by Melissa Kate
“What happened out there?” Brielle asked, referring to the accident.
“One of the drivers lost control and rammed a bunch of us. So much worse with F1 cars because of the speed and fuel modifications.” Nate looked pained. “My team mate wasn’t as lucky as I was… he didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry, Nate,” she touched his un-bandaged arm. “How bad is the damage?”
“To me or the car?”
“I don’t care about your car.”
“And you do about me?” he asked sarcastically. She let the comment slide because she knew that the pain must be bad. He pulled himself together then said, “Broke my clavicle and dislocated my shoulder so my arm is useless. And fractured my ankle so there’s not much to do but hop around. It’s not so bad that it’s permanent but it’s bad enough that I will miss the rest of the season.” And there it was-the reason for his crappy mood. “The doctor said it could have been worse.”
“I’m sorry, Nate,” she really felt for him and wished she knew how to comfort him but they were still virtually strangers.
“Don’t be.” He was in a very sour mood.
“Ok well, we will leave you to get some rest.”
Nate felt like a complete asshole. Brielle and Noah had come in here to make him feel better but all he did was push them away. He kept thinking of Noah’s behavior earlier. He was so withdrawn and quiet, so unlike the happy, excitable child he’d come to know. The truth had done that to him. And as much as he’d denied that he was disappointed, Nate couldn’t imagine him being anything but. He had nothing to offer, more so now than ever before. Fuck, he felt like an invalid. He couldn’t believe it. The accident kept replaying in his mind, over and over. Driving was all he’d had in life. It was who he was and now he was stuck here like a cripple! He was angry at the doctors. He was angry at the driver who’d lost control. Hell, he was even angry at his own damn body.
Fighting for so many years of his youth for a sense of control, to defeat his inner demons and master the rage and one crash set him off. How could broken bones do this to him?
Nate knew it was more than that. He’d used the speed of racing, the adrenaline rush it brought him, to evade the anger. It was a substitute for the piss-poor life he’d had before he discovered driving. It had been his wall that prevented him from remembering the past. From remembering his father’s drunken tirades. At first he’d been a quiet drunk and then he’d become angry. And when he got angry, Nate was the easiest punching bag he could find. And when Nate’s mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer, the drinking and anger got worse and then it just stopped because the SOB just up and left. He’d left a fifteen-year-old to care for his terminally ill mother, without so much as a phone call to check in.
Nate had had to get a job to support the two of them and still afford the medical expenses, but an adolescent couldn’t get a job that paid enough to cover the best medical care and she had died at home because of it. Nate had felt responsible afterward, feeling he hadn’t done enough. He’d been an angry teenager every day since then, picking fights with the biggest bullies, just itching for his fists to smash into something. He’d been angry and hurt and alone every day till the day Michael had found him and given him direction and discipline with driving. He’d been the closest thing to a father-figure that Nate had ever experienced and he’d cleaned up his act because of it.
Now over a decade of calm and dedication to putting his past behind him, was threatening to come apart because of a few fractured elements. Yes, he was pissed but he needed to pull his shit together. His father was dead, and he’d taken away any chance he’d had of closure with him. He was the reason he was sure he’d fail as a father to Noah and yet he couldn’t get closure. No, he’d taken that away from Nate when he’d died and listed him as an emergency contact. And despite all the crap he’d suffered because of his father, he’d had to bury the man. He’d had to sit through a funeral and a burial, bubbling over with anger. And he’d used that anger and channelled it into winning the formula one series that year. The same year Noah had been born.
He was jarred away from his thoughts by his buzzing cell phone. He answered absentmindedly without checking the caller ID, “Hello.”
“Hey, Champ,” Michael greeted. “How you hanging?”
“Feeling like a sack of fucking potatoes right now. One arm and one leg that are just too damn useless for their own good.”
“You’re young, Nathan. You will have more races ahead of you. Take the time to recover. Find a hobby.”
“A hobby?” Nate scoffed. “Like what? Knitting? Fuck, I can’t even do that right, my arm is so messed up.”
“Then address what you’re avoiding.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Your son.”
The awkward silence was tangible. “How do you know about that?”
“Luca told me. And before you get mad and hop over to beat on him, understand that he told me in confidence because he thought you could use an older man’s support. And old I am.”
“I don’t need the support Mike. I’m fine. I’m not a fucking woman.”
“Son, you were there when I was diagnosed with cancer all those years ago. You were there when I went through the chemo and lost my hair. Hell you were there when I puked myself time and again because of the drugs. It was a hard time for any man and you never abandoned me through that time, even up to my remission. Let me be a part of this for you, too.”
Nate was silent for a long moment before he addressed the older man. “I’m scared, Mike.” He said it barely above a whisper. “He’s shifted my whole plan. My whole focus. I almost feel like… I don’t care about driving. Driving has been all I had for so long. I can’t even imagine life without it.”
“So, what now?”
“I don’t know. How am I going to be any good to him? You should have seen his face today when he learned I was his father. He looked anxious and I feel like he’s waiting for me to fuck up his life. Look how my father fucked me up.”
“Nate, you had a shitty childhood and what your father did is not a reflection on the man you have grown into. You have the chance to get to know your son. Be the father that you never had.”
“What if I fuck up?”
“You will. You’re human. We all do. You’re a big boy, you mess up then you fix it. Stop using this as an excuse not to get to know the only blood ties you have.”
Nate felt like he’d been slapped. He’d been slapped with the truth and that harsh realism was enough to shock him back into the present. Michael was right. He needed to try with Noah. He didn’t want his child to grow up feeling the anger and resentment that he’d lived with. No, Noah deserved far better and he was going to do all in his power to make sure that he was the father that Noah needed.
CHAPTER 11
A WEEK LATER BRIELLE WAS at home, frantically calling around trying to find a babysitter. She needed to host another open house and Martha was going to be there and she just could not take Noah with her. The usual babysitter was studying for her SATs and couldn’t spare the time. Brielle completely understood but it put a great strain on her life right now.
She stood beside the phone, staring at the ceiling trying to think of who else she could call. Emma, surprisingly, was on a date and was unavailable. She had offered to cancel and take care of Noah but as desperate as Brielle was, she wasn’t selfish. Emma had sacrificed her social life so much just so that she could help with Noah and the least Brielle could do was let her have some romance, she sure as hell needed it.
“Mom,” Noah stood before her, a wary expression on his small face; his jade eyes wide.
“Yes, Lovebug?”
“My class project is due next week.”
Brielle started to panic. “What class project? Why didn’t you tell me?” She now had to think about how she was going to get home in time to h
elp him with this project. Great. This day was just getting better by the second.
“The one about careers, Mom. I told you about it two weeks ago.”
Shit. She did vaguely remember a conversation like that. Her energy levels practically drained at the realization. She needed a body-double.
The doorbell rang and she slumped at the kitchen counter as Noah went to answer the door. She needed a break. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an outing other than to the dentist or the pediatrician and that certainly didn’t count as the outing she needed. She was annoyed that Noah hadn’t reminded her about the project, too; how was she going to fit all of this into her weekend. But she had to take some blame, she should have checked up. There’d just been so much going on lately that she hadn’t been on top of things. And so much was riding on her selling this house and raking in the commission that it was starting to stress her out.
Suddenly, she realized that Noah hadn’t returned.
“Who was at the door, Sweetheart?”
In the next instant, Noah walked into the kitchen followed by Nate. He walked with a limp and his arm was in a fancy figure-eight sling but he looked sexy as sin in his jeans and button down shirt. Her nipples start to peak which just reminded her further of how long it had been since her lady parts had had any fun. And Nate was exactly the man that could show her lady parts a good time. He’d buffed up a little since the last time she had seen his naked body but from his softly flicked hair to his tight thighs to his sneakered feet, the man was undeniably gorgeous and despite their rocky past, both recent and past, he still had the ability to make her moist just by fixing his jade gaze on her. Just what she needed on top of the already stressful evening.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hey. You’re looking better,” she replied, trying to sound normal. “You feeling ok?”
“Better.”
“How did you get here? Surely you still can’t drive.” Gesturing toward his wrapped arm and shoulder, she winced as she realized how her own words sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he brushed it off. “Luca dropped me.”
“Oh ok, that’s good then. Look I don’t mean to be rude but it’s kind of a bad time right now. I need to show a house and I can’t get Noah a sitter at such short notice and I don’t have much time before I have to get going.”
“I’ll watch him.”
Brielle just stared at Nate. Was he joking? Had he ever even been around children in his life? “That’s a great offer but I don’t think-“
“I think it’s a great idea, Mom,” Noah encouraged. “I will be ok. We can just watch SpongeBob or something.”
“Have you ever taken care of a child before?” she directed at Nate.
Nate addressed Noah. “Noah, can you give your mom and me a moment to talk?”
He shrugged his little shoulders and left the room. A minute later they heard the TV tune to Nickelodeon and none other than SpongeBob himself.
“I understand your trepidation,” he started. “But Noah is my child and I want to get to know him. You’re right, I haven’t been around children and I probably am clueless but I have to start somewhere. Noah is a smart kid and he will tell me if he needs something.”
“What if something goes wrong or he gets sick or he gets sad or nervous or anxious or-“
“Then I will call you,” he interrupted. “I know you don’t know me and you don’t owe me anything but I’m asking you to have some faith in me. For Noah’s sake.”
Brielle felt cornered. He had her there. He was Noah’s father and he did have a right to get to know his son. And she could really use the help right now. She was bordering on late already and she really wanted to show Martha that she was on top of this sale.
“Ok,” she agreed.
“Ok?” he repeated incredulously as a smile reached his lips. “Great.”
“Will you manage? I mean with your being hurt.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about us. Just go and we will see you a later.”
With that he turned and left to join Noah and SpongeBob in the other room.
An hour later, Nate was wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. From the minute Brielle left, Noah had emotionally retreated and become quiet and subdued. Nate was out of his element. He’d never spent time around children before, never mind a five-year-old. They’d been flipping channels for the last twenty minutes and it was driving him nuts. He had to do something.
“Are you in school, Noah?”
“Of course I am, I’m five.” He stated as though Nate were the village idiot for even asking.
Nate felt stupid but really, how was he supposed to know that five-year-olds were part of the scholastic system. “Ok.” He wracked his brain for something to break the awkwardness. “Does anything fun happen at school?”
Noah shrugged indifferently. “Last week we let out the class gerbil and all the girls went screaming out of the room.” He grinned mischievously. That was his boy.
Nate returned the child’s grin and then realized that he probably should not be condoning that type of behavior. “Does your mom know?”
Instantly his expression sobered and he shook his head no. “Please don’t tell her.”
“I won’t,” Nate promised. “But you keep your nose clean ok? No nonsense that will get you in trouble.”
“Mom’s upset with me already.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have a project due next week and forgot to do it.” He at least had the decency to look guilty.
“Well, maybe I can help. What’s it about.”
“We have to show and tell a career.”
“Ok, what did you have in mind?”
Noah shrugged.
“Well, what would you like to be when you grow up?”
“Um, I don’t know. A pilot maybe?”
“Ok, so why don’t you show and tell that?”
He looked shy for a minute and turned away before quietly asking, “Can we do a racer?”
“A racer?”
“Like what you do.”
“You want to show and tell what I do?”
The small child nodded. “It’s ok if you don’t want to. We can do something else.”
Nate’s chest swelled with pride. Despite his absence during Noah’s early years, he still wanted to show and tell something about his father. “No, I’d love to help you with this assignment.”
Noah’s face broke into a huge grin. “Oh boy! Really?”
“Yes, but you’re going to have to do most of the work because I only have one arm.” He gestured toward his sling. The pain was starting to kick in now that the pain meds were wearing off but he didn’t want to be dosed up around his child. He needed to be alert and in a lucid state of mind should anything happen. He needed to prove to Brielle, and himself, that he could be a parent to Noah. “Do you have a car track set?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Great, go get it.”
They spent the next hour putting together the track set to simulate the Formula One race track. They had written out labels for the pit stops and pit wall and had little figures around the track indicating the race marshals and a plain car as the safety vehicle. He carefully explained the race to Noah and had him repeat it back to him so that he could present it in class.
“Great job, Noah.”
Noah again grinned with his whole face, his bright eyes sparkling emerald green.
“You look just like I did as a child, did you know that.”
Noah shook his head no.
“Well you do. I bet we could have passed as twins in our baby photos.”
“Really? Let’s see!” Noah jumped up and went into the next room. When he returned he had a thick album in his small arms.
“My baby pictures,” he stated proudly.
Noah sat close to Nate and they shared the album between them. He flipped it open and the first picture was of a young Brielle. The face was the same girl he remembered from Brazil but her belly was huge. She looked pale and tired but still managed a smile for the photographer. Nate found himself wondering who the photographer was and was surprised to be annoyed at the thought that it may be another man.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and flipped the page—pictures of the day Noah was born. Brielle was lying in a hospital bed, still in the surgical gown, with a gooey, just born Noah in her arms. She looked exhausted but the tears flowing down her cheeks were of sheer joy as she stared down at her child. The photo aptly captured the moment she became a Mother.
“That’s me,” Noah stated. “Two minutes after coming out.” He grinned again. “Mom said she was in labor for sixteen hours before I came out. I heard her tell Aunt Emma once that the drugs wore off before I came out. I don’t know what that means though.”
Ouch. Nate did know what that meant and he could only imagine what that must have been like for Brielle. He flipped through more photos and in each one he saw the same pattern. Brielle would look tired and sometimes forlorn as she looked into the camera, her smile not quite reaching her eyes but whenever her gaze was on Noah, the fatigue and all other emotions were replaced with complete and total love and devotion. The feeling was so evident in her expression. It made Nate feel both admiration and sadness for Brielle. She had faced so much on her own and had done such an amazing job in raising their son.
He looked around the house and he could clearly see that she had provided a solid, stable home for Noah. It didn’t have the lavish finishing’s that his penthouse did but she obviously sacrificed a lot to give him the best she could.
He flipped through more baby photos and as he turned more pages, he went through Noah’s lifetime. He took in cherished moments that he had missed. His first tooth, his first step, his first birthday.