Page 23 of Over the Limit

She grins. “I know, but damn it makes for some good fiction.”

“I’ll keep that in mind should I decide to pick up a romance.”

“You do that.” She laughs and gives the silliest shake to her head.

“So back to the original question. What is the third thing I’d be surprised about and don’t tell me you have a library of books because clearly”—I lift my chin to her paperback—“I already know you like to read.”

“I see how you are,” she teases. “Tricking me into giving you four things.”

“Guilty as charged.” I hold my hands up.

“Hmm, three. Um, I have one of my dad’s medals from his service framed on my dresser.”

“I’m sure he loves that you do.”

Everything about her lights up. “He’s like our team principal. The one controlling the chaos.”

“Now that analogy, I understand.” I tap my glass against hers.

“He’s the most selfless man I know. Both of my parents are really. Their theory is that if they can help someone, they will.”

“A life of service in all aspects.”

“Yes. And a house full of kids. Always.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I ask, curious as to why it doesn’t sound like it.

“Yes. Of course it is.” Her smile is genuine. “I’m the oldest though, so sometimes I feel completely disconnected from the new crew they bring in.”

“New crew?”

“There are five of us who are biological, and five have been adopted. And then . . . they foster more when someone needs to be fostered. The house never has the same amount of people in it when I go home.”

“I have one brother and it was chaotic growing up. You just said you had ten people or more in your house at a time.” I try to wrap my head around it and fail.

Her smile is nothing but pure love. “I know. It’s a tornado of love and fighting and acceptance and laughter all at the same time.” She takes a sip. “It’s all I’ve ever known though so for me it’s just normal.”

“That’s cool for so many reasons. Your parents doing that. You kids for accepting it. The better chance at life you’ve given others. I mean . . . so freaking cool.”

“I guess but I don’t see it that way . . . it’s just my family. I don’t know any other way. I try to get back as often as I can, but you know how hard it is with the traveling involved in this job.”

“And that bugs you, doesn’t it?”

She tilts her head and studies me. Classical music plays on around us, someone enters the lobby and the doors make a whooshing sound, and yet it’s her eyes that hold my attention. “It does. More than I think most days.”

“That’s admirable. Most people can’t wait to leave home and never go back.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I was more than happy to leave and make my place in the world, but I still have this sense of disconnect. That sense of home.”

I nod, understanding her sentiment. While my family is small in comparison—one brother, my mum, my dad—for the bulk of the year, I am in the northern hemisphere. Not an insurmountable distance but enough that I feel so fucking far from them most days. Sure, I’ve grown used to it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss them some days. “My family is close too. My dad gets to go to a good portion of the races, and I have to admit I always breathe a little easier—feel more at ease when he’s there.”

How did I not realize that until now?

“I get that. One hundred percent.”

She talks a bit more about her dad and his impressive years of service. Her family and the dozens of foster kids they’ve had in and out of their house. The synchronized commotion of a big family.

There is no denying the love in her voice. The admiration. The respect. This woman truly is special.