by Amy Gallow
"Nowhere, it seems."
Her fingers encountered the raised edge of a cut on his back and her eyes opened when he flinched. “What's this?"
"I scraped myself on the pier."
"Let me see.” Sleep was forgotten as she sat up, one hand on his shoulder to turn him away and lift the bandage clear.
His back wasn't pretty, deep scratches crusted with dried blood, the skin inflamed around them, ran from his right shoulder to just above the waist.
"You can't ride like this!"
Silence.
She turned him back to see his face. It was composed, resolute, unyielding, the smile gone. “I have no choice.” His voice was calm. He wasn't arguing, or trying to convince her. He was stating a fact.
Lexie's happiness fled. Nothing had changed!
A gentle tapping on the door panel interrupted and Glenn took advantage of it. “Yes?"
"It's me, Raul,” the familiar voice came. “I've freshly brewed coffee and croissants."
"Coming.” Glenn sounded relieved.
Lexie fled to the bathroom and donned the second bathrobe.
"Salvatore called the Douglas home.” Raul came in pushing a tray mobile. “I doubted either of you would think of it. He insisted. I think he wanted to speak to your parents.” He nodded to Lexie as she rejoined them. “I know he wants to speak to you later. Insisted I give him your cell phone number."
"Have you seen his back?” She had no time for small talk. “He can't possibly ride!"
"Were it in my power, I'd insist he didn't.” Raul understood.
"Who can stop him?"
"Salvatore."
"What's his number? I'll call him.” Lexie's face was set, determined. “This is all nonsense."
Glenn ignored the exchange, pouring three cups of coffee, adding milk and sugar, and stirring each. He made no response to Raul's inquiring glance, so his friend selected a speed dial option on his cell phone, triggered it and handed the device to Lexie.
She put it to her ear and listened to the distant electronic devices switching through to the Italian hospital. “Ciao. Signor Salvatore Bagnelli?” she asked when a peremptory female voice responded.
A flood of excited Italian defeated her language skills and she tried again, speaking slow careful Italian. Another incomprehensible flood and Lexie surrendered the cell phone to Raul.
He cut the speaker off in mid-sentence, barking words into the phone until the tinny voice quieted and Raul listened. “Have him call her when he wakes,” he said, in English for Lexie's benefit, and reinforced it in Italian for the woman at the other end.
The call over, he turned to Lexie. “Maria is a little tired. She gets flustered when she hears a strange voice."
"I'm sorry.” She was, for Maria, but not for the two men in front of her. “Have a look at his back."
"May I?” Raul was asking Glenn.
"They gave me shots last night at the hospital,” Glenn said, easing out of his pajama jacket. “It should heal quickly."
"Eventually.” Raul stepped closer to examine the injury and Lexie saw the flesh quiver at the light touch of his fingers. “They'd understand."
"Probably, but I wouldn't and they don't like being compromised."
Excluded from the conversation as completely as if she'd been in another room, Lexie snatched up her clothes and retreated to the bathroom. She wept as she dressed, the euphoria of her lovemaking dispelled.
Glenn and Raul were seated when she emerged, the former with his coffee cup to his lips.
"Kill yourself, you stupid bastard! You don't need my help!” she said, and stormed out the door, ignoring his strangled yelp as coffee spilled into his lap.
Raul called her name, but she kept going.
For the second time in twelve hours, her mother was waiting, alerted this time by a phone call from the Continental. “What's happened?"
"He's hurt himself and he's still going to ride!” Lexie's words were close to a wail of despair
"How bad is it?"
"He got thrown against the piling getting Harry out of the water and the mussels cut though his shirt. He's scratched from shoulder to hip and it looks infected. His flesh jumps if you touch it."
"What did the hospital say?” Sandra was making Lexie think rather than react by leading her through a logical sequence.
"He said they cleaned it and gave him some injections."
"Kieran will find out from Jack Welch what they did and what they think of his injuries. Lionel and Judy will want to know. Come in and meet them while I get your Dad organized."
"Oh, God! I'd forgotten them."
Sandra smiled. “They're just what you'd expect; very nice people. You'll like them."
Lexie was aghast. “Let me fix my hair at least.” She turned towards her room. “I'll come as soon as I can.” She fled.
"I'll let them know.” Sandra let her go.
Switching on the radio as she entered the room was done without thought, a childhood habit resurrected by familiar surroundings, and the announcer's voice burbled away unnoted until he reached the weather forecast. “A perfect day for the big race.” The subject trapped Lexie's attention. “Local interest hasn't been this high since Mick Doohan claimed pole position in the late Nineties. Let's hope our homegrown hero can go on and claim the title, as Doohan did in ‘98."
"Damn!” she swore and switched him off. “I don't need reminding."
She was angry. Her mother's pragmatism had shamed her. Had she the power, she'd have looped back through time and changed her actions, but she couldn't. It was nine o'clock. In another six hours, Glenn would be on the starting grid ... about to risk his life with her angry words ringing in his ears. She had to make amends!
His parents first...
The distraction got her through the business of showering without the pain of Glenn's absence overwhelming her. He was everywhere with her, a million reminders lying in ambush to trap her attention.
Worse, her new self-knowledge illuminated dozens of small moments she'd noted without understanding, passing them by in ignorance. Looking back, she felt shamed by the narrowness of her perceptions.
She'd start making it up to him today.
Energized by the decision, Lexie bustled through the business of dressing. They would be in the kitchen.
No one meeting the Smallwoods would doubt Glenn's parentage. He carried them both in his appearance and in his actions. From Lionel came the penetrating look of inquiry and from Judy, the gentle self-knowledge. Lionel was fairer, Judy was darker, but Glenn was an unmistakable blend of both.
"You must be Lexie.” Judy's eyes measured her reaction. “Glenn's descriptive powers have improved."
Lionel Smallwood's nod was positive, grey eyes smiling. “He said you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. I can see his justification."
"Have you spoken to him this morning?” Lexie needed to know.
Lionel smiled. “I think you're being more sensible than he is.” Judy nodded her agreement.
"It doesn't feel that way."
"Never does,” Lionel agreed.
It was amazing. Two exchanges, a score of words, and she felt totally comfortable with the two people she'd dreaded meeting.
"Jack's just called back. He'll insist the doctor checks Glenn before he goes to the track,” Kieran rumbled as he entered the kitchen. “He'll make it official."
Lexie was aware of Judy's eyes studying her.
"Keep an open mind. Glenn generally makes the right decision, even if he sometimes arrives there by a different route.” Lexie had the feeling Judy was unimpressed by their efforts to manipulate Glenn and was warning her not to be disappointed when they failed.
Until now, Lexie had operated on the assumption that she was, at least, the mental and moral equal to the people around her. Events had shown otherwise, revealing her claims to maturity as the sham they were. She felt dwarfed, facing uncomfortable truths with nothing to protect her. Worse, she sensed Glenn's pa
rents understood enough to sympathize, each differently.
Lionel had dealt with too many troubled souls to expect to know all the details or command universal success. Pragmatic, he conceded responsibility, provided opportunities, and then gave support. Judy trusted her son implicitly, any failures forgotten, and recommended the same by example.
Lexie felt small.
"I'll tell Glenn you're here.” She was announcing her intention to return to the hotel and it was received with nods of approval from four heads.
"It will be a busy morning for you both. We'll see him at the track.” Judy crossed the room and gave Lexie a welcoming hug. An accolade.
The walk back to the Continental felt long. She made it head down and deep in thought. There was a ticking clock sensation inside her head, as if time were slipping through her fingers. Hardly surprising, the race began at three o'clock and she was terrified.
Yet, she must accept Glenn's choice. It seemed madness, but it was going to happen. He would put his life in the hands of the unknown designer of the Widow-Maker's suspension. Her only option was to support him, helping any way she could until the matter was out of her hands.
It felt wrong ... playing second fiddle.
She'd never done it before.
"Lexie!” She turned at the sound of Craig Doherty's voice. “Wait. I want to speak to you."
He crossed the road, slipping between vehicles in the constant stream making their way to the track. “How's Glenn?"
Lexie paused. Glenn wouldn't want his injury broadcast, nor would he want Craig Doherty to feel guilty. “Getting ready for the race.” It was the truth.
"Wish him luck. He deserves it."
"I will."
He smiled and turned away. Lexie watched him cross the road again, an odd jauntiness in his stride, as if someone had lifted a weight from his shoulders. There were things happening she didn't understand. Too many things to be just coincidences!
Her father, Raul, Glenn's mother, even Glenn himself, had all done or said things, either slightly off-key, or suggesting prior knowledge of some future development. Most had slipped past her unremarked at the time, but she was now wary. Worse, was the suspicion that they'd expected her to understand ... and she hadn't.
Lexie turned away from the Continental and crossed the road herself, heading for the park opposite. She had to think.
Glenn first. Twice he'd touched her lips with his finger, enjoining silence, rather than make the obvious replies. Did that make the replies less obvious? Had he not wanted to lie? What was he concealing?
Her father had warned against hasty decisions and the context had been her sending Glenn from the house after her terror at the track and the confirmation Glenn's riding career had been revitalized.
Raul had questioned someone's understanding this morning and Glenn had worried about them being compromised.
Judy had warned that Glenn's methods were not always direct and the way he'd maneuvered the Rider's Association left little doubt she was right.
The Japanese were a factor. They'd intervened when the riders had wanted to bar Glenn from the track before his record breaking ride on the Widow-Maker ... before any indication he was capable of a record ride? Were they more interested in the bike than the man? If so, why the fiction of the riding contract?
Too many questions ... too few answers!
The others had guessed the truth, whatever it was, because Glenn would not have told them without taking her into his confidence as well. She smiled at how easily she excused Glenn, her earlier admission of his deviousness swamped, but, if others could guess, she should be able to do the same.
What was there about the bike the Japanese would want kept secret? The details of the suspension were common knowledge through the approval process and Glenn had referred to the mysterious ‘someone’ as ‘being compromised.’ If that someone were the Japanese, why would they feel compromised by Glenn failing to ride ... unless it made others question the offer of a riding contract?
Lexie sighed. She was so desperate to prove the riding contract was a sham she'd constructed a house of cards from nothing and made it seem real.
It wasn't.
For the next year, Glenn would risk his life daily, the odds shortening every time and she would watch from the sidelines, waiting for the inevitable mistake to take him from her. If nothing else, last night proved she couldn't step away.
Like it or not, she was committed!
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 11
"Hi.” Glenn opened his door and stepped back so she could enter. “You're back."
"Yes."
Hardly scintillating repartee, but he solved their dilemma by opening his arms and Lexie stepped into his embrace.
"You made me angry."
He silenced her with a kiss and conversation became superfluous.
"You're just in time to drive him to the hospital.” Raul was still there. “The doctor wants to check his back. The track officials insisted when they saw the police report."
Jack Welch had moved fast, but Lexie had no hope it would make a difference. Glenn had surmounted greater obstacles already. “Is there an appointment ... or do we just turn up?"
"Just turn up.” Raul's face reflected the lack of hope in her eyes. “I'll meet you at the track. Look after him."
"I will.” Lexie gave him a hug as he passed.
Glenn watched them, the corner of his mouth quirked, inviting a smile. “I've seen happier faces at a funeral."
"We're getting in practice for after you've killed yourself.” Lexie might be committed to this madness, but she wouldn't accept it meekly. Glenn had become too used to acting unchallenged.
"Then I'd better make the most of the time I have left.” Glenn was grinning at her, pleased by her fire, but Lexie sensed an element of calculation in his manner. She'd changed the situation and he was reconsidering his plans.
"Let me have a look at your back. I want to see it for myself."
"Raul's put a fresh dressing on it. You can watch when the doctor examines it.” He wasn't being evasive, just practical and her sense he was pleased remained. It was as if he'd stepped away a little to allow her to walk by his side ... granting her equality rather than protection. In such a master of subtlety, it was undoubtedly deliberate.
She decided to test it. “Is there something you can't tell me?"
He'd expected the question and was measuring her readiness before responding.
"Not yet."
"Have you told anyone else?"
Another long pause for consideration.
"Some have made guesses."
Lexie waited to see if he would continue, but all he did was touch her lips with his finger, silencing further questions.
"Your reasons better be good."
He nodded, allowing her to take what inferences she chose. Equality had its price.
"Let's get the doctor out of the way and I'll take you to the track.” He was in team overalls. “Unless you want to call in at home to see your parents?"
"I'll see them at the track.” He turned to the bed and picked up a sports bag emblazoned with the Bagnelli logo. “Lead the way."
* * * *
The doctor showed them into a consulting suite and a nurse followed with a trolley. They helped Glenn out of his overalls and he sat on the examination table facing away as they removed the temporary dressing and examined his back. The doctor took his time and made the odd non-committal noise. “You intend to race this afternoon?” It wasn't quite a question, more a confirmation of the situation and Glenn merely nodded.
"Then all I can do is make you comfortable. The scratches are all superficial and the injections last night should deal with any complications.” He turned to the nurse. “Cover it with Jelonet and a sterile dressing held in place with an adhesive elastic bandage. Make sure it doesn't restrict his movement.” An inquiring look at Glenn was rewarded with another nod. “If I thought you'd be sensible, I'd rec
ommend not riding for a few days.” He shook his head. “As it is, I'll ring the track and confirm you're cleared for this afternoon.” He was a young man with no illusions.
Lexie helped where she could and then watched as Glenn tested the arrangement for restrictions before climbing back into his overalls. It felt surreal. Part of her wanted to scream and rage against the inevitability of where this was leading, but the rest was concerned with easing Glenn's path towards the race, knowing she could change nothing. She thanked the nurse, nodded to the doctor when they passed him in the hallway, and dealt with the receptionist as if she were grateful for their assistance.
"The track?” They'd reached the station wagon.
Glenn checked the time. “I suppose so.” He seemed reluctant.
"We could go back to the Penguin Parade and sit in the sun for a while?” Lexie didn't expect him to agree, but she didn't want to share him with anyone either. At the track, there'd be others demanding his attention and she wasn't ready for it ... not yet.
He considered her proposal long enough to raise her hopes and then nodded. “I'll ring Angela. She needs to know where we are."
Lexie opened the passenger door and saw him seated, noting how gingerly he lowered himself to the seat. She had to bite her lip to hold in the obvious comment. It was pointless. By the time she'd seated herself he was talking to Angela.
"We'll be there in time for the parade.” He listened, frowning a little. “Yes. I'm all right. The doctor will give the all clear when he rings them."
He sat, staring into nothing, when he ended the call and started at Lexie's question. “The Penguin Parade?"
"Sounds good.” He smiled and looked so vulnerable Lexie felt the fear inside her thaw.
"You really have to do this, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Then sit still and let me kiss you properly.” She knelt on the driver's seat and leant across so their lips met, one hand taking her weight on the passenger-side armrest.
It began gently, but went ballistic before either of them were prepared and Lexie abandoned all pretence of self-control, moaning her need as his arms took over the job of support and held her close.