30. August
30
AUGUST
There was a scene in one of my earlier books where the tricolored eye guy—aka my hero/Wade substitute—found himself in a battle with a machine magically merged with an old forgotten god. Long story. It was a whole big thing for his character arc and the meaning of the human soul. A fantastical version of the artificial intelligence debate.
At one point, the machine started to fuse itself to him and, for a while there, neither the character nor the author was sure whether or not he would be able to escape or be the same once it was over.
He did, in case you were wondering.
In case I’d ever wondered what that might have felt like in real life?
You guessed it. I was getting a taste of it right now, because there was no way anyone had ever been as strapped into a vehicle as I currently was. Multiple seatbelts across my torso and over my lap. A head-and-neck restraint that attached to my seat and gave me the best posture of my life. Even the clothes on my body were plugged into a cooling system that was practically welded to the floor on the passenger side, ensuring I couldn’t change my mind at the last minute.
This was not a drill or the first day of go-karts, and there would be no escaping now.
Not that I was going to try, even if part of me was still begging to get out and go home. I wouldn’t listen, because I was here to finish the quest and slay my dragon. To move on and move forward. To drive stupidly fast in a tiny little car wearing undergarments that circulated chilled water over my torso to keep me from overheating.
Okay, so not Tron then. More like those outfits in Dune .
Adrenaline momentarily rushed through me, narrowing my field of vision to what was right in front of me. I guided a stripped and race-ready Jiminy to the edge and waited for an opening to rush into the flow of insanely decorated cars and leave home base behind.
“Kick their asses, August!”
I heard Morgan’s unexpected shout at the same time I pressed my foot down on the gas, shifting automatically as Jiminy slid between one car that looked like it was actually driving upside down and another that was covered in graffiti and going surprisingly fast for something that might fall apart at any moment.
I could do this, I told myself as my body vibrated within its confinement. Wade made sure the car was in perfect condition, the track was only two and a half miles long, and I’d driven it both during my practice sessions with Bernie and on yesterday’s test drive.
But there hadn’t been this many people around me, going quite this fast, and driving with so much competitive energy. This felt different. Scary. Thrilling.
I tried to remember to relax and breathe when I went into an odd turn Lucy called The Keyhole at forty-five miles per hour and felt like I was flying. My body squished over to the right so far that I was thankful for all those straps holding me in place.
I took the turn too wide. “Damn it!”
The car beside me slowed to give me room before I even had time to brace for impact, and I let out a whoop of excitement. The rumors were true!
Earlier, Kingston had said one of the women in charge had spent hours today spreading the word about us newbies, our car design and why we’d joined a veteran team, suggesting that everyone give us some leeway on the track. I needed to find that woman and bend a knee in fealty or something, because gratitude didn’t begin to cover what I was feeling right now. The fact that very few cars were crowding or coming close to me was a testament to her influence.
Then again, it could just be my lack of speed, since most of them had already passed me at this point. Even if that engine switch Wade made years ago meant I could keep up with them, I didn’t really want to.
I couldn’t make myself go faster than eighty on the straightaways. It felt too fast, too dangerous, with all those other cars around me. And the section of track called the Bus Stop? That I took at thirty, certain I was about to be the bottom slice of a fifty-car shit sandwich.
I was on a real racetrack, driving a real racecar, in the middle of a real car race, and what the hell was I thinking?!
“This is crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy,” I chanted under my breath, trying not to hyperventilate.
“Pit Master here, Little Sister. You’re doing great. You’re about to start your third lap in a minute. The first two are always the hardest.”
Third? That was all? Surely I’d been out here for two hours already. My arms were trembling from effort and I was raining sweat like the pilot in that old Airplane! movie. I should have worked out with heavier weights.
When a Toyota that looked like it was made of Legos nearly sideswiped me near the aptly named Gut Check section of the track, I shouted and jerked the steering wheel too close to the wall.
“Holy shit. Lego tried to kill me.”
I mashed the clutch, downshifted and floored it instinctively to get my speed back up the way Bernie had taught me. I glared at the Lego smiley-face pattern on the back of the car, now inches from my front bumper. “Fucker.”
“Pit Master to Little Sister. Hold steady. Those are the nice guys and they make great ribs, but as soon as they hit the track, the red mist descends and they turn into asshats. Let them pass and they’ll ignore you.”
The pink-Cadillac ladies were sounding better all the time. A big sturdy car. A slow steady pace. Like Gene and the others, they weren’t here to win. They were here to participate. Lego was apparently here to be a jerk.
There was a not-so-subtle metaphor for life in this experience, wasn’t there?
A bunch of old cars covered with dings and scratches, most of which should have been put out to pasture or a junkyard years ago, were given new life to come back swinging. There would always be one or two assholes, but most of the others were just doing their best not to crash into each other while pushing to make that one extra lap without spinning out or breaking down in the middle of the road.
They were all lemons. But they didn’t let that stop them from living their dreams.
“Sorry for all the swearing before,” I said, knowing Kingston was recording.
“The Pit Master has heard worse. Believe it or not you’re at five laps now. You’ll get the feel of the turns eventually. It takes time. You already know not to pump the brakes, and that’s half the battle. I can see you downshifting like a demon going into those curves and I am im pressed .”
Lucy, saint of generators and positive reinforcement.
If I did survive, it would be in part because of him. And Bernie’s yoga and driving lessons. And Chick’s unwavering support, in spite of his own fears. And Wade.
I’d have to thank them all by never, ever entering a car race again. Not even the funny amateur ones. I already had enough anxiety, and I was too old to be starting new hobbies that could spike my blood pressure.
Maybe I should take up knitting.
“Don’t you ever want to be a part of the story, pumpkin?”
Yes, I did. I’d been observing courageous and interesting people all my life, starting with my mother. When I was younger, I read about them. Then I wrote about them.
I always told myself that someday, it would be me. I’d climb a mountain, search for treasure, or discover an ancient temple in the wilds of a rainforest. I’d learn to fly a plane or go deep sea diving.
I’d fall in love.
Someday, when I had more money in my savings account. When I was in better shape. When I was finished with my book. Later. Tomorrow. Next time.
The queen of Procrasti-Nation, remember?
Only I wasn’t anymore. I was here and now. White-knuckling a steering wheel with my heart actually trying to escape through my throat. I was living in this second, in this moment. I was saying yes to all of it.
I’d been doing it for months, and it hadn’t been as hard as I’d imagined. In fact, since I took that first step outside my door, most of it had been wonderful.
After all this time, it felt like I was finally honoring the words I’d read out loud at Mom’s celebration of life.
I wish I’d said yes more often. To all the crazy adventures she wanted me to join her on. To living the way she did. Fearlessly, unapologetically and completely in the moment.
But because she lived, we are here. And because she lived, we are family. Some found family she gathered along the way, some blood relations who couldn’t be more different, all of us connected forever in ways big and small because of her.
She lived and we weren’t alone.
She lived and we were inspired to do something we always wanted to try but never thought we could.
She lived and we wrote poetry, and read poetry, and owned scarves covered in poetry—‘I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart.’
She lived and we made ridiculous hats and silly movies in our living room. We sang and laughed our way through long car rides across the country, cars we always named and had theme songs for, and trips that always became adventures.
She lived and we cleaned to Camelot , danced under the stars, searched for rainbows, meditated on sunsets and went places we never would have gone on our own.
I don’t know how to do any of this without her—but if she were here, she would tell me I’d be fine. That I had good people around me, that things would get better and she’d be right by my side in spirit when they did. That she loved me no matter what. A bushel and a peck. Like a rock. Forever and back. Unconditionally.
That’s the most important thing I think she’d want us to remember today. That until her very last breath, she never missed a chance to let us know she believed in us and loved us. And she never wasted a single second of her life.
I wish we could all say yes to living our lives like that. Like there might be no tomorrow. Because sometimes? There just isn’t .
“I’m an idiot.”
Having a sudden epiphany about your life and your future while trying not to run into a car crawling with plastic baby zombies was an interesting experience. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
“Say yes, Gus.”
“What are we doing?”
“Finally being honest about why I’ve kept my distance.”
“I’ve known what I wanted for a while.”
“You dazzle me every day.”
“I think being loved like that has to be worth whatever pain comes after. Even if it ends up knocking you on your ass.”
Holy bananas.
“A stupid, blind idiot.”
“Pit Master to 71. What’s that, Little Sister? Are you having a visibility problem the cameras aren’t picking up?” Lucy’s worried voice was clear in my helmet despite the loud roar of the engines around me. Despite my heartbeat.
“I was watching my life flash in front of my eyes.” And waking up to the fact that I was saying yes unequivocally to everything but what I wanted most of all. That, I was still holding at a distance, despite my recent attempts at proving I was “invested.”
After a moment of static, he responded, “Well, you’re doing great. Lap nine now. Try to keep those eyes on the track so our grumpy mechanic and your sister don’t join forces to murder us for letting you do this, okay?”
“Pit Ma—Lucy, where is Wade right now?”
“He’s back on the platform. We’ve all got eyes and ears focused on you. He’s probably listening to this conversation right now and waiting for a chance to chime in.”
He was right, because as soon as he stopped talking, I heard Wade’s voice in my helmet.
“August, baby, what’s wrong? Do you need to come in?”
The signs had been there for so long.
Like the fact that hearing his drawl instantly calmed my nerves and steadied my heart. That knowing he was worried about me made me feel stronger somehow. Because I knew I wasn’t alone.
I inhaled sharply, slowing down as I rounded the sharper bend I was coming to hate.
“One more, I think. I’ve decided the only way not to shame myself after making such a big deal about this is to hit ten laps. It sounds like a good round number to me.”
I’d heard the average driver could make twenty-five to thirty laps an hour, but I didn’t need to hit the average. I’d already proven I could participate in this race. I’d already taken the risk.
And this was more important.
“Then you’ll hit ten and be done with it,” he said steadily.
I took another breath and decided to take a chance. “I don’t want to wait until after.”
“You want to come in now?”
“No,” I grunted as my body pulled against the restraints around yet another turn. “I want to have our conversation now.”
“Gus, you need to focus on driving. And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re on the radio. Everyone can hear us.”
“I’m racing around with crazy Lego people and Mary Kay ladies, Wade. I’m not worried about being circumspect. Do you have that water bottle handy? Because I’ve got a few questions before I let you have your say.”
“Already holding it.”
“Pit Master to Little Sister, confirmed with binoculars. He is holding up a water bottle for some reason. I’m not sure what this is about, but I wish you’d both use the proper lingo. Also, please be advised that the pink Caddy is about to pass you.”
“I thought winning wasn’t important,” I laughed shakily.
“Not being last is our only rule.”
I picked up my speed, my heart racing faster than Jiminy. “Little Sister to Motor Daddy.”
“I’m here, but I’m not calling you that.”
“You’re in love with me.”
There was a pause and then, “Was that a question?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I hope not. Hang on.” I glared at the old ladies and revved past them once we were going straight again.
“There. The thing is, I’m pretty sure I love you too. Scratch that. Entirely sure. It started with revisiting a crush, but now it’s a permanent condition. If you love me back, then I don’t want to live with you and be with you until or unless either one of us decides to find a house or move away. I want to do this for real. With you. For keeps and without any escape hatches. I love you, Wade Hudson. So, yeah. Um. Over.”
I winced at the whoops and hollers that sounded like Bernie, Chick and my sister shouting into someone’s radio before Wade responded again.
“Affirmative. You’ve started lap ten, Gus. Finish this and get your sweet ass back to the paddock so I can tell you to your face.”
Affirmative.
Wade Hudson loved me.
The knowledge had me making my fastest lap time on my way back to the paddock.
When I pulled in, people were swarming the car and cheering, though I’d barely finished the first half hour of my two-hour turn and my lap time had probably put my team behind their usual numbers.
They didn’t care. They just really loved to celebrate around here.
I felt like celebrating too.
I’d taken the biggest risk of all, one that had nothing to do with the race, and if the expression on Wade’s face as he headed straight for me was any indication, it had paid off.
Or it would as soon as I could make my way out of the prison of belts and straps that kept me inside this literal metal cage of death and away from the moment where the man finally said the words.
Because he hadn’t actually said them yet.
He’d implied. Inferred. Insinuated. Suggested. But despite my usual spiraling and habitual insecurity, I knew I was right. I really, firmly believed I was probably right, which was why I’d declared myself on the radio in front of everyone we knew and any strangers who might be walking by.
Words were important, damn it.
I barely felt the hugs and back pats as Chick and Bernie tried to help me out of my helmet and the now-sweaty top half of my racing suit.
The soaked hair that had escaped my braid was starting to frizz as it clung to my hot cheeks. I understood the purpose of the cooling layer now. This was a hot, stressful and uncomfortably sticky business. My deodorant was nothing more than a distant memory and everything, including the backs of my knees, felt gross and wet.
Then Wade was standing in front of me and I forgot about it all. I looked up at the big, irritatingly handsome man and saw the answer blazing out from the eyes I adored.
He loved me .
“This is like the scene from that Sandra Bullock movie, where the family was all standing around staring and waiting for their idiot son who was taking too long to tell her he loved her and propose.”
Everyone, Wade and I included, turned our heads to stare at Lucy, whose face was almost as red as his mustache. “My wife is a romantic. Plus, we need to move this delightful side quest along so we can get Rick into the car to make up some lap time.”
Rick was already geared up, apart from his helmet, and looking decidedly impatient as he watched Dalton drive the car to the fueling area.
“So much for romance,” I muttered under my breath.
Wade heard me. He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. “That sounds like a challenge, so get ready for it. I’m in love with you, August Retta. I was half in love with you for years, but I told myself it was never the right time for us to be together. I don’t care about timing anymore, and I’m done with waiting. I want this, with you, without any escape hatches or expiration dates. So, I’m saying yes to your proposal.”
Bernie squeaked and Chick swiftly interjected, “To be clear, no one has proposed to anyone. Believe me, I’ve been paying attention. You can’t throw the word proposal around at a moment like this without being specific, Captain.”
Wade swore as I stared at him in wide-eyed, open-mouthed silence. “Sorry, Lucy threw me off. I know you’re not there yet. I meant yes to doing this relationship for real. You and me. Living our lives together, wherever they take us. Wherever you want them to take us, up to an including a proposal at some future date when the word doesn’t make you look like you’re about to pass out, okay? I’m with you, Gus. I love you.”
“Finally,” I heard Rick say as Wade dragged me up on my toes and kissed me until they curled and I forgot my name. And then he kissed me some more .
All too soon, the car rolled back in and we were jostled to the side as the team got Rick strapped into it and onto the track.
I barely noticed.
Wade was still kissing me when I realized we’d somehow made it through the tent and into the RV.
I looked around, blinking stupidly. “How did that happen?”
“Do you care?” he growled against my neck, already working my soaking shirt up my torso.
“We can’t do this here,” I said, whimpering a little when he kissed me in that one particular spot I loved.
“Why not?”
“Everyone is right outside the door. And you might be too nice to say it, but I stink and I desperately need a shower. Plus, what if they have a mechanic emergency?”
He lifted his head to smile at me with a look so loving that it robbed me of my breath.
“Forget everything I just said. I can’t think of a single reason to wait.”
Morgan held one of my hands and Chick gripped the other as Kingston lowered his camera, looking at me with dark, solemn eyes. “Thank you, August. That was exactly what I needed.”
I’d given him his interview, and it wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d expected it to be. Morgan cried and Chick had something in his eye once or twice, but I’d managed to tell him the story of how I got the idea for the race without sobbing into an uncontrollable heap in front of the rest of the paddock.
We were at the community cookout/slumber party portion of Lemons.
Competition forgotten, people were grilling under the stars, playing music and sharing food and stories with each other like they were at a family reunion instead of a racetrack. Except for the team on the other side of the paddock, with the Jell-O shots and stripper pole, it was as wholesome as advertised. Which was sorely needed after the near-miss-tragedy that happened earlier in the afternoon.
Not the RV sex. That had been spectacular.
It was Bernie.
After Rick took the rest of my turn along with his to try and make up our lap count, he’d grudgingly handed the wheel over to my impatient friend.
She was ready for it. That first hour, she’d methodically started beating everyone’s time. She’d raced easily around every curve and turn, like she’d been born behind the wheel. She made Jiminy fly. And then he was almost literally flying, thanks to the Lego assholes.
Those guys sucked. They’d come close to her multiple times, finally nudging her around a turn and sending the car into a small fishtail before the left front end hit the wall.
Bernie was achy from the impact but miraculously unharmed. So was Jiminy, after the mechanics from several other teams joined Wade and Dalton in hammering the body back into shape, changing the tire and working their magic on the suspension.
Whatever they’d done, we were able to continue with the race, this time with Gene back behind the wheel until the checkered flag signaled the end of the day.
Rick had been livid.
The punishment the shitty team received—which would still be in effect tomorrow, because it involved locks and keys and math and a few very pissed-off Lemons honchos—had not been enough for him. Gene and Lucy did their best to calm him down and hold him back from the driver who’d gone after Bernie, but I doubted he felt any better because he’d been missing in action since it happened .
Bernie, on the other hand, had thrown herself into the excessive celebration part of the evening. That’s where Wade was—trying to talk his dancing sister out of attempting the stripper pole so he could bring her back to our section.
This was…not what I’d expected the rest of my day to look like after confessing my love and being swept off my feet by my real-life romance hero. But that was reality for you. It wasn’t a ride into the sunset. It was a roller coaster.
Maybe I liked roller coasters now.
“August?”
I stood up when Kingston’s parents ambled my way.
“You did great out there.” The handsome older man, with his white goatee, took my hand and patted it. “Your mother would be proud.”
“Thank you, Mr. Haywood.”
He nodded absently. “The boat looks good, if I say so myself. A challenge, making something that size seaworthy. Balance, you know. But I managed.”
“I made him add a fairy to the prow and a mermaid design along the sides,” Mrs. Haywood said with a compassionate smile. “I knew Sam would like that. She always loved mermaids, didn’t she?”
I couldn’t wait to see it. “Yes, she did. I’ll come get it on Monday, if that’s okay.”
Mr. Haywood smiled. “Anytime you want. You’ve got an eye for art, August. I was thinking about incorporating some of your design ideas into a new memorial piece I’m working on for another customer. Got my hands on a big, beautiful bit of teak.”
“We’ll talk about it later, dear,” Mrs. Haywood said, nodding at Morgan before guiding her husband back toward the area where Mom’s friends had gathered to drink wine and share old memories.
My sister got to her feet as they left. “If you’re okay, I’m going to go find my husband and help him celebrate his anniversary. Chick, you’re leaving the RV here overnight, right?”
When he didn’t answer, we both looked around to find him back beside the tent, deep in conversation with Kingston. Probably about the documentary.
“I’ll assume that’s a yes and it’s ours for the night.” She kissed my cheek and gave me a finger wave. “You really did do great out there today. I love you, August.”
“I love you too. Go find Gene and take care of my sister.”
I waggled my eyebrows and she laughed, disappearing into the crowd while I looked around the circle of empty camp chairs and sighed. “And then she was alone again.”
“You’re never going to be alone again. You know that, right? You’re stuck with me.”
I was already smiling when Wade turned me into his arms. “How’s Bernie?”
“She needs to let off some steam. Today shook her up more than she’s letting on. She’s not used to failing.”
“She didn’t fail,” I said, offended on her behalf. “She was completely blameless.”
“She doesn’t see it that way. It’ll be fine. Did I hear Morgan say she’s stealing our RV of love?”
I snuggled closer and nodded against his chest. “I hope I didn’t leave my underwear in there. Tomorrow, we’ll call dibs.”
“Tomorrow? You’re not planning to race again, are you?”
“Hell no.” I leaned back and stared at his mouth. “I’m done with racing. I’d rather take my time. Like Myrtle.”
His lips twitched. “I’m not mad about that. I didn’t like standing on the sidelines while you were out there. The next time you decide to take a risk like that, I want to be beside you.”
Lady bait.
I nuzzled his prickly chin with my cheek and murmured, “You are surprisingly good at this romance thing. ”
“You said you didn’t need it. I never said I couldn’t deliver.” His hands cupped my ass and I twined my arms around his neck, tipping my head back to look at him. “I was thinking, after we fulfill Sam’s boat request, we should take a long weekend, just the two of us. Maybe go to Maine.”
So good at romance.
“I love you.” It kept bursting out of me, this feeling I had for him. “Get used to hearing it, because I can’t stop saying it.”
“I know.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” I swatted his chest playfully. “The sci-fi geek doesn’t get to ‘ I know ’ me after I put myself out there for everyone with a radio to hear and you waited so long to say it.”
“I love you too,” he said, with humor twinkling in his eyes. “I meant it when I said you won’t be alone again, August. If you changed your mind and decided to move away tomorrow, I’d be right behind you. I refuse to spend another minute without you. Is that better?”
“Meh.”
We both laughed. And then he kissed me until I was saying yes again.
Yes.
Yes.
“If you say no to everything, you’ll miss…everything.”
She was right again.
This was what she’d been talking about.
This was everything.