Running Wide Open (33 page)

“Apparently your pep talk worked,” Kasey observed.

“It’s all in the delivery.”

For the next half hour Race abused that car as if it were his own. He pushed it to the edge and beyond, sliding, spinning out, and getting so close to the wall I expected to see sparks. The more he lost control, the less it bothered me. Finally, he pulled off the track. As Big Red growled to a stop beside us, it looked like the only thing keeping Race from sliding to the floorboards was the safety harness.

“Am I gonna have to use the come-along to get you out of that car?” I asked, watching his trembling fingers fumble with the helmet strap.

“I might take you up on that if I’d remembered to bring it.”

Kasey motioned me aside so she could assist him. It occurred to me the attention she was giving him made up for the humiliation.

With considerable effort, Race heaved himself out of the Chevelle. Then, leaning against the car, he broke into shaky laughter. “Damn!” he said. “That’s gotta be one of the most profound experiences of my life.”

Kasey put her arm around his shoulders and directed him to the open side door of the van so he could sit down. “You looked good out there.”

“I feel like I just won the Daytona 500.” Race focused that crazy-assed grin of his on her and for few seconds they got lost in each other. “Thank you,” he said softly, reaching for her hand.

Kasey smiled. “Welcome back.”

After that workout, it was all Race could do to climb up in the passenger’s seat, so I got Big Red back onto the trailer and Kasey drove the van.

“I owe you guys an apology,” Race said as we pulled onto West 11th. “I know I haven’t exactly been easy to live with.”

“Race, you’re a master of understatement,” I observed.

He ignored the sarcasm. “I figured if I just worked hard, everything would come back, but that’s not how it’s been.” He glanced apologetically at Kasey. “It’s gonna take a lot longer than I thought.”

“We don’t care how long it takes,” she assured him. “Cody and I are in this for the long haul. The only thing we care about is that you stop hiding yourself from us.”

With a slight shake of his head, Race turned away. “It’s not that easy. I know you guys think I should be okay with how things are different—how
I’m
different—but I feel like . . . like damaged goods.” He hesitated, struggling with the words. “It seems like everyone’s watching everything I do and feeling sorry for me. I hate it.”

“We love you for who you are, not what you can do,” Kasey said.

I figured humor stood a better chance of making an impact. “If you want, you can have my
As is
T-shirt. Then you wouldn’t have to explain yourself.”

“Cody!” admonished Kasey. But Race broke into exhausted laughter.

“That’s a good one, kid. I might have to take you up on that.”

* * *

The next day Race discovered a whole new meaning to the word “frustration” as he took a stab at organizing Kasey’s books. Remembering the receipts I’d found the day I’d cleaned the shop, I gave him a heads up about Kasey’s filing system. He made a broad sweep of the building, looking in every nook and cranny, but just when he thought he’d collected all the receipts, Kasey told him about the ones in the glove box of the Charger.

“That reminds me,” Race said. “Where’s your vehicle mileage log?”

“What vehicle mileage log?”

“The one you should be keeping to record the trips you make to get parts or haul cars. You can deduct that stuff, you know.”

“Oh,” said Kasey, “I didn’t even think about that.”

Race shook his head and retreated to the office, where he got to work transferring the information from the receipts to a spreadsheet he’d created on the computer. The keyboard presented a challenge to his compromised motor skills, and he swore at it under his breath until he came up with the idea of jabbing the keys with the eraser-end of a pencil. Creating ways to compensate for his limitations was one of the tricks he’d learned in therapy.

While Race was shocked by Kasey’s lack of business sense, both Kasey and I were equally astonished at how good he seemed to be at that stuff. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Grandpa would be so proud of you,” I taunted.

Race snorted. “You underestimate his capacity for disapproval.”

* * *

That night Kasey dropped me off at karate practice then went to Race’s shop to help him and Denny work on the Dart. I was torn, wanting to be in two places at once, and expected to have trouble concentrating. It surprised me that once I got through the warm-up exercises, my thoughts zeroed in on the lesson.

“That’s how it should be,” the sensei told me after class. “You’re developing harmony between your mind, body, and spirit. By practicing the moves and breathing, along with the philosophy, you’re gaining control over your whole self.”

The word “whole” resonated with me the rest of the night. Until all the pieces had started coming together, I’d never realized how scattered I used to feel.

* * *

Kasey and the guys got a lot accomplished, but not enough for the 8 car to make practice the next day, so Race borrowed Big Red again.

It was a small crowd Wednesday night—just us, Denny, Holly Schrader, and a handful of drivers from the other divisions. I didn’t know half the people, but they knew Race and made a big deal about welcoming him back.

Considering how wheezed out the Chevelle was, Race turned some respectable times. To everyone else it must’ve looked like he’d taken up right where he left off back in June. Only Kasey and I knew what a struggle he’d had Monday. At least this time he wasn’t quite so exhausted when he climbed out of Big Red at the end of the night.

On the way home we dropped off Denny’s car before hitting the closest convenience store so I could get a sugar fix. Race bolted down a package of Twinkies under Kasey’s disapproving eye then tried to bum some of my M&Ms.

“Forget it,” I said, clutching the bag to my chest. “You coulda got your own.”

“I only want a couple.”

We tormented each other the rest of the way home, trying Kasey’s patience with our banter. I was surprised Race had the energy to goof off, but like a turbo kicking in, the change in his mental state seemed to provide him with an extra boost of horsepower.

“So when’s Addamsen taking you on a tour of the Hamm’s Brewery?” I asked as we got out of the van at the house. “I hear they’re giving out free samples.”

“Nah, they stopped doing that after the government forced them to print the number for Poison Control on the cups.”

I winged an M&M at Race as he started up the stairs. It missed and rattled off the handrail. He turned around, barely ducking in time to avoid having the next one hit him in the face. Instead, it bounced off Kasey’s back.

“Stop it, you two,” she said, going into mother-mode without even looking at us. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Yeah. You could put an eye out with one of those things,” Race deadpanned. With one hand clutching the railing in his only concession to fatigue, he ignored my ongoing barrage of candy-coated chocolate and plodded up the steps.

“That wouldn’t slow you down any. You’re The Legend. Race Morgan, the guy who can out-drive Death, who drinks Hamm’s beer and lives to tell about it, who—” I reached the top of the stairs and Race snatched my M&Ms.

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said. “Stealing candy from a kid!”

Inside the house, the phone began to ring. As Kasey scrambled to get the door unlocked, I made a grab for my M&Ms, but Race yanked them away, backing against the railing and dangling them out of reach.

“If you want ’em so bad why don’t you just take ’em?” he mocked. “Or have I been wasting your dad’s money on those karate lessons?”

“I could, but I’d have to knock you on your ass, and Kasey’d kick me out if I hurt you.”

“Guess you’re outta luck then, huh?” Race shook the bag.

“Not necessarily.” Foregoing karate, I resorted to a sneakier tactic—tickling. It caught Race completely off guard. He dropped the candy, grabbing at my hands to ward off the assault.

“That’s enough!” Kasey stood in the doorway, something in her expression implying she was upset about more than our horseplay. I stopped in mid-tickle and Race pulled away from me, gasping.

“What’s wrong?” he panted.

Kasey glanced from one of us to the other as if unsure of how to deliver the news. “That was your mother, Cody. She’s coming into town on Friday. Somehow she seems to have gotten the impression you’re going to Phoenix permanently. She said to be sure you had everything packed.”

Chapter 31

Race stared at me, eyes wide with pain and bewilderment. “You’re leaving?”

“No!” I swear, I would’ve rather been run over by a Super Stock than have him look at me like that. “She wanted me to visit, and all I said was I’d think about it. No way am I gonna go live with her.” I turned on Kasey, feeling betrayed by both her and my mother. “You see? This is how she is. You can’t trust her.”

“Cody—”

“I shoulda known better! I can’t believe I fell for it again.”

“I think you’re overreacting. She must have misunderstood you. Or maybe I’m interpreting this whole thing wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Race demanded.

Sighing, Kasey sank into one of the deck chairs. “I thought it might be a good idea for Cody to get away for awhile, just until you had more of a handle on things. When Saundra told me she wanted him to come visit, it seemed like the perfect solution.”

“You were gonna send him to his mother? She ran out on him. She’s a selfish, manipulative—”

“Race, you aren’t helping matters, treating her as though she’s evil incarnate. I realize she’s let both of you down, but if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be together.”

Race snorted. “One moment of misplaced kindness hardly qualifies her for Mother of the Year.”

“She went to bat for Cody when he needed her. She didn’t have to do that.” Kasey filled him in on what she’d told me the other night.

“That’s not the story I got,” Race said, standing with his chin thrust out and his arms across his chest. “She never once mentioned my mother. According to Saundra, the thing at the zoo was a big fuss over nothing. She’s always been an expert liar. She probably told you what she thought you wanted to hear.”

“Except that your mom confirmed the story.”

That zinger totally derailed Race. He eyeballed Kasey without saying a word, jaw clenched and shoulders rigid.

I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to believe Kasey was right, but Race and I had experience on our side.

“The two of you need to give her a chance,” Kasey said, staring hard into Race’s eyes. “I’ve seen firsthand how obstinate you can be about your mother. I can only assume you’re being equally unfair to your sister. It would hardly hurt Cody to stay with her for a few weeks.”

Race’s face was darkened by more than just the night’s shadows. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled. “Your family’s normal. When you’ve got screwed up relatives butting into your life, the best thing to do is walk away.”

“If you want to go on letting your resentment eat at you, that’s your business,” Kasey said. “But you’re not being fair to Cody. That’s something you might want to think about.”

* * *

Kasey’s reprimand hit home with Race. When I asked him for advice later that night, he wouldn’t give me any. “You need to figure this out for yourself,” he said. “I’m obviously not an impartial witness.”

The next morning I tried to call Mom to clarify things, but she wasn’t home. I left a message then spent the next few hours at Kasey’s computer, typing up some old handwritten stories while Race was out running errands. He got back a little before noon.

“Hey, kid, c’mon up here,” he called down the basement steps. “I got us some lunch.”

The enticing scent of pepperoni greeted me as I hoofed it up to the kitchen, where Race had deposited two Cokes and a Track Town box on the table. He popped the lid, wiggled a slice loose, and dropped it onto a paper towel.

“This is an ‘I’m sorry’ pizza,” he explained. “Second cousin to the ‘get well’ pizza.”

I pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don’t owe me any apologies.”

“Yeah I do. Last night when Kasey said you were leaving . . .” Race hesitated, shaking his head as a sort of kicked-puppy look skulked across his face. “I guess that’s the first time it really hit me, how much my attitude was affecting you guys. I can’t say I’d blame you if you
did
want to leave.”

“Well, I don’t,” I said, pulling the tab on my Coke. “And you haven’t exactly got the monopoly on stupid behavior.”

Race grinned.

I reached into the box, taking a slice of pizza from the center of my half so there was little chance of it being contaminated by mushrooms or green peppers. Gooey mozzarella trailed behind, forming lifelines back to the mothership.

“I’ve been a real pain in the ass,” Race said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate the fact you haven’t given up on me. I’d like to think I can handle anything, but the truth is, I couldn’t have gotten through this without you and Kasey. It shakes me up to think about what it woulda been like if this had happened a couple years ago. I wouldn’t have had either one of you.”

Race’s words sent a flash flood of emotion through me. I was touched and embarrassed, but I didn’t know how to respond, so I stuffed my mouth full of pizza and washed it down with a slug of Coke.

“You believed in me, Cody, right from the start. Even when Kasey and everyone else thought I was delusional. You didn’t let me give up, and you called me on it when I got to feeling sorry for myself.”

“Actually, I sorta enjoyed that last part,” I said, ripping savagely at my second piece of pizza.

Race acknowledged my joke with a slight, lopsided grin as he picked up an errant sliver of green pepper and tossed it toward the box. “This thing with the car,” he persisted. “It wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for you. I know that, and I know you went to bat for me with Kasey. As for getting Addamsen to help—well, that was a crazy idea, but—it worked.” He gave me an admiring glance. “It took guts to pull that off.”