"I have no idea, Laney." Dee says with a sympathetic tilt to her closed lip smile.
"I have worked so freaking hard, and in that last race my times were amazing. I might never race that well again."
"Don't say that, you're still going to continue training with Miguel right?"
Miguel.
Sleeping in his arms has become my sustenance. I feel like home with him in a way I haven't felt in years, maybe ever. And the way he finger combed my hair and braided it back last Saturday night after the race changed my neural pathways.
And all the whispered, giggled, and shared I love you’s of the last week are the cherry on top.
"Yeah, and honestly, I think he believes in me more than I believe in myself."
"Well, that sounds like a you problem." Dee jokes with a smile. When I don't reciprocate she continues. "Is this about your mom?"
"It has to be. I’m hearing her old arguments in my head."
"But you’re doing this for you. And for your dad."
"I know, but does she resent me for doing it? She’s the only family I have left." The words sting on their way out.
"Ouch."
"Sorry, blood family."
"I accept your apology." Dee gives a curt nod. "When was the last time you talked to her?"
"I dunno, a few weeks ago."
"And has she said anything about the racing? Wished you good luck?"
I give Dee a look that says she should know better than to even ask.
But, since I don’t bring it up to my mom when we do speak, I can’t technically blame her for not wishing me well.
"So, no."
"Not exactly." I admit. "I haven’t really told her I’m racing. I’m trying to save myself from the passive aggressive, ‘well if that’s your passion’, type of comments."
"I’m sorry."
"It is what it is." I shrug.
"But you need to tell her. Because you’re out here trying to prove to her you can make money from this and make it your profession?"
"Yeah, because passions have to justify the cost."
"What’s the cost of yourpassionswith Man-bun Miguel?" Dee bats her eyelashes.
I blush, because those passions have been, well, passionate indeed. "I dunno, maybe the cost of having a man like Miguel is that I have a man like Miguel."
"What do you mean?"
"He’s intense, and focused, and wonderful. I just don’t know what he sees in me." Suddenly the scratches in this table top are fascinating.
"A baddie with a body for one. Two, an incredibly talented, focused, and wonderful person who is chasing her dream, for herself and her father, despite the baggage her mother piled around her shoulders."
"Is that what I’m doing?"
