“The rebound guy,” says Gayle. “That’s what this Cody is.”
“We’ve all been there,” says Joanne, with a knowing wink around the table.
“I haven’t,” says Bethany, who’s been married to her high school sweetheart since she was nineteen.
“Be grateful!” adds Gayle.
“I think I need to do something before he gets his claws too deep in those girls,” Patti says as she delicately pops a strawberry into her mouth.
“You’ve just got to let it run its course,” says Karen. “Or Amber will resent you even more than she already does.” A few of the ladies nod.
“Well . . . you could try cozying up to him,” says Gayle.
“Are you crazy?” says Bethany.
“No. Listen. Get close to the enemy. Find out his game plan. Then, beat him at his own game.” If anyone knew how to win a battle, it was Gayle.
“It’s not a bad strategy, but I don’t think it’s me,” says Patti. “I don’t have the patience or the time for his kind.”
“What about talking to Joe?” suggests Karen. “He loves those girls like they’re his own daughters. Maybe he can offer some insight.”
Patti admits it’s not a bad idea.
“And there’s one more thing. Amber’s losing the house,” Patti announces, and the ladies all stop eating and look up at her.
“Oh, Patti. That’s awful. I’m so sorry,” says Joanne.
“Is there anything we can do?” asks Bethany.
“I doubt it. She didn’t exactly offer the information to me. I found out when I saw something in her mail,” admits Patti.
“You were snooping?” says Karen.
“Not exactly.” Patti can feel the tsk-tsks.
“And you don’t understand why she’s having a hard time trusting you?” says Bethany with a wink.
Patti has always expected and depended on this kind of honesty from the group. “What if I offer to help her catch up on her mortgage and other bills?”
“How much are we talking?” asks Kim.
“Thousands,” says Patti.
“You could give her a bailout. But I’m not sure that helps her long-term,” says Gayle.
“She’ll just feel indebted to you,” says Bethany. “I don’t think that’s the kind of relationship you’re going for.”
“She’s gonna need a lot of support,” says Karen. “And if you don’t want Cody being the one to give it to her, you’ve got to find a way to make peace.”
“You just have to keep trying,” says Kim.
“That’s what Paula told me. But honestly . . . how?” She poses the question to the group.
“Babysit?” says Bethany.
“Done.”
“Invite her for dinner?” asks Kim.
“She claims she’s always working. Or too tired.”
“Coffee date?”
Patti shrugs. They run out of suggestions.
“That’s what I thought,” says Patti. “It’s impossible.”
“Well, it is with that attitude,” says Gayle, and she changes the subject to an upcoming fund-raising gala she is coordinating.
chapter forty-two
The Last Fight
ON MONDAY MORNING, Kendra Drake is about to sit down with her morning coffee and a spreadsheet when Amber bolts past her on her way to barge through Jim Wellington’s closed door.
“Mrs. Hill . . . Mrs. Hill . . . May I help you?” Kendra leaps up, spilling her coffee all over the paperwork on her desk.
Amber flashes Kendra a look of hurt and fury as her hand reaches for Jim’s doorknob. “I need to speak to Mr. Wellington.”
“Mrs. Hill. Please. You can’t go in there. He’s with someone.”
Amber steps aside, and Kendra rises from her desk. “I can try to help you.”
Amber pulls the dingy envelope from Kent’s Pawn Shop & Collectibles out of her purse and sets it on Kendra’s desk.
“He told me I’m losing my house, and I can’t. Not now.” Amber chokes back tears.
“What would you like me to do?” Kendra’s voice is unaffected, and Amber knows that it’s not her fault. But it grates on her.
“I know it’s not the full amount, but it’s everything I’ve got.”
Kendra opens the envelope and quickly does the math. “I think you’ll need to speak to Mr. Wellington about this.” She hands it back to Amber.
“What has he told you?”
How publicly mortifying will this become? Kendra must know how to read minds, because she says, “It’s my job to keep all of our clients’ business in strict confidentiality.”
At that, the door to Jim’s office opens, and he escorts a client to the door. Amber catches his eye, and he motions for her to wait. She backs down. After Jim sends his client off, he immediately turns his attention to her.
“Amber. You got my call?”
“I did.” She sees Jim’s face flood with compassion but has a hard time meeting his gaze. She hands the envelope to him. “Pay the new lender. Stop the foreclosure. Please.”
“Why don’t you come into my office? Let’s talk.” Mr. Wellington extends his arm to usher her into the frosted-glass-walled room. Amber can’t go. She can’t withstand another dead-end conversation. He’s just going to tell her that there’s no hope. She looks down at her naked ring finger. She can’t face that raw rejection right now. Amber backs toward the door. She knows she’s losing this battle. Better get out of the fight before it turns too bloody.
“Please. Just take it and do what you can,” she pleads in a quiet voice.
“Mrs. Hill. There are a few legalities I need to discuss with you in light of your situation.”
Amber shakes her head. “I’ve fought so hard.”
“It’s not the end of the world. Please. Let me help you transition through this . . .”
“I have to go . . .” Amber’s words trail off as she reels for the door. Outside, the world is nothing but a blur of sounds and colors. She stumbles along, following the sidewalk blindly right past her van . . . downtown . . . and then cutting into the neighborhood until she finds that she has walked all eleven blocks home.
chapter forty-three
Telling Bree
AMBER’S GAZE IS drawn to Matt, bathed in lamplight in front of Bree’s window. The shades are drawn on the evening, and quiet has settled over the house. Amber marvels at the inch of Matt’s stem poking through the dry topsoil. A tiny leaf is on the verge of unfurling. Look at that. She got it to sprout. Getting it to mature will be a whole different story. If Matt is to survive, he will need year-round warmth that he’s never going to see in Clarksville. And he will need a yard . . . a yard that she’ll soon be losing.
From the bathroom, Amber can hear Bree finishing up with her teeth. She pulls herself away from the plant and selects three books for bedtime. She turns back the covers on Bree’s bed as she hears the bathroom door creak open. Bree coasts into her bedroom, balancing a plastic cup filled with water for Matt.
“Did you see Matt?” Bree asks her mom, pride on her face as she gives him a drink.
“I did. Nice job, honey.”
“When he gets bigger, can we plant him in the front yard?” Bree sets the empty cup on her desk and slides into bed under the covers. Amber tucks them up under her chin.
“Which story tonight?” Amber shows her the three books she’s selected. Bree points to one. Amber cuddles up to Bree, setting the books aside for a moment.
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
“Yeah. But first, Bree, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Bree nods. “Is it serious?”
“It is.”
“Did someone die?”
“Oh. No, honey. No one died.” Amber sees the fear wash out of Bree’s eyes. “It’s different than that. We’re going to have to move soon.”
“Move where?”
“I’m not sure yet. Out of this house.”
“Far away?”
“N
o. No. We’re not moving away. We’re staying here in Clarksville.”
Bree looks relieved. She sits up, leaning on the headboard with a thoughtful expression.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“You won’t have this room anymore. Or this yard to plant Matt in.”
“I’ll have a new room?”
“Yes.”
“Will it be a big house?”
“We don’t need a lot of space for just the two of us.”
“I like that,” says Bree, with a little glow on her face.
“You do? Why?”
“Because it means we don’t have to do so many chores.”
Amber is a little surprised at how well Bree is taking this. “How do you figure that?”
“Less space to clean. More time to have fun.”
It hits Amber. Fun. When was the last time the two of them had fun together? Goofing off? Laughing? Just enjoying each other? She can’t remember.
“Can I take Matt?”
“Of course you can. So, you’re okay with moving?”
Bree doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. It’s a new adventure. And adventures are fun!”
There’s that word again. Fun. Amber turns to Bree. “We could use a little more fun here, couldn’t we?”
“Yeah.” Bree nods.
“You know what?” says Amber with a wry grin. “I have a surprise for you.”
“What?”
Amber shakes her head. “Tomorrow. You’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Noooo. Tell me now!” Bree pleads.
“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Amber tickles Bree’s belly. Bree lets out a giggle.
“Tell me now! Tell me now! Tell me now!”
“Never!” Amber tickles her again. Bree shrieks with laughter, tumbling off the bed onto a pile of pillows. Amber dives after her with tickle hands . . . and they forget all about the storybook.
chapter forty-four
The Qualifying Race
RACE NIGHT. CODY is suited up at the pit and ready to hop into his car for a couple of warm-up laps when Joe enters with a serious look. He motions to him.
“What’s up, Joe? I was about to take her for a spin.”
“Someone wants to see you.”
“Who?”
“Just come on.”
Cody follows Joe to the grandstand, up the elevator, and into an upper-level suite with a desk that overlooks the raceway.
Wow. This is the way to watch a race.
Below them, fans are filing into the stands with their colored flags, hot dogs, and bags of peanuts. On the track, engines roar as half a dozen race cars zoom by on their warm-up laps.
As they step out onto the deck, Cody immediately notices a familiar face. Gibbs. He goes weak in the knees as Joe gets Gibbs’s attention. Why didn’t he warn me!
Gibbs, a man in his sixties with sleek silver hair, a golden Florida tan, and not an ounce of body fat, turns to Cody with a bleached-white smile. He slides his sunglasses off to get a better look at Cody, who is doing his best to wipe the surprised look off his face. “Good to see you again, son.”
“You, too. Sir.” Cody shakes Gibbs’s hand and tries to calm his nerves.
“I’ve been getting a few updates from Joe here. But thought I’d come out to see your progress for myself.”
Cody’s stomach flip-flops. “That’s very generous of you. Joe’s been a great help. I’ve been working real hard.”
“That’s what Joe says.”
I sure hope so. I’ve been busting my butt for him.
“I’ve also got a little news for ya. I think I’ve found you a new sponsor.”
“Great. That’s great.” Cody looks to Joe. “You been holding out on me?”
“No. And don’t get too excited until you hear everything,” adds Joe.
“Sure. Well, who is it?”
“I can’t disclose all the details just yet, but let’s just say it’s a household name,” Gibbs tells him.
“Big money, then?”
Gibbs nods.
Yahoo! My ticket outta Clarksville.
“Don’t worry about the money. Worry about winning,” says Joe.
“I’ve had quite a time convincing them that you’re a caterpillar ready to become a butterfly,” says Gibbs. “You understand?”
“I do, sir. And I’m ready.” That flip-flop in Cody’s stomach makes another appearance.
“It’s all riding on this race, son. If you place tonight, they’ll grant you the sponsorship.”
“I see.” The nerves start to tingle up Cody’s legs.
“Do you?” asks Joe. “He means that if you don’t place, they’re going to go with another driver.”
“They like you, Cody. They want you to succeed. As do we. They’re willing to make a big investment. They just need to feel secure about it paying off.”
“I got this.” Cody looks Gibbs in the eyes.
“That’s what I need to hear. Now go get ’em.” Gibbs slips his sunglasses back on and turns to the track. “Good luck out there.”
“Thank you, sir. Don’t you worry.”
Cody feels a tug on his sleeve. Joe rushes him out of the suite to the elevators. As soon as the elevator doors touch closed, Cody explodes.
“Why would you tell me this right before the race?”
“I didn’t want you brewing in it. Gettin’ all heady about it.”
“And so this is your strategy? I’m freaking out, Joe!”
“Why? You should be thrilled.”
“Because it’s my first race back.”
“Isn’t this exactly the kind of opportunity you’ve been hoping for? Shed this Podunk town. Move into the big leagues.”
The elevator doors open and they step out, beelining for the gate that will let them back onto the field.
“Did you call him down here, Joe? Did you think this would get me to perform better?”
“You need strong motivators.” Joe flags one of the members of the safety team in an orange vest to let them through the gate. “Can we get back in, please?”
“Yes, sir. But there are still a few cars on the track. I need an all-clear from traffic control. Gimme a minute to work on that.”
“All right. All right. Just let them know I’ve got a driver out here who needs immediate access.”
“You got it, boss.” The safety in the orange vest scampers off with his walkie pressed to his mouth.
“I don’t know why you’re so nervous. All you gotta do to win is listen. To me.” Joe taps Cody’s ears for emphasis. “I’ll guide you right into first place.”
Cody is about to protest when he hears a voice at his back.
“Cody! Cody!” Cody turns and recognizes those pink tennis shoes running up.
“Hey, Bree! Great to see you!” Cody gives her a fist bump. “You come here all by yourself?”
Bree giggles and points behind her, where Amber jogs around the corner of the stands to catch up. It was amazing what a simple pair of jeans and boots did for a girl.
“Bree! I told you to . . . wait!” Cody flashes her a smile. “Oh. Thank goodness.”
“I’m so glad you guys made it,” says Joe. “I’ve saved you a special seat. Out there.”
Joe points to an RV set up in the pits.
“Wow! There’s a deck on the roof. We get to sit up way up there?” says Bree. Joe nods.
“Hey, I’m glad you’re here,” says Cody.
“Are you nervous?”
“Not an ounce.” Now that you’re here.
“Okay, Cody, I’ve been doing some research, and I have some advice for you,” says Bree.
“She’s been waiting all day to tell you this,” Amber adds.
“I’m sure it’s very important.” Cody kneels down to hear her over the crowds and engines. “Okay, shoot.”
Bree’s look turns serious as she places her hands on her hips. “Drive fast and turn left.”
“G
ot it, kiddo. Thanks.” Cody laughs and turns to Amber. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
“Thanks for inviting us. And good luck out there.” Cody can’t help but notice how soft and beautiful Amber’s blond hair looks flowing from beneath the brim of her hat.
“Thank you.” You have no idea how much I’m gonna need it.
“We’ve been given the go-ahead!” says the guy in the orange safety vest as he reappears.
“All set, Speed Racer?” says Joe.
Cody motions for Amber and Bree to follow Joe as the gate swings open.
This could be the best or worst day of my life. And everyone’s gonna have a front-row seat to see how it unfolds.
Cody sighs as he steps out onto the track and heads for his race pit. He glances back to see Amber smiling confidently at him. Above her, on the suite deck, Gibbs kicks back, sunglasses lasered in his direction.
No pressure. No pressure at all.
* * *
THE GREEN FLAG drops. Cody floors it as the ravenous pack of race cars roars down the frontstretch and into the first turn. In car number 55, he blasts past several cars, taking fourth position, and steers the car into the backstretch.
“Looks good, Jackson. Steady into the third,” Joe’s voice pipes through the headset. “Let’s try to keep all the paint on the car this time.”
“Copy that.”
Cody blasts smoothly into and out of the third and fourth turns. Perfect precision and timing. He downshifts and jams the accelerator to the floor. His car tears down the frontstretch, dead center and heading for the lead in a three-wide of racers.
“Hold that line.”
“That’s the plan.” Cody maneuvers his car to the low line into the second turn and makes an attempt for the lead. The other two drivers quickly edge him out.
Come on. I had that!
“You had that!” Joe yells.
“I know. Going again.”
“If forty-six and twenty-three don’t change position, you can slide in between them from the outside after turn two.”
Cody careens down the frontstretch as he dives into the first turn and jams the accelerator.
“Watch twenty-three! He’s squeezing past on the inside!”
Cody narrowly misses his opportunity to pass. He steadies just enough to block 23 from taking the lead.
God Bless the Broken Road Page 17