Chapter 46 Regan
FORTY-SIX
REGAN
“There you are,” Dad says. “Where did you end up last night?”
“I crashed at Leslie’s,” I lie. I make a mental note to text her so that she can back me up in case Dad asks her. Not that I think he will, but I’ve been lying to Dad a lot lately, and need to be sure that they check out.
“I figured as much. Let’s go home.” I follow Dad into the bus and settle into the front seat. I usually have my truck, but it’s still in the shop getting brakes and tires, and it wasn’t ready before this trip.
I’m scrolling through apps when I decide to check the points, and I’m sorry I did. I’m only eight points ahead of Dean. Hicks is five behind Dean. This season could come down to being a nailbiter instead of a runaway for us like we had planned.
As I’m scrolling through some TikTok videos, my phone starts blowing up with notifications from Instagram. It’s nonstop, and somehow, I catch the text that Leslie has sent amongst the chaos.
Leslie
Did you see this? What happened? *link to an Instagram post*
With shaky hands, I click the link, not knowing what I’m going to find once it’s loaded.
Username IanHicksRacing:
*an image of Hicks’ bloodied face*
@DeanDixonRacing punched me in the face last night for stealing his girl @ReganBradyofficial
#fight#punchedintheface#didmisterstealyourgirl
How could Hicks post something like this?
Throwing both Dean and I under the bus to do what?
To try and steal the championship from either one of us?
I’d take Dean winning the championship than Ian.
Ramon has to have seen this already, or will soon.
The likes and comments are continuing to climb as I sit here staring at my phone, willing it to go away.
My thumbs fly over my keyboard as I respond to Leslie.
Me
It isn’t what you think. I’ll explain later
Leslie
You better
My mind is swimming as the comments continue to flood in. I’m about to mute my phone when a text from Dean comes through.
Dean
Idk if you’ve seen Hicks’ post yet. I’m going to take care of it. Don’t worry
Me
I’ve seen it. My phone is blowing up. Idk how this can be fixed
Dean
Everything will be fine
Despite how anxious I am about this, I smile at Dean’s message and his confidence that everything will be fine. Just those words alone loosen the knot that has formed in my stomach.
Dad turns to me from the driver’s seat, and his gaze burns the side of my face. Part of me wants to tell him what’s happening. He’s going to find out as soon as we’re back, anyway. I just want to prolong the embarrassment of having to tell my dad about this situation, about Dean, all of it.
My shoulders relax as he turns his attention back to the road and doesn’t ask me any questions.
The rest of the drive home is mostly silent with only the sounds of the wind and the music that Dad is humming along to.
We unpack the RV in more silence and I sit on the couch, staring at the little piece of wallpaper that has started to come up in a corner near the ceiling.
You can barely tell it’s there, but I’ve been looking at it for so long, I’m never going to be able to unsee it.
My mind swirls with thoughts and ideas of how this could possibly be fixed. This looks bad for both me and Dean, and I’m at a loss of how this could end well for either of us.
The cushion on the couch next to me dips as Dad sits next to me.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.
Just like he used to when I was little and needed to be comforted.
The last time he held me like this was probably after Mom’s funeral.
Tears prick behind my eyes, and I’m not sure if it’s due to the memory of Mom, or having to tell Dad what happened at the party last night.
Probably a bit of both. We stay like this for a long moment, and Dad breaks the silence looming between us.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
I sniffle and wipe the tears that have fallen with the back of my hand. I shake my head before answering. “I need to try to figure this out on my own.”
“You know I’m always here for you, right? Good, bad, and ugly. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”
“I know, Dad. I appreciate it. I need to do this on my own first.” I need time to process everything and talk to Dean. It’s just so embarrassing to talk about something like this with your dad. It would mean telling him certain things that I’m sure he doesn’t want to know.
Dad nods, though he probably knows more than what he lets on, but doesn’t want to push me too hard.
“Okay. I’m here when you’re ready. Are you still going to come with me to see Mom tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yeah. It’s overdue that I see her.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze, and heads into the kitchen to start dinner for us.
The next day, we are on our way to the local cemetery to visit Mom.
It’s been so long since I’ve been here, and being back brings on a slew of emotions that I’m not prepared for.
Memories flash of her funeral and lowering her into the ground, for good.
I swipe tears away that have already begun to fall by the time Dad and I park the car and walk to her gravestone.
Dad places the bouquet of flowers in front of the grey stone.
Clara Brady: Beloved Mother and Wife
Live life for you
For your dreams to become reality
Live life for you, something Mom always used to say. To do what you want with your life, following your dreams and passions no matter what the naysayers think. It’s something I think about almost every day, and why I’ve thrown everything I have into racing and getting into the Cup series.
We stand here for a bit in silence as more tears run down my cheeks. Dad tells her that he loves and misses her, kisses me on the head, and says he’s going to wait for me in the car. Once I hear the door slam shut, the flood gates open as tears pour down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say, hiccupping through my tears.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you. I wish you were still here.
I could use some Mom advice right now.” The wind gently blows across my tear-stained cheeks, like a caress of her hand, letting me know she’s here.
“I think I messed up. Not only may it ruin my dreams to get into Cup, but I may have screwed over a guy I think I like.” Another small breeze, as if to counter my words. “Okay, a guy I know I like.”
I fill her in on everything, just as if she were physically here, and as weird as it sounds, I know that she’s listening.
“What do I do? How do I fix this? Can I be with Dean and have my dream of being in Cup?” I wait for her response to hit me, and take in a breath and thank her.
Always knowing what to say. I think I know what I have to do, what I should do.
I climb back into the passenger seat and click my seatbelt.
“Looks like you and Mom had a lot to talk about,” Dad says, looking proud. I know he’s glad I came back here with him. I am, too.
“We did. It was nice. I feel like she was here today.”
Dad places a hand on my shoulder. “Me too, kiddo.”
We leave the cemetery, and for the first time in a long time, thinking about Mom doesn’t bring on the sadness it usually does.
It makes me remember her love, her laugh, her smile, her hugs.
Everything about her that made her the best mom.
I’d rather remember her for the happy times than the reason she’s not with us anymore.