“Who did you put first? Everyone else?” said Isaac. “I still know next to nothing about your family, other than you were raised by your grandmother who hoped someday you would be a writer.”
Anna didn’t say anything at first. “My parents didn’t want me.”
“That can’t be true.” The words popped out of his mouth.
He must be thinking of his own parents. Carmela was warm and loving, and from the sound of it, his father had been supportive and kind. They’d been a family that put their sons’ needs and futures ahead of their own.
“I don’t want to make tonight about me,” she said. “Adam used to say I did that.” He’d never understood that sharing her connection was her way of relating to situations.
“I’m not Adam and I can’t sleep, anyway. Talk to me. Tell me about your childhood. I want to listen.” Isaac’s arms tightened.
Her heart ached with old wounds, but she trusted Isaac. “I was a difficult child who was intense and cried a lot. I hadn’t been diagnosed yet, and my parents struggled to figure out what to do with me, so I made myself unimportant. I didn’t want to be a bother. I tried not to ask for anything, even hugs or attention. When I was diagnosed with autism, it became clear that I needed more than many neurotypical kids. My parents didn’t have any money, and they fought about me all the time.”
“How old were you?” Isaac’s voice seemed far away as she slipped deeper into the memories.
“Eight. I don’t think they realized I could hear their arguments, or how much I understood. But I did.” She took a deep breath. “The walls were paper thin in the apartment. My dad said I wasn’t worth the extra money they would need to spend on therapy and doctors. He wished I was normal.” Her voice had become a whisper. She’d told no one her father’s words, not even her grandmother.
Isaac’s arm tightened again. “That’s awful. At least your mother must have thought you were worth it.”
She wished that were true. “Not for long. My dad left soon after that and my mom couldn’t cope on her own. When I wasnine, she got fired for leaving her job when the school called, insisting that I be picked up early. I’d had a problem with another student and gotten upset. A meltdown.”
She paused and wiped the tears that leaked from her eyes, and her chest tightened. She’d never shared this part with anyone, either.
“My mom packed up my clothes and grabbed a couple of my favorite books. She drove us to her mother’s house and rang the doorbell. Right on the porch, she handed my suitcase to my grandmother.” Her voice caught as she continued. “My mom said, ‘You wanted a granddaughter. She’s not worth this much work. She’s all yours.’ Then she walked away.”
Isaac squeezed her gently. “Have you heard from her since?”
“She didn’t call or write, though she sent my grandmother emails from time to time, and she never visited. When I was thirteen, I snuck onto my grandmother’s computer and searched through her old messages. Not once did my mother even ask about me. When my grandmother died, my mother came to the funeral but treated me like a stranger, like she was lost in her own grief. She left immediately afterward, and we haven’t spoken in all these years. I don’t even know where she lives.” Anna’s tears released in earnest, great wracking sobs that shook her body. For all the tears, speaking of the past was a cathartic release.
“I want you,” said Isaac, tightening his grip. “Mi Corazon, you’re wonderful. I think you are worth it a thousand times over. It’s perfect that we found each other.”
His simple statement reminded her that in her new life—she was valued and loved. It was time to let go of the pain in her past. She had a new family.
...
Anna stood on the starting grid. Isaac was in P2, and Vince was on pole. Even their final race would begin side-by-side. She glanced at her soon-to-be brother-in-law, his face a mask of total concentration. Catarina grinned back at Anna, her face aglow with excitement. This race would decide who was this year’s champion. Twenty-two races, and it was still undecided, a reporter’s dream.
Anna’s heart fluttered, and she wiped her palms against the bottom edge of her shirt, gripping the umbrella to keep it steady on her last umbrella girl gig. They were into the final minutes, between the sighting lap and the final pre-race warm-up lap. The countdown clock ticked down the minutes until the season’s finale. Isaac’s eyes were open, but his focus was elsewhere. She glanced from him to Vince and back. Isaac’s face mirrored his brother’s. They’d never looked more alike, wearing twin masks of concentration as they blocked out the rest of the world.
With one minute left, the non-riders cleared the grid, leaving only the racers.
A pushy reporter called to Angel as they returned to pit lane. “Are there team orders from Honda? Do the bosses have a preference on who should win #VasquezShowdown? Do they prefer Vince and the factory team to win?”
Angel kept walking.
The reporter persisted. “Does Isaac have free rein to go for the win?”
It had never occurred to Anna that Honda might have a preference between Isaac and Vince, and her heart thumped hard against her ribs.
Angel turned and spoke into the mic. “If there were orders, they relayed nothing to me. The guys will sort it out on the track.” He continued into the box with his clipboard and stared at the screen, waiting for the start.
Anna turned for a last look before entering the box where they’d watch from the screen with the race commentary. With a rev of engines, the riders departed for their final warm-up lap. This was it.
CHAPTER 26
Isaac
Isaac’s fingers twitched as he sat on his Honda, staring down the track as the riders took to the grid for what was his last time. He’d woken up this morning with a sense that he had a date with destiny—a tingling sensation that settled in his bones—a certainty. This was going to be his day.
