Start Your Engines

by Jim Cangany

  “Look at that poser. I bet he sleeps with a Gordon Ramsey cookbook under his pillow.”

  Brad gave Greg a sideways glance. Among the Thomas brothers, insulting each other wasn’t simply tolerated: It was expected. “If he does, it’s because you gave it to him and begged him to make whatever was on page twenty-three for you.”

  “That’s because I couldn’t ask you since you don’t know how to read or count higher than ten.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, my brother. Don’t you remember? I can count to twelve, because that’s how many speeding tickets you got in high school.” He slapped Greg on the back and made a point to look away from their mom and her disapproving glare.

  “Dang it. I can’t argue with the truth. You win.” As the line inched forward, the brothers got caught up on each other’s lives. “I actually didn’t know until yesterday afternoon whether or not we were going to make it. Eddie’s soccer club lost in its tournament yesterday. If they would have won, we’d be spending the afternoon at the pitch instead of here.”

  All of a sudden, Brad wanted to ask his brother what it was like having a family. The whole thing, a dog and a cat to go along with his three boys. He managed to hold his tongue but was still shocked the idea had even occurred to him.

  It wasn’t that Brad was opposed to getting married, having a couple of kids, and attending PTO meetings. The thought had never crossed his mind before. After years of looking inward, Brad was finally looking outward. It was all because of Gabrielle.

  And she’d just commented about maybe staying here. Could it be as simple as asking her to stay?

  A bump to his lower back startled Brad out of his daydream. There was now a five-foot gap between him and the person in front of him.

  “Come on, bro. Get your head out of the clouds. Our brother may be a pillock, but I’m ready to eat.”

  He closed the gap. Greg was right. Brad’s life didn’t have room for dreaming. He was losing his driver, his friend, and the one person with whom he could envision spending the rest of his life.

  That was his reality, and it definitely wasn’t something made of dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brad was reviewing a technical manual for the car the team would use in the International Series when there was a knock on the door. He waved Barbara into a chair.

  “Good news.” She handed him a manila folder. “That’s the signed purchase agreement for Gale Force Racing’s first International Series car. We take delivery in November.”

  “Ho-ly cow.” He should have said more, but as he flipped through pages, he couldn’t come up with anything more insightful. “It’s really happening.”

  “Indeed. I’m signing off on an engine lease at the end of the week. Once that’s complete, all we’ll need is a driver.”

  He grabbed for his coffee cup. He’d been avoiding that particular task like it was a venomous snake. Gabrielle had been gone for over a week now, and other than a text from Rafael to let him know they’d made it to Fort Lauderdale safely, there’d been no contact with her.

  Their good-bye had demolished any hope Brad would love someone again. While Gabrielle had smiled through her tears, he’d barely been able to function, like a toy sputtering with almost dead batteries. In the end, a long hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a request to stay safe was all he could muster.

  Now he had to find a new driver. Not a replacement, though. Nobody would ever replace Gabrielle Marquez.

  The list Scott gave him the day after Gabrielle left was somewhere on Brad’s desk, now buried under a stack of unsolicited driver résumés and a handful of sponsorship proposals.

  “Yeah, about that.” He shuffled some stacks around. The list wasn’t where he’d last seen it. “It was around here, somewhere.”

  “Look.” Barbara let out a weary sigh.

  “I’m sorry. You’ve been very patient with me. I’ll touch base with Scott and get a new list ASAP.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Brad. I truly am sorry we couldn’t keep Gabrielle, not just for the team, but for you, too. If there was any way I could afford to keep her, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” She rose to her feet. “I wanted you to know that.”

  “Thanks, Barbara. I appreciate it.” He did appreciate it, though all Barbara’s kind words managed to do was twist the knife even more.

  She opened the door. “Take your time on the list. I’d like to have a driver under contract when we take delivery of the car, though. Fair enough?”

  “Absolutely.” When the door closed, Brad leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Barbara wanted a new driver in six weeks. It was doable. The first task was to accept the fact Gabrielle was gone and wasn’t coming back. Easier said than done.

  The next day he dropped by Scott’s office. The chief engineer was staring at his laptop. “Whatcha watching, honey?”

  “Barbara gave me homework. She wants me to evaluate our engine options and give her a recommendation.”

  “And?”

  “I’m wondering why she didn’t give this to you.”

  “I think she wanted me to focus on a driver.” He looked at his worn basketball shoes. “You wouldn’t happen to have another copy of that list you gave me, would you?”

  Scott dropped his chin to his chest. “Seriously, dude? Don’t you think it might be time to move on? At least professionally?”

  The words stung like a swarm of bees focusing on his heart. Scott was right, though. He couldn’t let his broken heart put the future of the team in jeopardy.

  He swallowed a childish retort and nodded. “I do. Which is why I’m here. I figure you can print that list a lot quicker than I can find it digging around my desk.”

  With a grumble, Scott pulled up the document on his computer. A few seconds later, a printer on the corner of his workstation whirred to life.

  “I’m sending you a meeting invite for this Friday. Between now and then, you need to narrow the list down to a handful of possibilities. When we meet, we’re going to go over your finalists and decide on a recommendation.”

  Brad took the list and, like a dog with its tail between its legs, shuffled back to his office. The document was five pages long, with information on each driver ranging from height to number of wins to favorite food. Brad cleared off his desk until the only things remaining were the stack of résumés and Scott’s list.

  It was time to get to work again.

  Three days later, with a forty-four-ounce mug filled with Fleetwood Coffee Company’s Turbocharger Black brew, Brad pulled into his parking spot at the garage. His head still ached from his nonstop research, but the culling was complete.

  The remaining eight would be the subject of a final debate with Scott.

  The chief engineer was waiting for him in the lounge, along with a box of yeast doughnuts, two yellow legal pads, and a collection of highlighters of every color of the rainbow.

  “I’m impressed.” Brad wolfed down a doughnut in three bites. “What’s all this for?”

  “If we’re going to pick a driver, we need to do it right.” Scott rubbed his hands together. “What have you got for me?”

  By the time they broke for lunch, they were down to three candidates. Nonstop caffeine guzzling had driven away Brad’s headache, but his frustration level was on an upward curve.

  Over submarine sandwiches, Scott took a break from chewing to rub his eyes. “What’s wrong with John Gaughan? He’s worked his way up through the ranks, he’s won some races, and, by all accounts, he’s a good kid.”

  “He’s a little lacking in the experience category for me. If he had one more year in the junior series, then maybe . . . ”

  “Ashford, then. He’s twenty-five. He even has a year in the International Series.”

  “He seems arrogant. After Chas . . . ” Brad shook his head.

  Scott threw up his hands. “I give up. Admit it. The only driver who will make you happy isn’t on that list and never was.”

  The frustration in Scott’s words p
ushed Brad back in his chair. He’d never heard his longtime friend so exasperated.

  “What—”

  “Don’t.” Scott threw down his napkin. “The only driver you want is Gabrielle. I’d give you even odds you could talk her into coming back if you’d at least try. You haven’t, have you?”

  “No.” Brad hung his head in shame.

  “Is it too late?”

  “She’s supposed meet with the Jensen people this weekend. Bridget told me her flight leaves today.”

  “Then you better get moving.”

  Scott was right. Brad had chosen a path that seemed safe but had only left him heartbroken. He wanted Gabrielle in his life. He needed her in his life. He’d been too foolish to be honest with himself and share his true feelings with Gabrielle.

  Yes, it was time to get moving.

  • • •

  “Ready for this?” When Gabrielle didn’t move, Rafael gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, come on. Your dream’s about to come true.”

  She tried to get her brain to send the message to her legs to start moving, but the transmission sent static and nothing else. Maybe she wasn’t ready for a leap this high. Maybe she wasn’t meant for A-1 racing. Maybe dreams weren’t supposed to come true. “What if—”

  “What if the Jensen people turn out to be jerks? What if you can’t get along with the team’s other driver? What if you fail?” Rafael put his arms around Gabrielle.

  “If that’s what you’re thinking, you need to stop. This trip is the culmination of everything you’ve done since you got in a car. You’ve climbed all of your mountains. And now there’s another pinnacle to summit. Maybe it was hidden by the clouds, but now it’s in plain sight, so it’s time for a new set of goals.”

  She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. “You’re right. I guess I’m freaked out because this was never part of the plan.”

  The doorbell rang. Their car service had arrived to take them to the airport. In a couple of hours, less time than it would take to complete the Crossroads Five Hundred, Gabrielle would be on a nonstop flight to London, with Rafael by her side and her destiny in front of her. If things went as planned, there would be no looking back.

  Was she really ready for that? She’d always been ready in the past, but as they said, that was then, this is now.

  After checking her purse for the fourth time to make sure her boarding pass and passport were there, she gave Rafael a fist bump. “Time to make a new plan.”

  Gabrielle knew firsthand how interminable a transatlantic flight was, so she tried to nap. Rafael was too jacked up over his first trip to England to cooperate.

  “What do you think I should do when we get there? I mean I definitely need to visit Big Ben and Westminster, and I was thinking the Eye would be cool. I wonder if I’ll have time to make a trip to Cardiff, you know, where they film Doctor Who?”

  “How about a drink?” She closed the Jensen Motorsport media guide Megan had given her. Homework wasn’t going to happen with her brother so animated. “What sounds good?”

  “I’ve never had a drink on a plane. You sure we can afford it?” Rafael’s wide eyes made Gabrielle laugh.

  “I think so.” She winked at him. “Drinks are free on international flights.”

  “In that case, make it a rum and Coke.” He gave her a high five. “We’re not driving, right?”

  “Not while we’re on this plane, I hope.” She slipped out of her seat. “Back in a few.”

  She strolled up and down the aisle, stealing a few moments to think before returning to her seat. Rafael had accepted the invitation to accompany her with no questions asked. Her brother meant the world to her, and he’d be a perfect sounding board when day one of her visit was complete. Despite his obvious excitement now, he’d provide her with thoughtful and deliberate answers to her questions later. He knew her better than anybody on Earth. And he wouldn’t lie to her to make her happy. Right now, she needed honesty more than anything.

  A few minutes later, Gabrielle returned to her row to find Rafael studying an English Premier League schedule.

  “Thanks.” He took his drink without looking up. “So, I was thinking if you finish up early enough, maybe we can make it to an Arsenal or Chelsea game. That would be awesome, don’t you think?”

  More like nightmarish. After an initial day of introductions, meetings, and a facility tour, Gabrielle was going to do two things—debrief and then unwind with a big glass of wine.

  “Maybe another time. I’m probably going to be pretty wiped out. If this works out, there will be plenty more chances for you to come see me and catch a game, right?”

  “Good point.” He took a long pull on his rum and Coke and almost choked. “Good God, that’s strong.” He pounded his chest with his fist. “What, did you have them just wave a Coke can at the glass?”

  “Simply economizing my trips. Ordered you a double.” Which ought to lead to a visit from the Sandman in the near future. She lifted her wine. “Cheers.”

  When the fasten seatbelts lights came on, Gabrielle nudged Rafael. “Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead. Time to rise and shine.”

  Rafael hit her with a tiny airplane pillow. “Don’t ever wake me up that way again. I let Mom do it because she was Mom. You’re not Mom.”

  “No, I’m just the person responsible for your first trip to Europe.” She pointed out the window. “Check it out.” After hours seeing nothing but ocean, the English coastline was coming into view. Tiny white waves hit the shore, an enchanting sight as the next part of Gabrielle’s journey was about to begin.

  Rafael didn’t turn his head away from the window until two soft bumps confirmed their return to terra firma. As they worked their way through customs, Gabrielle turned on her phone to let their hosts know they’d arrived. She was about to put it back in her pocket, but her voice mail icon indicated she had a message.

  A customs agent called her and Rafael over for processing before she could listen to the message, so it wasn’t until they were waiting to retrieve their bags that she put her phone to her ear.

  She recognized Brad’s voice immediately. Her knees grew weak as she listened, and she had to pause the message and find a chair before she could finish it. Her eyes became watery at his parting words.

  “Take care of yourself. I miss you. And I love you.”

  By the time Rafael had tracked her down, she’d used up her entire package of travel tissues. Her eyes were scratchy and her nose was stuffy, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

  The worst was her heart was breaking.

  “What’s wrong? Is it Mom or Dad? Do you need me to call someone?” Rafael’s voice was high-pitched and uneven. He kept looking from left to right, as if searching for the authorities.

  “No, it’s Brad.” She patted the open seat next to her. “God, I’m going to miss him.”

  Rafael adjusted the collar of his shirt. “I hear you. You guys made a great team this year. I’m sure he’ll miss you, too. The whole team will. I bet they’ll be cheering for you back in the States.”

  Gabrielle shook her head as weariness covered her like a soaking wet blanket. She wanted to say it was the travel, but she didn’t have the energy to lie to herself and couldn’t bear the thought of how much additional weight lying to her brother would add to her load. “No. It’s more than that.”

  Rafael looked her in the eyes for a moment. “What are you trying to tell me, G?”

  A man in a suit and tie, holding a sign with her name on it, came into view. A lie of omission was still a lie, but maybe it wouldn’t weigh very much.

  “Never mind. I’m just tired.” She waved in the direction of their driver. “Time to get a move on. Shall we?”

  Gabrielle stared out the window during the drive from Heathrow to their hotel in Mayfair in an attempt to soak in the stunning sites of London. It also let her avoid conversation with Rafael.

  She was almost there. Almost ready to take that leap onto the uncertain footbridge of her fu
ture. Brad had chosen to turn the page on their relationship, so it was time for her to do the same.

  Or so she’d thought.

  As the driver assisted her out of the limousine, she took a deep breath and steeled herself to step into the future. She couldn’t escape the question that kept bouncing in her head.

  Was this the only future that was in store for her?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  As he dashed to his car, Brad thought back to a recent conversation he’d had with his father.

  He was helping Edward trim the bushes that ran along the side of the house. They were almost finished when Brad set down the hedge clippers and wiped his brow. The corn in the nearby fields was taller than the both of them, and it wouldn’t be long until the farmer who leased the land began the harvest.

  “Do you miss it? Farming, I mean?”

  Edward propped his rake against the house. “Sometimes I miss the hours alone in the fields. It gave me time to think, and, between you and your siblings, that time was precious.”

  He grinned and made a jab for Brad’s stomach. It had been two decades since Edward and Helen stopped farming the land themselves and leased it to a friend. The move made financial sense, but every now and then, the kids got the feeling Dad missed being out on his beloved John Deere tractor.

  “Seriously, though, as you all grew up, I got tired of missing your activities. If I hadn’t stepped aside, I wouldn’t have been able to see Bridget’s band performances or help you with your karts. So, no. No regrets.”

  Brad picked up the clippers, but instead of starting them, he held the machine in his hands while he pondered his father’s words.

  “Something bothering you?” Edward put a hand on Brad’s shoulder.

  “No. I guess I never realized how much you sacrificed to be around for us kids.”

  “When it involves special people in your life, it’s not a sacrifice, because you gain so much more than you lose when you choose to be there for them.” He nodded toward the house. “Come on. I could use some of your mother’s iced tea.”