After a quick bathroom break, I changed into my swimsuit. Hayden groaned when he saw me. He’d gotten completely dressed in my absence, and the front of his jeans was quickly thickening as he drank me in. Rubbing himself, he shook his head. “You couldn’t have waited to put that on until I was gone?”
“You’d prefer it if I’d stayed wrapped in a sheet?” I asked.
With a pained expression, he nodded. “Yes, seeing you hiding behind a sheet would have been much easier than seeing all of my favorite things highlighted in tight black spandex. God, that ass…” He mimed squeezing my backside.
I laughed at his movement, then raised a finger at him. “Just be glad I’m in my one-piece, not my bikini.” This particular suit even had long sleeves for warmth, not that you’d know that by Hayden’s reaction.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Still laughing, I gathered up the rest of my stuff and headed to the garage. I paused in the doorway when I saw my two racing motorcycles. They were collecting dust in the corner, sad mementoes of a golden age that I hadn’t even realized was perfect. I’d probably never get to use them again. Briefly closing my eyes, I let the grief pool in my chest, then pushed it away. The past was the past, and I’d done my grieving yesterday. It was time to move forward. Somehow.
I headed for my surfboard and began attaching it to my truck. Hayden popped in to say goodbye with a sweet, lingering kiss. Raising the garage door, he walked outside to his bike waiting in the driveway. He put on his helmet, then popped open the visor and lifted his hand in goodbye. His eyes held a deep look of empathy; it was a familiar sight on him.
Faking my best happy grin, I waved goodbye. Hayden didn’t appear to buy my forced cheer, but he had places to be, so he slammed down his visor and twisted his bike around to leave. My smile fell the second he was gone. I was so tired of having nothing productive to do. I was so tired of hating almost everything about my life.
Putting away my pity party, I climbed into my truck and headed for the beach. Several minutes later, I was pulling into my favorite surfing spot. After unstrapping my board from my truck, I headed down an almost indecipherable trail. It led over a small hill, and then through a patch of bare trees until it finally reached the ocean. The beach was thankfully empty this morning, and I was grateful for that; I wanted to be alone.
The chill instantly pressed upon my skin when I stepped into the ocean, constricting and contracting until my feet felt a little numb. Ignoring the sensation, I laid the board on the rolling surface and paddled my way past the waves. I was breathing heavier by the time I made it over the breakers, but it was mainly from excitement. My ride was about to start, and in the back of my mind, I clearly saw the bank of red lights that preluded the start of every motorcycle event.
Sitting on the board, I lined up with the waves, and waited for the perfect one to show itself. When it did, the mental lights in my head shifted to green, and I dug my hands into the brisk water to pull myself closer. Go, go, go!
Much like motorcycle racing, timing and balance were everything in surfing. My form was absolutely perfect as I popped up to stand on the board, and as the speed of the wild surf rocketed me toward the shore, joy pounded through my veins. This was what I’d been missing. Almost.
The rush of the free-flowing movement made me want to giggle, and while I knew this substitute for racing wouldn’t satisfy me forever, it at least made today a little more bearable.
After a couple of hours on the waves, my body was spent, and I knew it was time to pack it in. Trudging back up to my truck, I reattached my surfboard, hopped inside, and made my way back home. I’d just pulled into the driveway when my phone chimed with a text message. Even though I knew the odds were slim, my heart raced at the thought that maybe it was my dad…maybe he was caving on his tough-love discipline.
Hope in my heart, I mentally crossed my fingers as I grabbed my phone and glanced at the screen. My mood deflated like an untied balloon when I saw the screen. It wasn’t my family. Not my actual family, anyway. It was Izzy, the woman who was like a little sister to Hayden; she was quickly becoming a little sister to me too. ‘Hey, girlie. Want to come over for lunch?’
Smiling at her text, I responded, ‘Yeah, I need to change, then I’ll be right over.’
After a quick rinse-off in the shower, I threw on some clothes then headed out the door again, but on my bike this time. Izzy lived in an apartment building south of Oceanside, just a little outside of San Diego, so she could be close to the children’s hospital—it was one of the top ten in the country. Unfortunately, Antonia was there all too often.
Hayden had been nervous to take me to Izzy’s in the beginning. Meeting her had sort of been like meeting his parents; it had been a big step for our relationship. I’d instantly bonded with Izzy and her daughter, and we’d been fast friends ever since. There were days I literally didn’t know what I would do without her. Wondering if Antonia would be joining us for lunch or if she’d be in school, I gingerly knocked on Izzy’s door. When she opened it a few seconds later, her smile was wide and welcoming, but there was fatigue on her face and exhaustion in her eyes; it never seemed to completely leave her.
“Hey, Izzy,” I said, wrapping her in a warm hug.
“Hey, Kenzie,” she responded, holding me tight.
The embrace was a little too firm, though, and I instantly knew something was up. “Everything okay?” I asked.
She sighed as she pulled away, confirming what I’d already suspected—everything wasn’t okay. “Yes, no…I don’t know.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, stepping all the way inside. I could smell something amazing coming from her kitchen. It made my mouth water, but I pushed the hunger aside so I could focus on my friend.
Closing the door, she told me, “Antonia. She’s been struggling with eating lately. The doctors have been telling her she can’t afford to lose any more weight, but she hasn’t been getting much down. Her doctors finally admitted her yesterday, so they could put in a feeding tube and get some nutrition in her. She’s so upset…she didn’t want to miss school. She’s getting so sick of this, and frankly, so am I. She’s just a little girl…”
Her tiny body was shivering with restraint as she tried to keep her torment inside. Seeing her on the verge of a breakdown made me desperately wish that I instinctively knew what to do in these situations. Heavy emotions made me so uncomfortable; I just wanted to bury my head in the sand and pretend everything was fine. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled her in for another hug; she immediately started crying.
“I should be at the hospital with her right now, but I just…I needed a break. I felt like I was going to shatter into a thousand pieces if I didn’t get out of there.” Pulling back, she looked up at my face. “Am I a horrible mother?” she asked, fat tears dripping down her cheeks.
White-hot grief ripped through me at seeing her pain, and my own eyes filled with tears as I rushed to reassure her. “God, no, of course not. You’re the best mom I know,” I said. “A person can only take so much…and when you go back, you’ll be refreshed, ready to take on more. Knowing your limits is a good thing.” And something my dad often reminded me of.
Izzy smiled, and I saw the relief in her eyes. “Thank you, I really needed to hear that. I’ve been feeling awful.” Drying her cheeks, she nodded her head toward the incredible smells. “Come on, let’s have lunch. I made tamales.”
Oh God. I didn’t know whether I should hug her again, or smack her for leading me into temptation. I wasn’t exactly keeping up with my old exercise routine right now, and I was getting a little doughy. But Izzy needed me, and she needed me to partake in this with her, so I was going to gladly eat a mountain of delicious calories. Because that was what friends did for each other.
As we sat down with plates of heaping food, I took a quick look around Izzy’s modest home. Most of her life was dedicated to her little girl and that was evident everywhere I looked. “Aside from what’s going on now…how a
re you holding up?” I asked. “Financially, I mean. Do you have everything you need?”
Izzy smiled as she pulled the husk off a tamale. “Hayden has been exceedingly generous with his winnings, and I’m very careful with what I spend money on…so yeah, we’re fine for now. It’s sweet of you to ask, though.”
I shrugged as I pulled apart my own tamale. “You and Antonia are the closest thing I have to family, now that mine are pretty much out of the picture. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
Izzy frowned as she absorbed that. “They really cut you out? Because of Hayden?”
“Because of many things, but yeah…it basically all boils down to Hayden. They just don’t see what I see.” That he was amazing, that he loved me unconditionally, that he’d do just about anything to protect me. Dad just couldn’t get over our beginning to see that.
“Hayden is the type of person you have to get used to,” she laughed. “They’ll come around.” As I watched her take a bite of her tamale, I truly hoped so.
Izzy watched me take a nibble of the amazing meal she’d prepared. The corn flour and meat hit my taste buds and my eyes rolled back into my head. So good. Izzy smiled at my reaction, then asked, “So, how have things been going for you and Hayden…lately.”
I knew by the odd pause in her question that she was asking about Felicia. I didn’t really want to talk about Hayden’s ex, but she was on my mind. Or rather, Hayden’s loyalty to his past was on my mind. “I don’t want to burden you with that. You’ve got enough to deal with without having to listen to me whine.”
Izzy gave me a wide grin before taking another bite. “Please…burden me.” Her expression more somber, she shook her head. “This might sound strange, but it’s nice to focus on problems besides my own. It makes things seem less…overwhelming.”
I gave her a rueful smile. I definitely understood avoidance. “I get that. Okay…well…Hayden mentioned something odd last night, and it’s kind of got me thinking.” Izzy lifted a dark eyebrow in expectation, and I sighed. “He’s been debating contacting Hookup. After everything Hookup did…I just don’t understand why Hayden would want to mend that fence.”
Izzy didn’t seem as confused as me. With a slow shake of her head, she murmured, “Hayden and his damn loyalty. It’s difficult for him to cut people out of his life. Once you’re in with Hayden…you’re in for life. Even if you don’t deserve to be.”
God, I was afraid of that. “And…does that go for Felicia too? Is she…in for life with him?” I could barely get the words out, and once they were, a part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. If I could have sucked them back in, I would have.
With another tamale halfway to her lips, Izzy hesitated before saying anything. “You don’t know how badly I want to say no, Kenzie. I like you. I really like you, and I think you’re amazing for Hayden. I’ve never seen him happier…but…”
“But once you’re in, you’re in,” I sighed.
“Yeah…” Setting her food down, she added, “My brother and Hayden, this isn’t their first fight, although, it’s certainly been their most serious one. But they always make up. Hayden always forgives him. He always lets Tony back in…”
From the way she stressed the word always, I knew exactly what she wasn’t saying. “And her too, right?”
Izzy’s lips firmed into a hard line. “In the past…yes. Felicia too.” Her face relaxed after she said it, and she gave me a small, encouraging smile. “But who knows, maybe this time it will be different. He has you now, after all.”
I gave her a quick smile before shoving the tamale into my mouth. Right, he has me now.
The last few months of my life circled through my head as I said goodbye to Izzy. I didn’t want to go back to hiding in my house, futilely waiting as the world revolved around me. No, I needed to act. I needed to swallow my fear and finally face my father. It was time for the cold war to end. Besides, dealing with my father sounded easy in comparison to dealing with Izzy’s statement. He always forgives her, he always lets her back in. No, this time it would be different.
Shoving that worry from my head, I gathered my courage and headed to my father’s house. Even though I’d made this drive fifteen million times before, it felt foreign. It used to always give me a feeling of homecoming when I came back to the place where I grew up, but today, all I was filled with was trepidation. I hadn’t talked to Dad in so long, I wasn’t sure what I would say. Or if he would even let me say it. There was a very real possibility that he would keep pretending I didn’t exist, even if I was right in front of him. He was that stubborn.
A curve in the driveway showed me the modest two-story farmhouse that had been my childhood home. Mom had loved animals, and Dad had given her every sort of creature he could find—horses, cows, ducks, goats, chickens, rabbits…you name it, and Mom had raised it. Of course, Dad hadn’t kept up on the livestock after Mom had died. Or the house, really. Everywhere I looked, the home was spotted with age. Just like the track, it was slowly being abandoned, neglected, and it broke my heart to see it crumbling to pieces.
Dad’s truck was in parked in front of the faded red barn when I got there. At least he was home. One of the barn doors had fallen off its top hinge, and was resting haphazardly against the other door. It had been like that for years, and I knew Dad had no plans to fix it; there was nothing inside the barn anyway. Nothing but ghosts.
Parking my bike next to Dad’s truck, I shut off the engine and looked around to see if he was watching me. It didn’t appear that he was. Removing my helmet, I inhaled the fresh air of my youth, trying to calm the butterflies inside my belly. Feeling nostalgic, I hopped off the bike and walked past the barn, to an oval ring of asphalt in the backyard. Dad’s makeshift motorcycle course was the only thing he’d ever truly kept in tiptop shape around here, but I could see signs of disuse growing in the weeds inching closer and closer to the concrete. A pang of remembered joy went through me at seeing the simple racetrack. I’d first started practicing my corners on it, going one direction, and then turning around and going the other. Every day I’d come out here, rain or shine, filled with dreams of how amazing my life would be when I was old enough to compete. I never imagined it would end so soon.
“Mackenzie? What are you doing here?”
Shaking off that melancholy thought, I spun around to see my father standing there with a stern, disapproving look on his face, like he’d caught a trespasser. And I supposed I was trespassing at the moment. I was so happy to see him, though, that I could feel the tears pricking my eyes. God, I missed my family. “Hey, Dad. I was hoping…we could talk.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Dad examined me with curious eyes. The blonde hair he’d genetically gifted to my sisters was mostly gray now. The aged color had seeped into his eyes too, darkening the bright blue to a steely gray. He looked worn to the bone, with dark circles under his eyes, like none of the stresses he’d faced recently had eased with closing the business. Was that because of me? “You’ve broken it off with that Benneti boy then? Good, I’m glad to hear you’ve come to your senses,” he said, his voice gruff.
I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him to knock it off and just let his stupid feud with Keith go. It had already cost him way too much; he might have been able to salvage Cox Racing if he hadn’t lost control and punched Keith at an event. “No, I haven’t. But I’m not here to talk about him. I’m here to talk about us. You can’t shut me out forever.”
Like I’d just told him everything he believed in was inconsequential, Dad’s expression crumpled; his stern mask of disapproval was back mere seconds later though. Face firm, he started turning away from me. “If you’re not here to tell me you’re done with that foolishness, then we have nothing to discuss,” he said over his shoulder.
Fury expanded from my chest to warm every inch of me, and even though there was a refreshing breeze in the air, I felt like I was standing in the Sahara Desert, parched with thirst. “Don’t you dare walk away from me
!” I yelled.
Startled at my outburst, Dad stopped and turned my way again. He seemed angry now, too, but he was keeping his emotions in check much better than me. “You still have issues with control, I see.”
My fingernails dug into my palms. “This has to stop, Dad. You can’t keep ignoring me. I’m your daughter.”
Sadness swept over Dad, crushing my heart and diminishing my fury. “You’re the one who placed this barrier between us, Mackenzie. I can’t fix this, only you can. You know what to do, you just refuse to do it.” Heat finally entered his voice, and I saw the hurt and anguish he was going through in the brief crack in his facade; this was killing him.
Inhaling a deep breath, I slowly and calmly approached him. “It doesn’t have to be him or you. There’s room for both of you in my heart.”
“There’s not room for him in mine,” he snapped.
I tossed my arms out to the side. “So hate him! That’s fine! Just don’t shut me out because you don’t like my boyfriend! Don’t end my career because of him!”
Dad’s eyebrow lifted at my words. “Your career? That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? This has nothing to do with repairing your family, you just want to ride again.”
Guilt tore through me—in a way, he was right—but he was oversimplifying the problem. “Of course not. My family means more than racing; my family means everything. I miss you all…so much.” My eyes started watering as the truth of those words hit me. Crazy, obsessive compulsive Daphne, easy going Theresa…my stern, emotionally-reluctant father…my life would never be entirely complete if they weren’t a part of it.
Dad’s eyes softened as he studied the pain in my watery gaze. He opened his mouth, then shut it. As I watched, helpless, I saw his features harden with stubborn determination. “If we mean everything, then you’ll have no problem doing the right thing. And…I think you should do it before you come back here again.”