Start Your Engines

by Jim Cangany

  She headed for the door. When it was open, she turned back to him. “Gabrielle never quit on you. Why should you quit on her?”

  The door clicked shut, once again leaving Brad alone.

  “I give up.” He threw up his arms as he looked at the door. It wasn’t like he’d never been in a relationship before, after all. One thing he’d learned was that when things were at an end, it didn’t do anybody favors to prolong the inevitable.

  And Gabrielle leaving for Europe was inevitable. The team couldn’t afford a competitive counter offer. He’d run the numbers and even put together a proposal but, after looking it over, he’d thrown it in the recycle bin. He wouldn’t insult Gabrielle by making an inferior offer.

  It was over.

  They’d had a great run, but it would be selfish to ask her to stay. If he did that, all he’d accomplish would be to put her in an awkward position of having to turn him down. She’d done too much for him. He couldn’t put her through that.

  Maybe I should get a pet. A turtle would be good. It couldn’t be hard to care for, and they lived a long time, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being abandoned again. And if it tried to escape? He was pretty sure he could catch it before it got very far.

  The thought gave him an idea, so he grabbed his art supplies and hurried out the door.

  A few minutes later, he was seated at the end of the dock. The pond was home to a few turtles that usually hung out near the cattails that ran along its eastern edge. If he was lucky, he’d see one and could use it as a guide for a new sketch. If not, he could always try drawing one from memory.

  The water shimmered in the late August evening as ripples from a breeze created tiny flashes of blinding light, like diamonds in a jewelry store. Brad sucked in all the air his lungs could take. It was fresh and clean and a welcome change from the fuel and oil his nostrils were used to smelling.

  A rustling accompanied by the waving of a few of the cattails prompted him to get his mini-binoculars out of his supply bag. He focused in on the area and hit the jackpot. A snapping turtle had climbed onto the branch of a submerged tree, probably to get a final dose of the warm sunshine before night fell.

  Brad took a picture. He preferred to work from memory, but it couldn’t hurt to have something to use for reference later in the process.

  After a few snaps, he broke out the sketchpad. He was debating whether to do a wide-angle sketch or a close-up when he realized he hadn’t done any sketching in at least a month. For years, his drawing sessions had been his therapy. He couldn’t go longer than a week without working on a new project. In fact, the two times he’d tried to set his sketching aside, he’d descended into a black hole of depression. And now he’d gone weeks without a single pencil stroke and felt better than ever.

  If he didn’t think about Gabrielle leaving, that was.

  “Get a grip, dude.” He shoved the depressing thought aside and immersed himself in his artwork.

  He was filling in a couple of cattails when a bloop in the water to his left caught his attention. A second bloop, this time to his right, got him to put down his pencil.

  When he turned abound, a vision from heaven left him stunned.

  • • •

  “Mind if I join you?” Gabrielle let the pebbles remaining in her hand fall to the ground. “If I’m not disturbing you, I mean.” She’d been watching Brad work for at least five minutes, her insides a roiling stew of mixed emotions.

  She was proud she’d been able to help him come to terms with the crash and begin to deal with a decade’s worth of unresolved emotional turmoil. She was overjoyed she’d been able to repair their friendship. And then some.

  At the same time, she was heartbroken she’d be saying good-bye in a few weeks. And she couldn’t deny she was a little ticked off at Brad’s lack of interest in getting her to stay.

  He flipped his sketchpad closed as he waved her over. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He was smiling but, even in the darkening evening, his cheeks were pink, as if he was hiding something.

  “You. I wanted to see you, to talk and spend some time together.” Here goes. “Unless you don’t want that.”

  “Not at all.” He offered her the chair while he shoved his art supplies into a weather-beaten, canvas messenger bag.

  She declined his offer, slipped out of her sandals, and sat on the end of the dock to let her feet dangle in the water. The cool water was soothing, both to her feet and to her soul. “I’m going to miss this place. A lot of good memories, both old ones and new ones.”

  “Same here. Of course, you don’t have to go. You could always stay with Gale Force and visit as much as you like.”

  Gabrielle’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you serious?”

  “I wish.” He ran his fingers through his spiky brown hair. “It would be awesome if you didn’t have to go, but . . . ” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “This is the kind of opportunity drivers dream about. You’re going to be traveling all over the world, racing in exotic locations, staying in accommodations a lot fancier than we could ever afford.” He sat next to her. “I’m going to miss you a ton. But I envy you, too.”

  “How so?”

  “You didn’t let the crash ruin your life. Instead of hiding with a sketchpad and pouting, you faced your problems and dealt with them. Now, look at you. Two wins this year and the glamour and riches of A-1 calling.”

  “Being a little hard on yourself, don’t you think? I’ve never heard of a race-car driver coming back from hip replacement surgery. Have you?”

  Brad drummed his fingers on the dock. With a sigh, he got up, went to the other end of the dock and came back.

  “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anybody else. When I got home after the rehab stay, my old boss paid me a visit. He told me if I could get in racing shape by the end of the year, he’d get me a test to see how I could do in a car.”

  “What happened?”

  “I worked my butt off for a few months, but after a while, my workouts began to tail off. I told myself I was pushing myself too hard.”

  “But?”

  “To make a long story short, I got scared. I couldn’t face the possibility of getting in that car and not being able to do it, so I called him and told him my rehab wasn’t coming along well enough.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I couldn’t even tell the truth.”

  “You were only twenty.”

  “Twenty, thirty, it doesn’t matter. What matters is I quit, and look where I am. You didn’t, and look where you’re going.”

  Gabrielle got up to face him eye to eye. “You are the director of a team in contention for the Continental Series Championship, a team that’s moving up to Open Wheel Racing’s International Series next year. If you think you’re a failure, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that you deserve this chance with Jensen. You deserve better . . . than a broken down, has-been like me. You’ve made me a better man than I ever thought possible. I’m going to miss you so much, it hurts to even think about it, but you deserve better than me.” He shrugged his bag over his shoulder. “Good night, Gabrielle.”

  He left her, accompanied only by the lamp, the fireflies, and the first star to appear in the darkening sky. She dropped back onto the dock and kicked at the water.

  And started to cry.

  The thought of a future without Brad made her heart ache. The logic he’d used made her mad, because, by all normal standards, he was right.

  But they didn’t live in a normal world. They lived in a world where just doing your job could cost you your life in the blink of an eye. It was a world where the carpe diem approach to life wasn’t just a motto. It was real.

  Where did that leave her? If she seized the dream, she’d have status, wealth, and everything she’d dreamt of as a race-car driver. Well, not really. She wouldn’t have Brad.

  She’d also have a big chance of finding herself in over her head
and failing miserably. She wouldn’t be the first American driver to wash out of the A-1 Circuit, and she wouldn’t be the last.

  She’d be the first woman, though. And as the first woman, she couldn’t fail. She wouldn’t allow herself to fail.

  A little while later, Gabrielle was sipping an herbal tea and studying a draft contract Meg had sent her when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

  Helen stepped in with a plate of warm sugar cookies, Gabrielle’s favorite guilty pleasure by a mile.

  “I thought you could use a little pick me up.” When Gabrielle raised her eyebrows, Helen tapped her temple. “You learn a few things when you’ve been a mother as long as I’ve been. What’s bothering you?”

  Your son just told me it’s over? Yeah, Helen was massively cool, but throwing her son under the bus probably wasn’t the best approach.

  “This contract is overwhelming, and Megan wants my proposed changes back to her before we leave for Wine Country.”

  Helen put her hands on her hips. “Good try. I appreciate your attempt at discretion, but I know when someone’s lying to me.”

  Gabrielle took a bite of a cookie and savored the sweetness as it melted in her mouth. Helen Thomas’s cookies had been among the highlights of her stay. She couldn’t lie to the woman now.

  “I’ve met all the goals I had when I came back to America. Signing the deal should be a no-brainer. So why am I conflicted?”

  “I think you’re stuck. On the one hand, if you take the job, you’ll be forced to give up some things, and people, that are special to you. On the other hand, if you turn it down, you’ll be giving up financial security and a similar offer may never come again. Am I on the right track?”

  “More or less.” Bull’s-eye, actually.

  “Let me ask you this. If you go and things don’t work out, what’s the worst that can happen? You come home and resume your career stateside, with a nice nest egg in the bank. Is that so bad?”

  “No, but what if . . . ” She shrugged, unable to finish the thought out loud.

  What if she went to Europe, and while she was gone, Brad fell apart again? Or she fell apart again? They’d come so far. As a team. Where was their checkered flag? Didn’t they deserve to reach the finish line together?

  Chapter Twenty

  “You ready to do this thing?”

  Brad looked from his computer to Scott. “I’m totally ready. I hate that this means the season’s coming to an end, though. It’s been a pretty wild ride, hasn’t it?”

  It had been a mere thirteen months since Brad made that first call to Barbara to pitch his crazy idea to her. Now, here they were, with a chance to win the championship. It was the longest of long-shot chances, but he’d become quite comfortable facing, and beating, the odds.

  “Dude.” Scott slapped him on the back. “I don’t think wild comes close to how crazy this ride’s been. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  “Same here.” He rubbed his hip as he stood. “Let’s go put Racer Girl Number One on the pole.”

  The first qualifying session flew by almost as fast as Gabrielle’s car, and she advanced to the top half in strong, if not dominating, fashion. While they regrouped before the final session, Brad huddled with Scott and Gabrielle.

  “My gut tells me Chas will do what he can to slow you down out there.” Brad didn’t need to say more.

  They knew if Gabrielle didn’t win the pole, and the bonus points that went with it, all Chas needed to do to win the championship was finish in the top fifteen. And there were only eighteen cars in the field.

  “Don’t change a thing.” Gabrielle had a look in her eye that could have melted steel. “I’m not going to let him play head games with us. The car’s plenty fast. You’ve done your job. Now I’ll do mine.”

  She grabbed her helmet and gave each crew member a high five on her way to the car. Instead of getting in, she put a hand on the wing and looked down pit lane toward the Thornton Industries car. Like a bird of prey, she didn’t move a muscle during the sixty seconds of her stare-down. Then she pointed toward the scoring pylon.

  “Looks like she wants to play some head games with Chas.” Scott rubbed his hands together. “The plot thickens. Come on, man. This should be fun.”

  The next few minutes were the longest in Brad’s life and made all of his surgeries, rehab sessions, and nightmares seem like a stroll to the pond on a sunny day.

  Once the green flag dropped and the ten-minute qualifying session got underway, Brad’s frayed nerves calmed since he had to concentrate on Gabrielle’s performance. At the halfway point, Gabrielle posted the quick lap of the day with a time of one minute, nine seconds. It was three tenths of a second faster than anyone else in the session.

  “You’re P one. Four and half minutes to go, so you’ve got time for a few more laps.”

  “What was my time again?”

  When Brad told her, the radio crackled for a second or two, so he repeated her time.

  “I think we’re done. I’m coming in.”

  Brad covered his microphone and looked at Scott. “What the . . . ?”

  His chief engineer could only give him a shrug.

  Gabrielle had to be up to something, so Brad decided to play along. “Acknowledged. Maintain your line until you reach pit lane.” He ran his fingers across his lips to make sure the crew kept their mouths shut and focused on his computer screen.

  As the seconds ticked down, four of the five remaining drivers made valiant runs at Gabrielle’s time but fell short. Chas, on the other hand, posted times that were progressively slower.

  The clock ticked down to zero, and Brad held his breath as the competitors flashed across the finish line a final time. He couldn’t bear to look at his computer screen, so instead, he moved to get a look at the scoring pylon.

  At the top, the number fourteen shone like a beacon in the night.

  He pumped his fist and gave Barbara a high five while Scott helped Gabrielle from the car. It wasn’t until the P one award ceremony was complete and they were back in the relative privacy of the team’s garage that Brad asked Gabrielle for an explanation.

  “It was a chance to mess with Thornton’s head. He had plenty of opportunity to beat my time and couldn’t do it. There’s no way he’ll beat me now.”

  Brad couldn’t contain a smile. “Gutsy call, don’t you think?”

  “I prefer to think of it as a confident call.” She kissed him. “Confidence I wouldn’t have, if not for you. Now let’s go win this race.”

  After the drama of the qualification session, Brad took his position at the scoring stand without a care in the world. They’d controlled everything they could control. What Chas did was beyond their power, so he wouldn’t worry about it.

  As the engines roared to life, he had to wipe away a tear. He tried to tell himself it was a result of a stirring rendition of the national anthem by a local children’s choir, but he knew better.

  The reason for the tear was simple. It was the one-of-a-kind driver in the number fourteen car with the purple AES logo. He was on the verge of winning a season championship for a team that was moving to the top level of American racing, and it was all thanks to Gabrielle.

  He was also well on the path to recovery from his own PTSD and other personal issues, again thanks to Gabrielle.

  God, he was going to miss her.

  After the announcer gave the command for the drivers to start their engines, Brad swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “You ready to do this, G.M.?”

  “Ever since I got in a car when I was a kid.” Once again, through the static-filled radio connection, Gabrielle oozed confidence. It was going to be a fun race.

  The team’s strategy was to have Gabrielle take the lead once the green flag waved and never look back. Without any serious challenges from her competitors, Gabrielle did just that.

  Brad started counting down the laps at five to go. When she flew past them as the white flag waved, he put his arm around
Barbara. His boss was shaking.

  “Bring her home, G.M. You’re the best driver out there by a mile.” He wanted to say so much more, but that would have to wait until they were alone, when he could truly speak from his heart.

  Gabrielle crossed the finish line with a hand in the air. She’d extended one finger for each of her three wins. Would it prove to be the magic number?

  For the first time during the race, Brad turned his attention to the other drivers. When Chas flashed across the finish line in fifth place, his smiled faltered, but only for a few seconds. He’d come to know all too well that you couldn’t have everything in life, so he’d focus on the positive.

  With Gabrielle in his life, even if it was only for a few more weeks, there was more than enough positive.

  • • •

  “Five freaking points.” Mandy let out a low growl that made Gabrielle happy she’d never crossed her. “Aren’t you the least bit angry about coming that close?”

  “Disappointed, yes, but not angry. We had a phenomenal year. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  Gabrielle took one final look in the full-length mirror. The reflection in the strapless purple gown, four-inch heels and teased up-do was a far cry from normal, but she was about to walk the awards-banquet red carpet with Brad and was determined to look fine with a capital F.

  She didn’t go all glam very often. Most of her public appearances involved business attire when she was courting sponsors, or her now famous purple golf shirt when she was at a Racer Girlz event. She had the self-assurance to know she was attractive, but she never wanted her looks to define her career. She wanted to be known as a driver, first and foremost. Because of that, she’d turned down offers to appear in photo shoots that asked her to wear a bikini or slinky outfit.

  It was hard enough succeeding as a woman in racing based on her talent. She didn’t want people to think the only reason she had a ride was because she was a pretty face. It was a kick in the teeth that sexism was still so prevalent in motorsports in the twenty-first century, but Gabrielle had chosen to fight it the only way she knew how—changing one mind at a time.