“Stupid? For making the Indy 500? C’mon, Mack.” He leveled her with a knowing look. “Don’t pretend like thirty-second isn’t incredible when the alternative is staying home next Sunday.”
Leo wasn’t concerned with playing it cool or mysterious, and it was possibly her favorite thing about him. “I’m still shaking. I’m worried it’s not real and I’m dreaming.”
“It’s real. You did it.”
Mack was dangerously close to kissing Leo right there in front of the crew, but her family came running into the garage at that moment, Laurie squealing like a child and pulling Mack into her arms.
After Mack’s first win—a quarter midget race when she was eleven—Laurie had cheered louder than any Colts fan on a Sunday night, and that was nothing compared to the tears and wild joy her sister gave her now. Mack had to hold back her own emotions as she squeezed Laurie. They weren’t perfect, they weren’t how they used to be, but they were together and they were trying, and maybe that’s what love and family really meant.
“Mama, why does your car look all funny? Is it still broken?” Shaw’s face looked uncharacteristically serious.
“Oh no, honey. The replacement parts came from other cars so they don’t all match. But the car’s as good as new.”
Shaw barreled into her, and Mack kept an arm around her daughter as she hugged Wes, who was openly weeping. Her dad held her face in his hands as he rambled on and on, telling her all the ways he always knew she’d succeed, sobs muffling his words. Billie produced a black-and-white bandanna to wipe at his face, and Mack saw tears in her eyes as well.
Mack choked down the emotion in her chest. “We’re okay?”
Wes touched her cheek. “We will always be okay, Mackenzie Mae. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before. I see now that I should have. I thought ...” He frowned. “Maybe you needed a push.”
The hurt wasn’t gone, but in the light of day, Mack admitted there was a kernel of truth to Wes’s logic.
“And the money ... I didn’t take anything from the track. I promise. Billie bought the RV and we’re gonna use money from the sale to live on. But half of it is yours, Mack. I ain’t forgot that.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. No crying. Not here, not now. She opened her watery eyes to look at Wes, and they didn’t need to say anything more. She knew and he knew that they’d always do right byeach other. Even if they didn’t do it perfectly, they’d never stop taking care of each other.
Over Shaw’s head, Mack saw Leo trying to slip out of the garage, but she called him over before he could disappear. She made a round of introductions and Leo shook hands with everyone, including Shaw, who wiggled out of Mack’s arms to tell Leo exactly which pieces of racing paraphernalia she wanted him to sign. Leo gave Shaw his full attention, carefully listening without making promises he couldn’t keep. Wes gently redirected Shaw when she began to ramble, and then introduced himself to Leo. Mack bit her cheeks to keep from laughing as Leo bumbled through his earnest excitement at meeting her father. It was a hero worship she’d witnessed dozens of times and Wes ate it up.
But it was Bump Day at Indianapolis, and the bubble was bound to burst.
A collective gasp came from the back of the garage where crew members gathered at a row of computers and televisions. Mack squinted but couldn’t read the text on the screen. Janet cursed.
“M. J. Martin beat your time. Roethlisberger got bumped from the race.”
The warmth she’d felt a minute ago instantly turned to a chill. “What does that mean?”
Jimmy appeared beside Janet, a deep crag between his brows. “It means Roethlisberger will scramble to get out there and bumpyou.”
No no no.Mack shook with the instant flash of panic that flooded her body. She’d done it, she’d made the field, and even though she knew this could happen she felt like someone had stolen a prized possession from her hands. How many times could she lose the Indy 500?
She closed her eyes and chewed her lip. “What do I do?”
Jimmy frowned. “Sit and wait.”
The impotency of the situation made her growl. At least yesterday she’d been the one to slam herself into a wall. She didn’t want her dreams made or crushed by sitting on her ass. She’d let her life amble by her for nearly a decade, and now she wanted to run toward it.
“That’s it? We sit here and let time determine my fate?” Mack noticed the crew pretending not to listen and she thought of the time and effort they put in last night and in the early hours of morning. “Our fate,” she corrected.
Janet stood with her hands braced on her head. “We always knew we could end up here.”
“Or ...” Jimmy said, pursing his lips.
“Or what?”
Janet was already shaking her head as Jimmy said, “Time’s a ticking.” He glanced at his watch. “But you might have enough time to go out and put down quicker laps than Roethlisberger. If you get out first, put down faster laps, you can keep your spot in the show.”
Janet put her hands on her hips. “No. It’s too risky.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t a risk,” Jimmy said, as casual as if they were deciding between two different restaurants. “Going back out is no riskier than sitting here. They’re both a gamble.”
