1
Drew
A cloudof dust hung in our wake and small rocks dinged the undercarriage as the Fastback went from zero to sixty in impressively quick time. The back end fishtailed a bit, and the knuckles of the hands wrapped around the steering wheel turned white, ready to strong-arm her back in line.
From the driver’s seat, Trav darted a glance in my direction, and I grinned. “Faster!”
With awhoop, he dropped a hand onto the gearshift and punched it forward, the rumble of the engine deepening in response. We flew over the dirt road, wind whipping through the open windows tugging at our hair and clothes as the scent of dirt and gasoline filled the air.
God, I love this.
And even though we were flying down the road, going definitely faster than I should allow, time seemed to slow. As everything around us blurred out of focus, I lived in a moment of perfect clarity. And in the center was my son. Jaw set in determination, ring-covered fingers gripping the wheel asblack strands of hair blew everywhere. Even with black aviators shading his eyes, I knew without a doubt those onyx orbs were narrowed as he scrutinized the road ahead.
I was no longer the only adrenaline junkie in this family. It was a title I now shared with my son.
God, I love this kid.
Feeling my attention, he turned his face, and our eyes connected. The corner of his mouth tilted up before he turned back to refocus.
Up ahead, the road curved, and I patted on the dashboard, pointing. “Remember what I told you,” I yelled over the engine and blowing wind.
He nodded once.
My pulse hammered with anticipation as I grabbed the door handle to hang on. Travis downshifted, and even though the Mustang slowed, my heart rate didn’t. Just when I thought he overshot, Travis flicked the wheel, pulled the e-brake, and then pumped the clutch to destabilize the back wheels. The car started to slide.
“Increase the throttle,” I hollered. Then, “Back off just a little.”
The car drifted around the turn, arching almost perfectly. I felt Trav lighten up on the gas pedal—a natural instinct but not the right move.
“Keep that foot down.” I reminded him, and he pushed down, the car finishing out the drift perfectly.
Pride filled my chest when he flicked the wheel in the opposite direction, let off the gas at the exact right moment, and shot forward.
Hollering, I dropped my arm out of the window to slap on the door. “Fucking right!” I roared.
Trav’s face transformed into a wide grin, and I knew another slowed-down moment of clarity. The joy on his face and senseof accomplishment filling the cab were something I wanted to remember forever.
I grabbed my phone and snapped a pic for Trent, wanting to share it with him.
In true dramatic fashion, Trav hit the brakes and spun in a three-sixty before coming to a complete stop in the center of a dust cloud. I coughed and waved away some of the polluted air, pushing my hair off my forehead.
“Well?” Trav asked, looking at me for approval.
“You sure like waiting to the very last second,” I joked.
He smirked as though he did it on purpose, which he probably did.
Laughing under my breath, I palmed his shoulder. “That was your best drift yet,” I said. “You’re a damn good driver, son.”
“Good enough for my own car?”
I groaned. This kid had been working on Trent and me for his own car since he was fourteen.
Did you hear me sayfourteen?
Probably why I was starting to see some silver in my scruff. Wasn’t at all because I was now in my forties. It was these kids for sure.
Obviously, we told him no.
