Everly
EVERLY
“Is it time to go yet?”
Rhett bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, badgering me by asking the same question he’d asked approximately every three minutes in the last hour. I’d deliberately waited until this morning to tell him about the racing school. His need for instant gratification and my failure to meet it might have given rise to a tantrum, and as I’d struggled to get a wink of sleep last night, and my energy levels were running on empty, I wanted to avoid any kind of outburst.
My thoughts shifted to Nico, and remorse and embarrassment sent a rush of blood to my face. What had come over me the other day? I’d behaved like a raving lunatic, rambling on about cheap TVs and hand-me-down laptops, and something about secure backyards. But when he’d insinuated, albeit unintentionally, that I’d been less than truthful on my application, a powerful red mist had engulfed me, and he’d caught the brunt of my rage. It hadn’t even been about him. Not really. I was just tired and overwrought and worried about my son. I rarely lost my temper, and given the amount of guilt that settled like a boulder in my abdomen, I wish I’d bitten my tongue on this occasion, too.
How would I even face Nico today and somehow emerge with my pride intact?
Good luck with that, .
He hadn’t been far from my mind these last few days. I still cringed every time I recalled the flash of pain on his face at Rhett’s innocent, yet direct, question about his legs, followed by his hasty and humiliated retreat. Rhett hadn’t meant to cause Nico any embarrassment. He wasn’t old enough yet to understand the importance of tact when faced with someone managing a disability, but that hadn’t stopped remorse from eating away at my insides.
I’d read a couple of interviews from when Nico still raced, and watched one or two videos on YouTube from a few years back. The way he’d spoken, with such enthusiasm and energy, and love for the sport, had caused a bunch of butterflies to swarm in my stomach. Back then his jade-green eyes had shone, and he’d laughed a lot while talking to the journalist, showing off a dimple in his left cheek that had been altogether absent during both our encounters.
Losing something—or someone—you love had a hell of an impact on a person. I should know. Paul’s disappearance had done a number on both me and Rhett.
“Mommy!”
I blinked. “Sorry, honey, what did you say?”
He folded his arms and huffed, and my heart expanded with love for my little man, his expression both incensed and perturbed at my lack of attention.
“I said, ‘Is it time to go yet?’”
I checked my watch. “Not quite. Another thirty minutes.”
“Oh.” He flopped onto the couch, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Why is it taking so long?”
I chuckled under my breath and sat beside him to give him a cuddle. His bubbling enthusiasm for the upcoming trip to the track reminded me of the little boy he’d once been, and not for the first time since they accepted him into the program, a sliver of hope filled my chest. I’d put all my eggs in the PFK Racing basket, and I prayed their program would return my happy-go-lucky little soldier to me.
Providing I hadn’t messed it all up with my vitriolic—and hugely out of character—outburst at one of the owners.
“Because you’re excited. Time always seems to go slower when we can’t wait for something.”
He gazed up at me, his blue eyes replicas of my own, although his nose was all Paul: well set and almost straight with a slight upturn at the end.
“I’m a little bit scared, too, Mommy.”
My heart clenched tight, and I squeezed him harder. “Well, of course you are,” I said, forcing as much reassurance into my tone as I could muster, even as I struggled to manage my own unease at bumping into Nico again. “It’s somewhere new, and you’ve never been before, but once we get there and you meet everyone, all the fluttering in your tummy will disappear.”
“Promise?”
I kissed the top of his head. “I promise.”
The drive out to the track took us forty minutes due to a wreck on the highway, but I’d left plenty of time for such eventualities. Getting around Los Angeles was a struggle at the best of times, let alone when an accident added further delays. As I pulled into the parking lot, I glanced into the rearview mirror to check out Rhett’s reaction.
His eyes were wide in wonderment as his gaze fell on the racetrack just beyond the wire fencing. A few cars were already out on the track, and as I stepped down from my truck, the noise of the engines reached me. Suppressing a shard of worry that climbed into my throat, I opened the back door to unclasp Rhett’s child restraint.
“Ready, soldier?”
He nodded excitedly and held out his arms for me to lift him out. Once his feet were on the ground, he jumped up and down on the spot.
“Come on, Mommy,” he urged, clutching at my arm as I closed the door and then locked up.
I took his hand and walked over the tarmac pavement to the main building, trepidation building in my stomach, this time at the thought of seeing Nico again. I’d decided the best approach was to ignore the whole unfortunate incident from the other day and hope he did the same. And if he broached the subject… hmm, I wasn’t sure what I’d do. Apologize and pray he accepted it without further discussion.
There was one other family waiting in the reception area with a little boy around Rhett’s age, and they both smiled warmly at me as I ushered Rhett to a small couch over by the window. Adele’s desk was empty, but as two other families arrived, so did she, approaching from the direction of Nico’s office. She welcomed all the kids with a lollipop each and then led us all down a narrow hallway and into a large space that resembled a conference room. It was much brighter than that, though, the walls adorned with colorful paintings and a fair number of pictures of race cars.
Adele told us someone would be with us shortly, then left. I couldn’t help noticing I was the only single parent. I’d hoped for an ally, someone I could share my fears with. That wasn’t to say I couldn’t strike up a conversation with the other women here, but it felt a bit awkward with their partners tagging along.
The door opened, and my heart stuttered—and then fell to my feet. Greeting us wasn’t Nico Palmer at all, but another man I’d guess to be in his mid to late fifties. He introduced himself as Patrick, one of the trainers here.
I crammed down disappointment that Nico hadn’t graced us with his presence on Rhett’s first day. Why would he? He owed us nothing, especially after my less-than-stellar conduct at my house. At least his absence gave me a little more time to craft the right response just in case he did bring up what happened the other day.
I spent the next thirty minutes listening to Patrick’s spiel. By the time he’d finished, he had all the kids eating out of his hand, and I’d changed my opinion. The dour, brooding Nico Palmer would probably scare the young kids half to death. Maybe they had him work with the older ones, those whose teenage hormones had well and truly kicked in and needed a very firm hand. Patrick appeared to be the kind of man who’d never raised his voice in his entire life, and his quiet, soothing manner put the young kids at ease.
With four boisterous boys fizzing with excitement, and seven parents crapping themselves at the idea of their precious children getting behind the wheel of a car, Patrick took us on a tour of the facility. By the time we headed back to the reception area, my feet were killing me. Wearing heels had been a stupid mistake, especially when Nico hadn’t even put in an appearance. So much for dressing to impress.
“Right, folks,” Patrick said when we reached the main building. “That’s it for today, but you’ve all got your schedules, and we can’t wait to have you back here and get started on your tailored program.”
Rhett blinked, and his bottom lip wobbled. He glanced at the exterior of the building, then across to the racetrack, and finally back at me. “That’s it?” he asked. “We have to go now?”
I crouched to his level and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. “That’s it for today, honey, but we’re coming back soon.”
“How soon?”
“In three days’ time.”
“No!” Rhett stomped his foot and before I could stop him, he threw himself to the ground. “No! I’m not leaving.”
I briefly closed my eyes. Shit. I should have anticipated an outburst. He often lost his temper when he didn’t get his own way. I shot a glance at the other parents, who stood there judging me and my parenting skills as Rhett’s fists pummeled the ground. I wanted to yell at them all to fuck off, that they didn’t know my story, and if their kids were so damn perfect, then they wouldn’t have gotten a place in the program.
I did none of that.
Instead, I sat on the hard concrete and rubbed Rhett’s back while he kicked his legs and screamed. The parents shuffled off, whispering among themselves. I sighed, dredging as much patience as I could muster. It’d take at least fifteen minutes of quiet and soothing talk to calm him down enough to get him in the car.
“, Rhett.”
My head snapped up as I heard our names being called to find Nico coming toward us. He dropped to a crouch and ruffled Rhett’s hair.
“Chill out, bud.” Hooking his hands underneath Rhett’s arms, he sat him upright. “We don’t stand for that kind of naughty behavior around here. We’re all about discipline. No discipline, no racing.”
Rhett’s wailing stopped, and his eyes went round as saucers. Normally, I’d call someone out for chastising my child. That was my job, not Nico’s, but I was just so damned grateful he’d stopped Rhett’s tantrum dead in its tracks that I shot him a warm smile instead.
“He didn’t want to leave,” I said by way of explanation. “He enjoyed himself a little too much.”
“Then we’d better see what we can do about that.” He stood and cocked his head, gesturing for us to follow him. “Come with me.”