Boardwalk Summer

by Kimberly Fisk

  Hope paused in blowing her nose. “All the widows? How many are there?”

  The question caused Nick to pause. When he once again sat down next to her, she couldn’t help but notice that now there was space between them. Had she created it or had he? “Racing involves risks.”

  “I know that. I knew that.” She blotted her eyes, wiped her nose. “Or I think I did.”

  “I’ve never hidden that fact from you.”

  “No, but today shined a spotlight on something I did my best to look away from.”

  “What are you saying, Hope?”

  She turned, angling herself until she was facing him. “What do you mean, exactly, by ‘take care of them’?”

  “We provide financial assistance to the widows who need it.”

  Financial assistance. Money. “Life is about more than money.”

  Nick drew back, crossing his arms across his chest. “Life is damn hard without it.”

  She’d shredded her Kleenex into a million pieces. “I won’t argue that fact. But all the money in the world can’t bring him back. I think it’s admirable what you and the others do, please don’t get me wrong. But for all your support, Rick Jarrett’s wife and his little boy are going to have to find a way to go on without him. I love you,” she began.

  “I love y—”

  She held up a hand. “Please. Let me finish. I love you. But life is precious.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Too precious to take unnecessary risks.”

  “Unnecessary meaning racing.”

  She set the box of Kleenex on an end table, then shoved the used ones into her pocket. “One day you’re going about your life with your biggest worry being what to make for dinner. The next minute, you’re sitting in a room with a doctor telling you your son has cancer. That’s a risk you can’t avoid. But this—” She waved her hand. “Racing? That’s a risk you can.”

  “Hope,” Nick said, reaching for her hands, taking them in his. “Don’t do this. Don’t walk away. I love you. I want to spend my life with you, with our children. And while this isn’t the right time or the way I planned it or anywhere close to what you deserve . . .” He dropped down onto one knee, still clasping her hands in his. “I love you. More than I ever realized it was possible to love someone. Marry me. Marry me and let me spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.”

  “Oh, Nick.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I . . . I . . .”

  “Hopeful, I’m not that boy who left you on those courthouse steps. I’m not going to leave you ever again.”

  Slowly, she slipped her hands from his, but as her fingers slid from his warm grasp, she felt the detachment as keenly as if her skin were being torn from her. “But you might. That’s my point. I tried, Nick. I really did. But I can’t do this. I can’t be with you only to worry that you might be taken away at any moment. I can’t marry you, Nick. I’m sorry.”

  She could see how deeply she’d hurt him, but she was powerless to take away either of their pain.

  “Life doesn’t come with guarantees, Hope.”

  “No.” She gathered her purse and stood. Stepped around him. “But it doesn’t need to be lived on the edge either.”

  Twenty-three

  AT nearly two hundred miles an hour Nick flew down the back stretch. Adrenaline pulsed through him as the car vibrated with speed and power. He let the roar of the engine and the hot, gas-tinged wind sink into his soul as instinct and pure raw talent took over. Behind the wheel, whether it was during a race, or like now, during a practice run, nothing broke his concentration.

  Except today.

  Never before had he had a problem shutting everything out and concentrating solely on driving. Just the opposite, in fact. During his years of racing, his tunnel vision and unwavering focus had become a source of admiration and good-natured (and some not so good) envy among the other drivers. It was what set him apart. What had helped to carve out the pinnacle he now found himself poised on. But today, it was as if he were a different man. And he knew the reason why.

  Hope.

  He knew he should shut her out of his mind, think instead of his son’s upcoming transplant and the miracle of this second chance. But whenever he thought of Joshua or Susan, his thoughts wound back around to Hope.

  We can’t be a family if you race.

  Nick slammed the gearshift down and stepped on the gas, turning sharply as the outside wall zeroed in.

  Her words burned through him. She wanted him to become something he wasn’t. Someone he wasn’t. Racing was not just a part of him, it was him. And if she couldn’t understand that, they had no future together.

  So why did that thought leave him feeling tortured?

  Rounding the final turn, he pushed heavy on the gas and flew past the finish line. He heard his crew chief in his headset, yelling his time. But for the first time since he’d started racing, he didn’t care. And that scared the hell out of him. Because without racing, who was he?

  But what if Hope was right? What if it was impossible to be both? A racecar driver and a father?

  He came around to the far side of the track and slowed, then swung down pit road. Nearing his position, he braked. Immediately, his crew swarmed over the concrete barrier. Nick dropped the mesh window covering and climbed out.

  “Thought you were gonna eat concrete on that last turn,” Dale said as he walked over to Nick.

  “Never,” Nick said, grabbing a bottle of water from the nearby cooler and chugging down half of it.

  “How’d she handle?”

  For the first time in over a decade, Nick was caught off guard by the question. It was the same thing he’d been asked at least a thousand times before, but today, he didn’t know how to respond. He took another drink and swished it around in his mouth, trying to wash away the grit and dryness and buy himself some time to formulate an answer. “She’s good on the straightaway but loose in the turns.” It was total bullshit and they both knew it.

  Dale stuck his hands in the back pockets of his work overalls and kicked at a loose piece of asphalt.

  “What?” Nick asked when Dale’s silence became telling.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Don’t give me that. We’ve known each other too long.”

  Dale kicked at the pile. “My point exactly.”

  Dale was one of Nick’s closest friends. Over a beer one night, Nick had told him about Joshua and Susan, and Josh’s condition, but that was as far as Nick had gone. Hope was something Nick was going to have to figure out on his own.

  “June wanted me to tell ya somethin’,” Dale said.

  “So now I not only got you yammering at me, I have your wife, too.”

  “She wants me to tell you she’d like to see you on Diane Sawyer.”

  “How did she know about that?” For months, the show’s executive producers had been contacting anyone connected to Nick to see if they could help persuade him to do a one-hour special. The last thing Nick wanted was to sit in front of a camera and chitchat. He was a driver. Period. End of story.

  Dale tilted back his cap, scratched his thick gray head, and then slid his cap back on, giving it a couple of rubs over the top of his head before finally settling it into place. “Those producers got our number somehow. They’ve been calling almost every day.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Dale grinned. “You kidding? The wife’s lovin’ the attention. Gives her somethin’ to tell her bridge group.” Dale didn’t say anything for a moment, then said, “I told her to stop answering their calls because I know you don’t want to talk to them, but you know women.”

  “I used to think so.”

  “So, is that what this has been about?”

  Nick recapped his water. “You mean my shitty driving and lack of concentration?”

 
“That’s what I mean. I know your kid is dealing with a lot right now, and I also saw how your girl ran as fast as she could after that crash.”

  Your girl. But she wasn’t his girl. She’d made that plain when she turned down his proposal. How could she throw away what they felt for each other? He loved her. She loved him, or so she’d said, but if she loved him how could she walk away? Obviously love wasn’t enough. She wanted him to walk away from racing. Quit the one thing that made him great. He’d fought too damn hard to get out of that small town, to shake his father’s shadow and make something of his life. And it was a great life—one he was damn proud of and one he wanted to share with her. Share with her and their children.

  “That crash last Sunday was bad. As bad as they come.” Dale ran a hand across his lower jaw. Looked Nick square in the eyes. “But I’m going to give it to you straight, Nick. Either get your head back in the game or get your car off the track. There’s no middle road out there. You know that better than anyone.”

  Nick drained the last of his water and tossed the bottle into a nearby trash can. “Where’s Bobby? Thought he had the track after us.”

  Dale eyed him. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about it, we won’t. I said my piece, but you keep driving like you’ve been these last few days and I’m yanking that engine out myself. See how far you get then. And to answer your question—Bobby cancelled his practice. His wife called it quits this past weekend. Said she couldn’t take it anymore, especially after what happened to Jarrett.”

  Nick squinted into the sun. “I would’ve laid odds on those two making it.”

  “You and just about everybody else.”

  After Dale left, Nick unzipped the top half of his jumpsuit and straddled the short wall. All around him, his crew was busy reworking the car. A hydraulic jack clanked against the track as the car was hefted into the air. The quick staccato whirr of the cordless impact wrench cracked the air as bolts were zipped off and then snapped back on once the new tire was in place.

  These men and the nearly fifty more who worked for Fortune Enterprises relied on him. Counted on him for their livelihood. But it was more than that, they were a family.

  But Joshua and Susan were his family, too. His first family. And Hope . . .

  She would never accept him into her life while he was still a racecar driver, but what type of man would he be if he walked away?

  There were racers who were husbands and fathers. They made a family work. So could he. Why couldn’t she see that? But no matter what happened between him and Hope, Nick was going to be a father to Joshua and Susan. The best father he knew how to be. He knew it might take time for a relationship to develop between the three of them, but he was a patient man, and he would wait a lifetime if that was what his children needed.

  And then he remembered the calls they’d shared, the texts they’d exchanged, the tentative hug Susan had given him before she’d left, and he felt himself smile. Maybe it wouldn’t take a lifetime.

  * * *

  RAIN had fallen all day. Persistent silver beads that no matter how quickly Hope’s windshield wipers thumped back and forth, back and forth, still hampered her visibility. Red lights flashed in front of her and she slammed on her brakes. Traffic was a nightmare. Rush hour—never a good idea. Rush hour combined with a deluge—an even worse one. Even in Seattle, a city famous for the amount of rain it received, no one seemed to know how to navigate the wet roads.

  Taillights flashed again. On the far right-hand shoulder, two cars were parked, their emergency flashers blinking. The bumper of one car and the hood of the other were smashed. Obviously an accident. A bump.

  Images from that terrible day at the racetrack came flooding back, not that they were ever far away. And then another memory:

  Marry me. Marry me and let me spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.

  She wrapped her fingers around the steering wheel and gripped as tightly as she could. It was almost as if she could still feel the pain of when she’d removed her hands from his . . . when she’d said no to marrying Nick.

  She’d made the right decision. Absolutely. So why then did it hurt so much? And why did her heart insist on thinking about him day after day, night after night, when her son was what mattered?

  She gave herself a mental shake, focused on the here and now. In less than fifteen minutes she was going to pick her mother up from the airport. Tonight was going to be challenging to say the least. And tomorrow emotional.

  Hope still found it almost impossible to believe. Tomorrow Joshua would receive his transplant.

  A myriad of emotions tumbled through her, not the least of which were fear and an excitement for the future she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She tried to push the fear aside, tame it down to a reasonable concern, but it was hard. Her baby boy was about to undergo a major procedure and while the risk was great, the reward could be—would be!—exponentially greater. Joshua and his getting healthy was what mattered. That was what she needed to focus on.

  Even on this dismal early evening, the airport was a hive of activity. Hope had to loop around three times before she found an open spot she could slip into. Well, slip wasn’t exactly the right word. The Navigator was too big to easily slip in and out of normal-sized parking spaces.

  Hope still couldn’t believe she’d relented and started driving the SUV. But putting all things in perspective, figuring out a way to repay Nick was minor when compared to the necessity of a reliable vehicle and her son’s health.

  Hope scanned arrivals, looking for Claire. She knew her mother’s plane had landed. Through coordinating schedules with Nick’s assistant, Hope had learned her mother had flatly refused to fly on Nick’s plane. But no matter which plane brought her here, Hope could only be thankful her mother was coming. But where was she?

  The minutes ticked by. One. Two.

  Five.

  Ten.

  After nearly fifteen minutes, Hope ignored the No Parking signs, shut off the SUV, and clicked the locks as she walked into the baggage area. It only took her a moment to locate her mom.

  While luggage thumped and thunked down the conveyor belt and people jockeyed for position to swipe their belongings as they glided past, Claire sat perched on a chair a distance away. She looked forlorn, seated by herself on one of the hard, black chairs that stretched the length of the room. Her wool coat (in the summer, really?) seemed too heavy for her diminutive frame—even if the weather had warranted its warmth. Her purse was perched on her lap, her hands wrapped around its hard, curved handle. A small blue suitcase was tucked in close to her leather shoes with their stubby heels.

  “Mom,” Hope said, reaching her. “Claire.” Hope wanted to throw her arms around her mother, hug her tight for this miraculous gift she was giving their family. But she knew her embrace was unwanted and might even cause more friction.

  Her mother looked drained as she stood and reached for her suitcase.

  “No, let me.” Hope picked it up. “I hope you had a nice flight.”

  “I’ve never believed there’s such a thing as a good flight. Never cared for airplanes. Just isn’t natural if you ask me.”

  Hope felt a twinge at how closely her mother’s words echoed Hope’s own thoughts about flying. “The car’s right outside. I’m sorry if you had to wait. I thought you’d walk outside after you picked up your luggage. If you had let me get you a cell phone—at least for the trip—”

  “As I explained to you and that woman that kept calling and calling, I do not care for those phones.”

  Hope knew her mother was referring to Nick’s assistant. Apparently Claire believed one telephone call to coordinate travel arrangements more than sufficed.

  Hope hit the button on the key fob that unlocked the doors as they approached the SUV. Surprisingly, she didn’t see a ticket on her windshield. Maybe this weekend was going to go o
ff more smoothly than she’d thought.

  “A bit pretentious for a schoolteacher, I think,” Claire said.

  Maybe not.

  Hope opened the passenger door and waited for her mother to get in before shutting it. She stowed the suitcase in the back, then took her place behind the wheel. As she pulled away from the curb, she wrestled with what to say. Finally, she just spoke from her heart.

  “Thank you, Mom. The sacrifices you’re making for Joshua—for our whole family—mean so very much. I know you’re probably hungry and tired, but I thought we could swing by the hospital first so you can meet the twins. My friend Dana is there with them, too. She’s looking forward to meeting you too. The cafeteria food isn’t the best, but we could all eat dinner with Joshua, which would be nice. Or, if hospital food doesn’t appeal to you,” Hope joked, but her joke fell flat, “we could either go to whatever restaurant you like or I could cook you something at home.”

  “Home?” It was the first word her mother had spoken since getting in the car.

  “Yes. I have Joshua’s room all ready for you.”

  “I told that woman who kept calling I preferred a hotel. It’s been arranged.” Her mother unclasped her purse and removed a slip of paper. In perfect penmanship her mother had written down the name of the hotel and the telephone number.

  “Yes, Evelyn had mentioned that, but I was hoping . . . I mean, I thought . . .” Hope cracked her window, needing air, but when the noise and exhaust from rush hour floated through her window, she hit the button. Silently, the window glided up. “Never mind. Of course it’s whatever you prefer. That hotel is close to the hospital, I know right where it is. We can check you in before or after we go to the hospital.”

  Her mother’s hand tightened on the handle of her purse. “Please drop me at the hotel.”

  “Drop you? But dinner and the kids—” Hope broke off when she caught her mother’s closed expression. “All right, Mom. I’ll be back in the morning at six to pick you up. I’ll be with you while you’re getting admitted, but then I’ll need to leave and be with Joshua. I’m sure you understand—”