“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Laurie demanded. “I tried you twenty times last night and I called and texted another twenty times this morning. Dad didn’t answer either.”
Mack motioned for Laurie to lower her voice as she glanced behind her at the RV’s interior. “My phone died,” she lied. She wasn’t about totell Laurie about running away, driving Leo’s GTO, and then ending up at his motor coach.
“You can’t walk away from your phone, Mack!”
Mack stepped barefoot into the dewy grass and pulled Laurie away from the door. She’d close it but was afraid to lock herself out in these ridiculous pajamas. “Shh! It’s the ass crack of dawn and—”
“Didn’t you check your messages at all? It’s eight thirty! Get dressed!”
“Do you want my crap out of your apartment so bad that you’ll wake everyone in this parking lot?”
Laurie let out a squeal of frustration. She pulled out her own cell, tapped the screen, and found the text thread she shared with Mack. “I’ve been trying to tell you that your car was repaired overnight. You’ve got to get to the garage and get ready to qualify.Now.”
Mack flinched. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s no money—”
“I got the money! You’ve got one shot this afternoon to make the field.Get! Dressed!”
Mack stood perfectly still as the wet grass soaked into the satin fabric of her borrowed pajama pants. It couldn’t be true. She’d seen the shattered pieces of the car, knew it was impossible to fix overnight, recalled every one of Janet’s words. Mack stared at her feet, watching the damp climb her legs, small capillaries of water ruining clothes that weren’t hers.
“Aunt Laurie!” Shaw barreled through the door Mack had left cracked open, and Laurie took a step back to absorb the impact of Shaw’s tiny body hurtling off the steps.
“That true?” Wes appeared at the top of the RV steps and Billie peered out over his shoulder. “You paid Janet so Mack could qualify?”
Laurie spoke over her niece’s head. “I didn’t pay her anything. I’ll explain later.” She turned to Mack. “But you have to get to Gasoline Alleynow.”
Mack shook her head. “No, it’s over.”
Wes waved the hand not leaning on his cane manically. “Someone tell me what in the hell is going on!”
“Swear jar, Pawpaw!”
Laurie yelled loud enough to make Shaw cover her ears. “Why is no one moving?”
Billie gently beckoned Mack toward the doorway. “C’mon, honey, let’s find you some clean clothes and go see what all the fuss is about. Sometimes, it’s easier to do the thing and ask questions later. You want a quick banana and some peanut butter toast?”
Maybe Mack did have a concussion and this was some kind of bruised-brain dream. The wreck was real, her aching body and throbbing hand confirmed that truth. But her cool, reserved sister showing up in the morning, shouting like a maniac? Waking up in an RV wearing her dad’s girlfriend’s satin pajamas? A second chance to qualify? It was easier to believe she had a brain injury than hope that she truly had one more chance at the Indy 500.
Numbly, Mack gathered her dirty gear from yesterday and accepted a slice of toast from Billie. She moved on autopilot, not willing to think about what she was actually doing, until she noticed Shaw watching her from the corner of the couch. She rubbed the tag of her blankie in the nervous way she had as a toddler.
“You okay, little love?” When Shaw didn’t answer, Mack sat down next to her. “You wanna talk about it?”
Glossy tears spilled down Shaw’s cheeks. “I don’t want to go!”
Had Kelley said something to Shaw about moving overseas? “Go where?” she asked carefully.
“I don’t want to go to the track. I don’t want you to wreck and get hurt!”
Mack exhaled and pulled Shaw into her side, careful not to put pressure on her hand. “Oh love, I know the wreck looked scary but the car is made to break apart like that. I didn’t even get hurt.”
“Yes you did!” Shaw pointed accusingly at the hand Mack held carefully away from her body. “I heard you say a swear word when youbumped it. And Pawpaw got broken too, and Daddy left and I don’t want you to go!”
Shaw was full-on sobbing now, liquid streaming from her eyes and nose. Mack shifted and pulled Shaw into her lap even though she was almost too big for it. She’d read that parents often don’t remember the last time they held their child a certain way—the last time a baby rested on a hip, the last time a toddler rode piggyback, the last time a child sat on a mother’s lap—but Mack felt it in her bones that this was the last time Shaw would lean into her just like this. At ten, Shaw wasn’t a baby anymore, and Mack couldn’t keep hiding all the hard parts of the world from her.
“You’re right. There is a risk in racing. But Pawpaw got hurt a long time ago when things weren’t as safe as they are now, and Daddy’s wreck was very, very rare. There is so much technology today to keep drivers safe. But even then, you’re right. There is risk.” She paused, knowing she had to be honest. “So much of life is a risk, Shaw. Climbing the monkey bars or riding bikes with your friends or driving race cars or swimming in the ocean, all those things could hurt you. The things we love most usually have danger, but we do them anyway because the joy of doing them is worth the risk.”
Shaw considered that for a moment. “I want to swim in the ocean.”
“I know, love. And we’re going to do that, I promise.” She’d make it work if it took her last penny. “And it might seem a bit scary when you’re standing in front of all that open space, but once you feel that cold, salty water, it will be worth it.”
