CHAPTER 25
Anna
Anna read in bed, waiting for Isaac to return to the hotel.
Her eyes grew bleary, and she yawned, surprised his walk with Vince was taking so long.
They’d been gone for two hours already. Tomorrow was race day, and they could sleep in a little, but still, it was late.
In the morning, they also had the Hero’s Walk and autographs sessions.
Whatever had brought Vince to the door must have been important.
He, too, would want to be at his best tomorrow.
She yawned again, determined to wait up, but fading despite her nerves about Isaac’s last race. She put in her bookmark and was about to flick on the TV, when Isaac opened the door.
“You’re still up,” he said with a smile. “You waited.”
“Of course,” she said. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Vince shocked the hell out of me,” he said, shaking his head. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the end of the bed.
“What did he say?” She held her breath, hoping Vince had been decent.
Isaac shrugged. “It was almost unreal. He drove us out to the track, and we walked around the outer edge. It was completely quiet, like when we were young. We used to walk the tracks at night together. Tonight, we walked and talked, like old times. Just as we got around, near the finish, Vince told me to try to win the race.”
“Of course, you’ll try.” She sat straighter, offended that Vince would suggest that Isaac wouldn’t give it his all. “It’s not like you were going to throw the championship.” She took a better look at Isaac’s face. “Were you?” She took an incredulous breath. “You wouldn’t have done that.”
He shrugged again. “Not on purpose.” He tossed his sweater onto the chair in the corner. “I’ll be right back and then I’ll tell you the rest.” He disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes to get ready for bed before sliding in beside her. “Get the light?”
She flicked off the reading lamp and moved into the warm circle of Isaac’s arm, resting her head on his chest and shoulder. She didn’t want to push, confident he would explain.
The darkness settled around them, and it was a couple of minutes before he spoke.
“Vince said I crashed last time because I didn’t think I could win.
That I lost concentration and let him win.
Subconsciously, maybe I did.” His voice sounded thoughtful, but he hadn’t tensed up. This might not be news.
“Do you think it might be true?”
She felt him nod before he said, “Deep down, I might have been trying to put Vince first again. More than anything, he wants another championship.”
“Don’t you?” Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she was able to make out Isaac’s face. She searched for any signs of distress.
Isaac’s eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling. “I never thought I’d win. I didn’t expect to even be a contender.”
“And now?” The pale seam of light that snuck in under the door reflected from his eyes. “You’re the Cinderella of the year.”
He laughed. “I hadn’t pictured myself as any sort of princess.”
“I just mean the underdog. Isn’t that how they’re billing you?”
“It is.” His arm tightened around her. “I want to win,” he whispered, like he was trying out the sound of the words, still barely able to believe it himself.
“What do you think is different this year? Why now?”
“Vince said it was the bike.” He sounded unhappy again.
“That was before, when he was being an ass. He doesn’t believe that in reality. What do you think?”
“I think I’m happier and know better what I want. It’s helped me focus.” He kissed her. “You’re a big part of that, but it’s as much because in going after you, and putting myself first, I think I also did that on the track most of the season.”
“Then that’s what you need to do tomorrow. Win for yourself. You’ve worked so hard all year, and you deserve it every bit as much as your brother, if not more. He already has twelve championships.”
“You’re biased.” Isaac kissed her. “I have a feeling you aren’t used to putting yourself first, either. You can remind me to put myself first sometimes, and I’ll remind you.”
“I’ll try,” she said in a whisper. “It’s tough to break lifelong habits, as you know.”
“Who did you put first? Everyone else?” said Isaac. “I still know next to nothing about your family, other than you were raised by your grandmother who hoped someday you would be a writer.”
Anna didn’t say anything at first. “My parents didn’t want me.”
“That can’t be true.” The words popped out of his mouth.
He must be thinking of his own parents. Carmela was warm and loving, and from the sound of it, his father had been supportive and kind. They’d been a family that put their sons’ needs and futures ahead of their own.
“I don’t want to make tonight about me,” she said. “Adam used to say I did that.” He’d never understood that sharing her connection was her way of relating to situations.
“I’m not Adam and I can’t sleep, anyway. Talk to me. Tell me about your childhood. I want to listen.” Isaac’s arms tightened.
Her heart ached with old wounds, but she trusted Isaac.
“I was a difficult child who was intense and cried a lot. I hadn’t been diagnosed yet, and my parents struggled to figure out what to do with me, so I made myself unimportant.
I didn’t want to be a bother. I tried not to ask for anything, even hugs or attention.
When I was diagnosed with autism, it became clear that I needed more than many neurotypical kids.
My parents didn’t have any money, and they fought about me all the time. ”
“How old were you?” Isaac’s voice seemed far away as she slipped deeper into the memories.
“Eight. I don’t think they realized I could hear their arguments, or how much I understood.
But I did.” She took a deep breath. “The walls were paper thin in the apartment. My dad said I wasn’t worth the extra money they would need to spend on therapy and doctors.
He wished I was normal.” Her voice had become a whisper.
She’d told no one her father’s words, not even her grandmother.
Isaac’s arm tightened again. “That’s awful. At least your mother must have thought you were worth it.”
She wished that were true. “Not for long. My dad left soon after that and my mom couldn’t cope on her own. When I was nine, she got fired for leaving her job when the school called, insisting that I be picked up early. I’d had a problem with another student and gotten upset. A meltdown.”
She paused and wiped the tears that leaked from her eyes, and her chest tightened. She’d never shared this part with anyone, either.
“My mom packed up my clothes and grabbed a couple of my favorite books. She drove us to her mother’s house and rang the doorbell.
Right on the porch, she handed my suitcase to my grandmother.
” Her voice caught as she continued. “My mom said, ‘You wanted a granddaughter. She’s not worth this much work. She’s all yours. ’ Then she walked away.”
Isaac squeezed her gently. “Have you heard from her since?”
“She didn’t call or write, though she sent my grandmother emails from time to time, and she never visited.
When I was thirteen, I snuck onto my grandmother’s computer and searched through her old messages.
Not once did my mother even ask about me.
When my grandmother died, my mother came to the funeral but treated me like a stranger, like she was lost in her own grief.
She left immediately afterward, and we haven’t spoken in all these years.
I don’t even know where she lives.” Anna’s tears released in earnest, great wracking sobs that shook her body.
For all the tears, speaking of the past was a cathartic release.
“I want you,” said Isaac, tightening his grip. “Mi Corazon, you’re wonderful. I think you are worth it a thousand times over. It’s perfect that we found each other.”
His simple statement reminded her that in her new life—she was valued and loved. It was time to let go of the pain in her past. She had a new family.
. . .
Anna stood on the starting grid. Isaac was in P2, and Vince was on pole.
Even their final race would begin side-by-side.
She glanced at her soon-to-be brother-in-law, his face a mask of total concentration.
Catarina grinned back at Anna, her face aglow with excitement.
This race would decide who was this year’s champion.
Twenty-two races, and it was still undecided, a reporter’s dream.
Anna’s heart fluttered, and she wiped her palms against the bottom edge of her shirt, gripping the umbrella to keep it steady on her last umbrella girl gig.
They were into the final minutes, between the sighting lap and the final pre-race warm-up lap.
The countdown clock ticked down the minutes until the season’s finale.
Isaac’s eyes were open, but his focus was elsewhere.
She glanced from him to Vince and back. Isaac’s face mirrored his brother’s.
They’d never looked more alike, wearing twin masks of concentration as they blocked out the rest of the world.
With one minute left, the non-riders cleared the grid, leaving only the racers.
A pushy reporter called to Angel as they returned to pit lane. “Are there team orders from Honda? Do the bosses have a preference on who should win #VasquezShowdown? Do they prefer Vince and the factory team to win?”
Angel kept walking.
The reporter persisted. “Does Isaac have free rein to go for the win?”
It had never occurred to Anna that Honda might have a preference between Isaac and Vince, and her heart thumped hard against her ribs.
Angel turned and spoke into the mic. “If there were orders, they relayed nothing to me. The guys will sort it out on the track.” He continued into the box with his clipboard and stared at the screen, waiting for the start.
Anna turned for a last look before entering the box where they’d watch from the screen with the race commentary. With a rev of engines, the riders departed for their final warm-up lap. This was it.