Chapter 35
[Dart]
Trinity really scared the fuck out of me. The fear in her voice. The need in it.
I couldn’t get to her fast enough, but I also knew I needed to get to her alone. Dropping Mirabelle off with Mary took a few extra minutes. When I got to the hospital, seeing Trin standing there, head down, shoulders slumped, my genuine concern turned to real fear.
I hopped out of my truck before I hardly had it in Park.
When her crazed eyes caught mine, I worried even more. Something had spooked her. Frightened her. And I’d seen that look before.
I didn’t want a rearview mirror to exist for us. We only needed to look toward the future, even if we didn’t know what the next turn would bring.
We had each other, and we had Mirabelle.
When she told me about this Marissa woman coming to see her, I could hardly compute the words. The truth is that Marissa still had time to change her mind and take Mirabelle from us.
Yes, us.
Trinity was the strongest woman I knew, and yet, I know she wouldn’t survive the loss.
To love someone so completely, so wholeheartedly, so unconditionally, like Mirabelle, and then to have her taken away, would be unimaginable.
I didn’t want to imagine it.
I wouldn’t survive the loss either.
To tear that little baby from a couple who love her like we do, it wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be right.
And for half a minute, I wanted to pack Trin and Mirabelle into my truck and run away. Run where no one could find us.
Instead, we stay put, and in each other’s arms, holding tighter every day for the rest of the week.
The countdown until adoption day is in the single digits, and the date can’t get here fast enough. I want Trinity’s name on the dotted line. In the designated box for Mother.
Technically, she didn’t have to fill in a father, but I was hoping she would. I was hoping she’d set my name right along with hers.
And I plan to discuss my thoughts when she gets home from work tonight.
We needed a little time to get through that bump of Marissa visiting Trin, but I didn’t want anything to get in the way of Mirabelle’s future.
Two parents were better than one. Heaven forbid something ever happened to Trin, I wanted her to be assured Mirabelle would be taken care of. I am here for her. And being listed on her birth certificate is a start.
I’ve just settled Mirabelle for a morning nap when I get a call. The caller ID identifies a name I easily recognize.
Max.
While I always thought my first instinct would be to jump at the idea of Max calling after all these months, I hesitate a second before I click to answer.
“Hey, Max,” I say, noticing a slight tremor in my voice.
“Dart Rivers,” he says, in a slight Floridian drawl. There’s a smile in his voice, which is a positive sign.
In some ways, Max reminded me of Russell Haven, Trin’s dad. He saw potential in me, a man just dipping his toe into his forties. He knew I was sad. Not unhappy, just aching for something. A purpose. A direction. A focus.
Max had seen me race in the canyon, a slightly uncommon spot to recruit drivers, but not completely unheard of.
He’d been a good mentor, a decent manager, and a bit of a manipulator.
“What’s up?” I ask, my voice still clipped.
“Gonna be in your area. Thought we could catch a race together.”
“I haven’t been driving,” I admit, more important things to chase than the taillights of another car. Like my wife’s heart.
“What have you been doing?”
I pause, not certain I want to tell Max that I’ve been making home improvements, babysitting a child, and falling back in love with my life.
I’d never stopped loving my wife.
“What can I do for you, Max?” I ask instead, still hurt about how things went down between us back in May.
He hums. “Was wondering if you could still meet me at the race. Let’s talk. In person.”
“You makin’ me an offer to come back.” I felt a little kicked to the curb after that last accident. Granted, I’d been bruised and battered. That close call was closer than I thought. I was rattled by it like I’d never been rattled before.
Max and the team doctor suggested rest and maybe a therapist.
I came home to Rogue River instead, knowing deep down what I really needed.
My wife back.
Max chuckles. “Let’s talk.”
My curiosity is piqued. I want to hear what he has to say, so I agree to meet him. But I have no intention of going alone, and I worry about how Trinity might feel attending a race with me.
On one hand, I want to show her what I love.
On the other, I respect her fears. That dream she had before she went back to work still haunts her. She doesn’t really like to watch the races on TV, but she does. She sits beside me and supports me, often sharing popcorn, snuggling against each other.
Still, I’m nervous when Trin gets home from a long shift. I pour her a glass of wine as she cuddles Mirabelle, smothering her cheeks with kisses.
After handing her the glass, I take Mirabelle from her and set her in a baby swing I pulled into the kitchen while I made dinner.
“I got a call from Max today.” I blurt out the news like I can’t hold it back any longer.
Trinity stills, wine glass mid-lift to her mouth. She lowers it back down.
“Max?” Her voice tight.
“There’s a race tomorrow, and he asked me to attend. He says he wants to talk to me.” I lean on the island between us.
Trinity sets her glass down and stares at the red liquid. “Okay.”
She doesn’t sound okay, and I step closer to her.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I rub her arms, feeling her bristle beneath my touch.
If she tells me not to go, I won’t. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize where we are, but I’m also curious what Max has to say to me.
She shakes her head like she doesn’t want to say her thoughts, or maybe she thinks nothing of this situation.
Maybe my own nerves are in the way.
“I’d like you to go with me.”
“Really?” she says quietly, keeping her eyes on me.
“Really.” I smile wider, relief washing over me. “We can make a date of it.”
We’ve been on a few dates in the past months, but not many. Family is always open to babysitting, especially Mary, but Trin and I like to spend time with Mirabelle. We also realize it’s important for us to have alone time together. Just adults.
“It will be fun,” I add, still sensing her apprehension.
“Okay,” she says, her voice low. “I’ll call my mom.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket. She isn’t even out of her scrubs yet.
Watching her, I’m a little caught up in my own thoughts. I’m excited to see the track again. Even a little excited to see Max. But most of all, I’m excited to spend time with Trinity, sharing the track with her.
The closer we got to the canyon, the more anxious I become. I’ve had my hand on Trinity’s thigh the entire ride here.
She’s wearing another floral dress, which is flirty and country, like the dress she wore out with her friends. She’s also wearing those cowboy boots that drive me wild. She has my Velocity hat on her head, giving a valiant effort to support this night. Support me.
She might be just as nervous as I am.
Once we park, my anxiety shifts to excitement. There’s a buzz in the air, mingling with the riotous roar of race cars in the distance.
The grandstand here isn’t nearly as grand as the one in Daytona. Still, the metal structure rises in front of us like a wall. A fortress holding back the dragon within.
The scent of burgers on a grill mingles with gasoline and burning rubber.
This is a dirt track compared to the asphalt of more polished racing.
Once we claim the tickets Max left for us at Will Call, we step through the tunnel between the stands, and I inhale, taking in the beauty in front of me.
The track is a breathtaking sprawl of combed dirt and color. Pit road gleams with polished cars wrapped in bright sponsor graphics. Crew members move with focused urgency, tightening lug nuts, checking tire pressure, wiping windshields. The smell of racing fuel is sharp, almost sweet.
Surprisingly, we find Max almost instantly along the barricade fencing that separates the crowd from the beast of the track. He shouts a greeting and shakes my hand. I lean in to introduce him to Trinity.
“Max,” I yell. “This is my wife, Trinity.”
I pull her into my side, as excited to show her off as I am to be here again.
Max gives me a knowing smile. He bore witness to me setting those divorce papers up in flames after losing my wedding band somewhere on the track in Daytona.
“Nice to meet you,” he hollers back at her, shaking her offered hand. She smiles hesitantly.
“I see why you stole his heart,” Max adds, winking at me with his appraisal of my wife. I’d be upset if I didn’t know Max was a dedicated family man himself.
“I have something for you,” he addresses me over the roar and rumble of engines. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a set of keys, and I instinctively open my hand to take them.
Shit. My keys. I curl my fingers around them, feeling the familiar bite of metal teeth into my palm.
“Watch number eleven.” He slaps my shoulder. “And then we’ll talk.”
I nod, knowing he doesn’t mean the car in the eleventh position, but the car marked with a giant 11 on the hood.
When the drivers fire their engines, conversation becomes impossible. The noise isn’t just loud—it’s physical. Pressing against your chest, rattling your teeth, making your heartbeat sync with the growl of eight hundred horsepower idling just yards away.
Trinity and I make our way to our seats.
I give Trin another glance. My wife is hot in her flirty dress, with her knees exposed, and I’m like a kid on my first date. I have the girl of my dreams beside me.
But it isn’t just her looks. Trinity exudes patience, and she’s giving it to me tonight. She might be just as curious as I am about what Max wants from me and what number eleven has to do with anything.
When she glances back at me, I cup her chin and draw her mouth to mine, probably smudging the bright pink lipstick she’s wearing. Don’t care. Let everyone see me kissing my wife.