“Call him.”
“I can’t,” Indi said, knowing instantly who she referred to.
“Call him,” Linda said, using “the voice” again.
BUT WHEN SUNDAY ROLLED around, Indi still hadn’t picked up the phone. She paced around her small apartment all morning. Only later did she realize it was anxiety. She was nervous about Todd’s race, not nervous that he would win it, but nervous about his safety.
That tension only grew worse the closer it got to the green flag dropping. She found herself glued to the TV, watching the prerace shows in hopes of catching a glimpse of him.
Was he nervous? Did he feel ready to race?
Did he miss her?
The last thought was ridiculous, because, of course, he didn’t miss her. He was probably glad to be rid of her, but as the green flag dropped, she wished—oh, how she wished—she’d called him.
Instead she watched him race.
She turned down the volume again. She couldn’t take listening to the commentators downplaying his chances at winning another race. Such a feat was unheard-of, they said.
They didn’t know Todd Peters.
By lap ten he led the race. By lap twenty he was ten car lengths ahead. He drove like a man possessed, only giving up the lead twice. He took that lead back in a matter of laps. As the race neared its end, Indi found herself turning up the volume.
“…going to make history with his four wins during the Chase,” one of the announcers was saying.
“Who would have thought that Todd Peters could win a championship so decisively?” his partner responded.
“Obviously Todd did.”
“And Benjamin Koch,” the first guy said.
“Yeah, let’s not forget who Todd’s racing for. The little boy who’s so sick with leukemia. But I bet you Benjamin is bouncing in his bed right now.”
And Indi knew the announcer was right. She knew her little friend was no doubt giddy about being mentioned on TV. She knew he watched Todd make every lap. She knew that when Todd took the checkered flag, which he did, that Benjamin was no doubt delirious with joy.
Indi cried.
It was silly—after all, it was just a race—but she knew how much this meant to Todd. And Benjamin. To the whole team, really. They all wanted to win. Not for winning’s sake, but for Benjamin’s.
She went to the phone, picked it up, set it down again. Who would she call?
There was no one.
You sure don’t know how to have a life of your own.
And it was true. Sure, she had families she could call, friends she’d made through her job. But they weren’t real friends, just acquaintances. She had nobody other than Maggie, not even her sister.
Damn it.
She paced her apartment, her heart thudding against her ribs so hard it felt like she’d just run a marathon.
Call him.
Call who? she asked herself. Todd didn’t carry a cell phone in his uniform. She was pretty certain of that.
Call Jen.
Indi picked up the phone again. Todd was just pulling into Victory Lane. Indi’s fingers dialed Jen’s number by rote.
Jen answered on the second ring. Indi was so shocked she didn’t know what to say.
“Jen, it’s Indi.”
On TV she could see Todd climb out of his car.
“What?” Jen said. “Indi, speak louder. I can’t hear you.”
Of course Jen couldn’t hear her. There were thousands of screaming fans cheering Todd’s name.
“Can you give Todd a message?” Indi yelled into the phone.
And then Jen did the unthinkable. Indi saw her do it right there on television. The moment about three seconds behind the actual action. She walked into the camera’s view, tapped Todd on the shoulder and stepped in front of the trackside commentator so he couldn’t shove a microphone in Todd’s face. Then Jen handed Todd the phone.
“Who is it?” she heard him ask, and it was strange because on TV his lips hadn’t moved…yet.
Indi almost hung up.
“Indi,” she heard Jen yell.
Indi turned away from the TV.
“Hello?” came Todd’s voice a second later.
She lost her voice, had to swallow back tears. Oh, Todd. I’m so proud of you. So very, very proud of you. And so happy for you.
But all she said was, “Congratulations.”
I miss you.
“Thanks,” he said.
You sure don’t know how to have a life. “You ran a great race.”
You don’t know how to win.
“Thanks,” he said again.
You’re messing this up. Because she did want to win. As she stood there in her living room, all by herself, she realized she wanted to win Todd’s heart.
“I’m proud of you, Todd,” she said at last, her throat clogged with tears. “I really am.”
She could hear his teammates cheer. On TV a bottle of champagne was uncorked.
“Gotta go,” he said.
“Yeah, I see that. Bye, Todd. Take care.”
“You, too.”
And that was that. A few seconds later she saw him turn back to Jen, saw him hand the phone back. When he faced the cameras on TV his eyes showed no emotion.
Indi’s vision blurred. Her hands shook to the point that she had to wrap her arms around her middle to keep from sobbing.
As she listened to him give his postrace interview, Indi admitted something profound.
She’d fallen in love with Todd Peters.
Only she’d blown it on the last lap.
CHECKERED FLAG
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BENJAMIN’S HEALTH improved. Whether it was Todd officially winning the championship, or the new drugs the doctors had him taking, Indi didn’t know. She only knew that the fun-loving, wisecracking kid of old had returned.
Two weeks later, tests confirmed what they’d all begun to suspect: the kinase inhibitors had begun to work.
But it wasn’t until a few days before the NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Series awards ceremony that they knew for a fact he was on his way to remission. The damaged genes causing his leukemia were being reprogrammed, and though it would be several years before they could officially label him “cured,” the prognosis was good.
November passed, Indi spending the Thanksgiving holiday with the Koches. Benjamin had been allowed to go home so he was in high spirits and he wheeled himself around the Koches’ spacious adobe-style home nestled in San Jose’s east foothills, Lex following him wherever he went. The day had dawned unseasonably warm, one of those fall days where leaves floated to the ground on a soft breeze and the sky was so clear you could see a sliver of moon hanging in it.
“I’m so glad you could come over,” Linda said.
Indi turned away from the window she’d been looking out of. Art and Linda’s home overlooked the Bay Area, their dining-room window offering an unobstructed view of the south end of the San Francisco Bay.
“I’m glad I could make it,” she said, glancing down at the table Linda had lovingly decorated with gourds, dried corn and a ceramic turkey just about the size of a real one. Fine china plates dotted the surface of a table covered by a beige cloth. It all looked so beautiful.
“Indi,” Linda said, slipping a gold ring over an off-white napkin. “I know this is a sore subject, but have you talked to Todd lately?”
Indi, who’d been reaching for a napkin ring so she could help, froze. “Ah, no,” she said. “Not since he won his last race.”
Linda nodded, picked up another ring. “Have you thought about calling him?”
“No,” Indi said, the gold metal ring cold in her hands. “I think it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me again.”
“What makes you say that?”
Indi glanced down. She could see the reflection of the light fixture that hung over the table in the smooth, metal surface. “He barely said two words to me on the phone.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly
call him at a good time.”
“I didn’t call him. I called Jen. She’s the one who handed the phone to Todd.”
“And you expected him to pour his heart out to you on national TV.”
“No.” Yes. Lord, she didn’t know what she’d expected. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
“It doesn’t matter,” Indi said, sliding the ring on the napkin. “It’s over.” Thanks to her own cowardness.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“What do you mean?”
Linda left the room. When she came back, she handed Indi an envelope.
“What’s this?” Indi asked, peeking inside.
“Confirmation that we’re on the list of confirmed attendees for the NASCAR NEXTEL Cup year-end awards ceremony.”
“Neat.”
“There are three names on that list. Benjamin, Art and me. Art’s not going.”
“He’s not? That’s too bad.”
“You’re going instead.”
Indi almost dropped a napkin ring. “Oh, Linda. No. I can’t.”
“You can and you are,” she said.
“No. Really—”
“Indi Wilcox. I haven’t watched my son fight for his life just to stand around and watch life pass me by. Or pass you by, as the case may be. Our time on this earth is too short. If your job at Miracles has taught you one thing, surely it’s that.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You’re going,” Linda said, her words more strident than Indi had ever heard. “This is your last chance, Indi. Your last time to tell Todd exactly how you feel.”
“I don’t feel anything.”
“Liar. You love him.”
“Linda—”
“You love him and I’m not going to let you ruin it out of some stupid sense of obligation to your job.” Linda moved to Indi’s side, placed her hands on her shoulders. “I owe you so much,” Linda said, as for the first time in weeks, Indi saw tears come to Linda’s eyes. “If not for you, Benjamin would never have met Todd. And if he hadn’t met Todd, we might never have heard about the clinical trial for that new drug. Because of you I have my son back, for however long that might be. Come with me to New York. Please.”
It was one of those moments where her life could go either way, Indi knew. If she stayed in the Bay Area, who knew what would happen? But if she went to New York…
She might end up a winner after all.
“ALL RIGHT,” Jen said from behind Todd. “I’ve got you sitting next to Mr. Knight. Next to him will be Kristen, and beyond that Dan, Ralph…”
Jen’s words faded away. Todd stared out at the Manhattan skyline visible outside the glass elevator. On the street below, NASCAR fans lined the sidewalks, one of his cars clearly visible with its orange number eighty-two on the roof.
“You okay with that?” Jen said.
“Mmm?” Todd asked, turning back to his PR rep who stared at him impatiently. “Am I okay with what?”
“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” she asked, the elevator stopping at a floor. Todd smiled when a crew member from another team entered the car. He looked as uncomfortable as Todd felt in his tuxedo.
“Congratulations,” the burly guy said.
“Thanks.”
“Have you been listening?” Jen asked, her voice lowered.
Actually, he hadn’t. He’d been thinking about Indi. About how she’d called him that day in Victory Lane. About how sincere she’d sounded when she’d congratulated him. And how hard he’d had to work to keep his voice carefully neutral.
“I was thinking about my speech,” Todd improvised.
Jen nodded. “Do you have it with you?”
“Yup,” Todd said. “It’s up here.” He tapped his head.
“Uh-oh,” Jen said right as the elevator doors slid open. The lobby spread out before them. Christmas lights twinkled from the potted plants that lined the walls and support columns. The lobby was dimly lit and lushly decorated with huge poinsettias and multicolored glass bulbs hanging from every available surface. Christmas was in the air, at least in New York. Todd wondered why the thought depressed him when usually it was his favorite time of year. His mom and dad always made it into a big production, and this year he had more to celebrate than most years.
Speaking of his mom and dad, they would both be here tonight, along with one of his sisters. The other two couldn’t make it because they had kids in school. But he knew they’d be watching at home.
“Congratulations,” someone else called.
Todd lifted a hand. This year, the awards ceremony would be held in a ground-level ballroom located near the back of the hotel. That meant he had to cross the lobby to get to it. Race fans stood behind a roped-off area, the entire crowd erupting into cheers when they saw him.
“From bad boy to NASCAR angel,” Jen whispered in his ear. “You and Benjamin have really touched the fans’ hearts, Todd.”
“Where is Benjamin?”
“He’s inside,” Jen said as they rounded a corner and walked down a long corridor after passing through a makeshift security station. They hadn’t even asked for his ID.
“What table is he at?” Todd asked.
“He’s near the front. Sitting with your parents and sister.”
Todd nodded. Good. He’d been so busy with pre-ceremony interviews he hadn’t had time to see the boy, although he’d talked to him on the phone.
And he sounded so much better, Todd thought. Thank God for that.
The names of meeting rooms were above the doors, but one could plainly see that the room at the end of the hall was where they needed to go. The double doors were wide open, spectacularly dressed people lounging around outside. He saw a few of his fellow drivers, drinks in hand, more than one of them saluting him.
This was it. His night. His time to shine.
Enjoy it, Todd.
“Everyone should be taking their seats pretty soon,” Jen said. “You can go on inside. Just be at the head table in no less than fifteen minutes.”
Had they cut it that short? Apparently so. But no matter. He wasn’t much in the mood for talking, although it was good to see his mom and dad sitting so proudly near the front of the stage, a beaming Benjamin by his father’s side. Linda sat next to her son, the seat next to her empty.
“The man of the hour,” his dad said. Was Todd mistaken or did he see tears in his old man’s eyes? It was hard to tell. William Peters had never been the demonstrative type. When Todd had been growing up and racing go-karts, all he’d ever get in the winner’s circle was a quick hug and a pat on the back. Tonight his father just about cut his breath off when he hugged him.
“Jeez, Dad.”
When Todd leaned back, his father stared across at him through eyes gone misty with tears. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.
“Thanks,” Todd said, wondering why the words pricked at his insides.
I’m so proud of you.
Indi had said the same thing to him in Homestead.
“What about me?” his mom said. “Do I get a hug?”
“Mom,” Todd said. “You look great.”
And she did. One thing about his mom, she had class. Tonight she wore a sparkling black gown that hugged her trim figure, her gray hair shortly cropped, as it always was, her jewelry discreetly elegant.
Mom would probably approve of Indi.
His sister demanded his attention next, but not for long, because Benjamin was the star of the table.
“Where’s Art?” Todd asked after playfully pinching Benjamin’s cheek. The kid’s hair had started to grow back. Look at that.
“He couldn’t make it,” Linda said, her eyes momentarily dimming.
“You going up?” Dan said, coming up behind him and clapping him on the back. He referred to the table set up on the left of the stage. “They’re telling us to take our seats.”
“I’ll go on up if you will,” Todd said,
“Let’s go.”
He waved goodbye.
Todd glanced around the room as he climbed the stairs in front of the stage. The room was dimly lit, but the round tables sparkled. His fellow drivers were trickling in from outside. The light fixture overhead arched off the sequins on the ladies’ gowns and caused them to twinkle. Cameras were discreetly placed around the edge of the room. Tonight’s ceremony would be broadcast live. Todd paused on the top step. Behind the podium sat the championship trophy. It stood on a pedestal all on its own, the projection screen above it shedding light onto its surface so that it glowed.
He’d waited years for this championship.
Then why did he feel so empty?
“Here we go,” Dan said, unbuttoning his tux as they took a seat.
“Yup. Here we go.”
And so the night began. Todd sat through the endless speeches, dinner, and then the main presentation. He just about melted beneath the spotlights that were switched on once they started broadcasting. The other nine drivers who made the top ten were introduced one after the other. And then it was his turn.
The audience came to their feet, applauding when his name was announced as this year’s champion. He hardly noticed. He headed straight for the podium and stared out at the audience.
And saw Indi.
She stood next to Linda, her palms seeming to come together in slow motion.
Indi.
The smile she gave him was tender, the look in her eyes causing him to stand up straighter, to swell with pride. How had he not noticed her arrival? Why hadn’t she told him she was coming. Now he understood the empty seat next to Linda.
Linda beamed up at him, too. The whole table beamed, more than one pair of eyes filled with tears. Benjamin, however, just clapped. Energetically, enthusiastically clapped.
Todd felt his heart tip over. He clutched the edge of the podium and struggled for a moment with his breathing. What did he say? Suddenly his mind went blank.
He looked into Indi’s eyes.
And he knew exactly what to say.
He lifted his hands. The audience quieted and took their seats. Todd breathed deeply, swallowed, then took another deep breath because suddenly he was all choked up.
“I used to think that winning the championship meant everything,” he began. “A few years back, that’s all I wanted.” He glanced back at his teammates, at Mathew Knight and Kristen and Dan. “Last year, thanks to a new owner, I learned that winning takes a group effort. This year, thanks to one very special little boy, I learned that winning isn’t everything.”
Total Control Page 22