The Player Penalty (SteelTrack Racing #3)

37-Lily

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

I chuckle at Ms. Terry’s question. “Internship hours are supposed to be fun times with our students, not grading math assignments. It’s safe to say any future career plans do not involve me teaching algebra.” Or any other math. Teaching the younger students is a blast while grading math homework is a chore. “At least the scoring is to help students learn. I’d hate for my red ink to dictate their grades.”

Ms. Terry watches me work from where she sits. Although my rotation in her classroom ended after the previous school year, I often still spend time with her once the day ends.

“We’re starting a preschool program next year,” she says.

That casual comment causes me to drop my pen. “What? Is it official?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Official announcements will come out later this year, with early registration starting right after. We plan to offer two, three, and five-day programs to start. Of course, the number of teachers we hire depends on enrollment, so it’s too soon to tell, but I thought you might find the news interesting.”

“My internship ends at the end of this semester,” I start. After that, it’s more school or beginning a job search. Nepotism means a job at RMS will always be available, even if it isn’t what I want. My time in the math department also makes clear I prefer working with younger children, plus I’d be involved from the beginning. “What are the job qualifications?”

“You meet them,” Ms. Terry says. She knew the preschool program would spark my interest; her all-knowing smile only proves it. “I hope this means you’ll consider it. If not that, then the world always needs another art teacher.”

“A worthy backup plan,” I say. A preschool class is much better.

∞∞∞

I slip into the garage after finding Julian’s office empty. He’s at the other end, huddled over technical equipment, with my father and the engineers. None of them notice me, which is fine. They’re busy doing final prep work on his newest car before it’s loaded onto the hauler in the morning.

The green smoothie on his desk will be warm when he leaves the garage. It’s playoff season, and Julian, like everyone else, has been prepping non-stop. As soon as one race ends, he’s focusing on the next.

Last week, I asked Julian which drivers he’d prefer to race in the final four. The question made sense to me since some were weaker than others, right? Julian didn’t hesitate with his answer, telling me he’d prefer none of them. I didn’t understand at first, but I realized he meant there were no weaker drivers at this level.

I sneak through the office door and run head-first into Maddie. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” Because I was oblivious to everyone but Julian.

“Not a problem.” Maddie crooks her head to the side as her features turn serious. “Actually, you’re someone I hoped to speak to today.”

“What’s wrong?” I’m no longer an employee, so it isn’t a discipline problem. Julian’s contract was renewed for the next three years, and it wasn’t Dad’s birthday. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing is wrong. My apologies for alarming you. That should have been phrased better. It’s a job offer.”

I stiffen beside her. We’re in the middle of a hallway where anyone could come along and hear me refuse. “What kind of offer?”

“It’s not full-time, which might be a problem. Still, once we came up with the idea, you were the first person I thought of.”

We wander back towards Julian’s office, where I sit, legs crossed, in my usual chair. “Does this mean it isn’t an accounting job?” The sour taste of grading math papers still sits on my tongue. A job with numbers is the wrong job for me.

“Not even close.” Maddie takes the chair opposite mine. “Sarah and I had this idea a couple of years ago, but we’ve never pulled it off. Your summer school field trip was such a success; it seemed like you were the ideal person.”

It’s not summer school. “Tell me more.”

“A couple more events like that, at different races around the country.”

Planning skills are not my strong suit. “Do you want an event coordinator?”

“Oh, no, no, not like that.” Maddie raises her eyebrows, realizing how her earlier statement could be interpreted. “NASCAR has people who will do that. We need someone to work with drivers and other staff members to train and provide direction. Are you interested?”

It would mean staying on the road and having more travel opportunities with Julian. I’d have a purpose and a way to contribute to RMS’s success without the unwanted job.

There’s also the opportunity to teach preschool, which is the exact job I pictured for myself.

It’s strange. I was embarrassing myself during an interview less than a year ago, and now two offers drop into my lap with no effort on my part at all.

Now, all that’s left is picking one. Unfortunately, deciding under pressure isn’t one of my strong suits. “Can I take a few days to think about it?”

“Take all the time you need,” Maddie says with a pleased smile.

∞∞∞

“The chicken is done,” Julian calls out from the other room.

I open the oven, pulling out the glass dish before turning everything off. Tonight’s dinner is baked chicken, brown rice, broccoli, and a side salad. It’s not fancy, but it’s Julian’s favorite meal. Since I’m not picky, we eat it all the time. “Dad, what would you like to drink?”

He grunts. “I can get my cup. You sit down and relax.”

Sure enough, Dad pours a glass of his favorite lemonade and sits opposite me, with Julian joining last.

Sometimes it doesn’t seem real. It wasn’t that long ago when Dad made a point of repeating his beloved diatribe about Julian’s poor character and lack of professionalism. My ego makes me want to claim some credit, but it’s all Julian’s doing. He convinced Pete Webb to change his mind, and my father is nothing if not stubborn.

Now, we sit down for dinner together at least twice a week, like other families do every night. Sometimes, we eat at Dad’s place, but usually, he comes to us.

For the longest time, there were only the two of us. Dad was my family, and that was more than enough. Now, there is Julian, and our little family unit is growing and changing into something new—something better.

I once told Julian that no matter what happens, it was important not to leave my father behind. We were each other’s only family. That’s still true if not quite the same way it was before.

Julian lives in his big house, with the one-bedroom guest house sitting empty. My clothes and everything else are slowly moving from my childhood bedroom to here, with him. It’s a gradual change, which suits me fine.

Still, I regularly stare out the kitchen window at the empty guest house and wonder. Julian’s experience shows it’s the perfect size for a bachelor who values simplicity.

“You’ll do great this weekend,” Dad says.

“I worry we’ll jinx it,” Julian says with a chuckle. “We wrecked in the spring.”

“This is the playoffs, and you’re going for the round of eight. You’ll have two drivers on the track who’ll step in to help.” Dad grunts as he removes his hat. “That was stupidity on someone else’s part. You won the year before and always finish in the top ten. You don’t even need to win.”

Julian blinks. “Is that how I’ve done? One track runs into another; it’s difficult to keep track.”

“It’s my job to keep track.”

I listen rather than contribute. There isn’t much to contribute; hearing them talk is better than anything I might say.

They discuss caution and fuel strategies before moving on to other drivers’ weaknesses.

My interest peters out, which is fine because it allows my mind to wander. Two job offers in one day, and I need to decide. One gives me time in the classroom, while the other gives me time with Julian and everyone else at RMS .

Why are decisions always so difficult?

“I had a job offer today. Two of them,” I blurt out as soon as there’s a lull in the conversation.

“What? Tell us about it,” says Julian.

They both listen while I replay both incidents from earlier today. “Now, all that’s left is deciding which to pick.”

Julian puts a hand over my own. “Did you say the preschool offers classes two and three days a week?”

“Yes,” I say and feel foolish. Maddie mentioned her offer wasn’t full-time. I was so worried about how to politely refuse I missed that part. “I can do both of them.”

∞∞∞

Julian steps out of the bathroom dressed in buffalo check flannel pants, and nothing else. “Have you decided between the two- and three-day classes yet?”

“No, don’t. I can’t take that much pressure.” I throw myself against the pillows with mock stress. “Probably the two-day classes to start, if they have openings. It guarantees enough time for both jobs. If that goes well, I could apply for more.”

“Solid plan.” Julian joins me on the bed, using the palm of his hand as a pillow. “Your dad is coming over for dinner more and more.”

“Is that a problem?” They’ve been getting on so well, and I didn’t notice there was a problem. They’re going to argue, and my dad will start complaining about Julian all over again.

“Hey, hey.” Julian taps my chin, and our eyes meet. He drops a kiss on my lips and smiles. “There’s no problem, so let’s stop worrying. I brought it up as a way to ask how you think he would feel about moving in. I once believed my mother would move into the guest house, and now it sits empty. We can lease it out if you think he would refuse, but I’d rather keep it empty if you think he would want it.”

“It’s small,” I say, thinking out loud. I’m also squealing a little. “It’s also close to us, to me. That’s important.”

“Maybe it was meant for him all along,” Julian says.

“Maybe it was.”