He tried not to stare. He wanted to lean over the table and kiss her—
“Right, Mart?” Denny said.
“What, buddy? Sorry, I was distracted.”
“You’ll show Mom how to set up my racer, right?”
“You need to learn how to do it. We can work on it this afternoon.” He looked at Kelly. “If you don’t have any plans tonight, why don’t we get Paulie and go practice? I’ll take everyone out to dinner later.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Kelly, it’s no imposition.” He fixed her with his eyes. “I want to, and Denny needs all the practice he can get. I want to work with him as much as I can when I’m home.”
“Really?”
She looked like she couldn’t believe he wanted to help them. He nodded. “Yes, really.”
When she smiled, something caught in his throat, wanting her.
“Thank you, Mart. We appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure, Kelly. Believe me.”
Chapter Seven
Using the map Mart emailed her, Kelly found the hotel in Clermont. While jittery about seeing Mart again, she was even more nervous about Denny qualifying.
Denny called Mart when they were close. Mart met them in the lobby when they checked in.
“Hi. Mart!” Denny flapped.
“Hi, buddy.” He smiled, and Kelly’s heart jumped. How could a man that good-looking and sweet still be single? What was wrong with him?
Yet another reason to take it slow and not get my hopes up.
“Hi, Kelly.”
“Hi, yourself,” she said.
“Dinner next door? My treat,” he offered.
Before Kelly could protest, the boys accepted. She was forced to smile and agree. “Okay.” She couldn’t disappoint them, but she felt guilty Mart was spending more money on them. She didn’t like feeling obligated to him. “Let me get our stuff unloaded, and we’ll meet you there.”
“Great. I’ll go grab us a table.”
Kelly and the boys met him twenty minutes later. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Kelly asked once they were seated and had ordered.
“Terrie’s going to classify Denny first thing. I told her we’d meet her at seven. It shouldn’t take too long. After that, his field and track events.”
Denny flapped. “Mart, did you get the throwing chair?”
“I sure did, buddy.”
“Will it help me throw better?”
“It’ll add a little height so you can get some distance. But remember, you have to stay in the lines.”
“Okay,” Denny said. Before they could talk more, their food arrived. After dinner, they stopped at Mart’s van. He showed them the throwing chair.
“Is that it?” Denny asked.
“Sure is. I need to get you one of your own, but it should work for you for Nationals.” It was a three-legged metal frame with wheels on one side and a cushioned seat at the top.
“That’s neat!” Denny said.
“We’ll get you used to it, figure out the best position tomorrow.”
Denny flapped. “I’ll be warmed up!”
It was only later that night, after Kelly went to bed, that she realized what Mart said. I need to get you one of your own…
Would she ever overcome her fear?
Not at the expense of my boys.
* * * *
Mart’s friend Terrie was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She had curly red hair, a spray of freckles across her cheeks under hazel eyes, a loud Midwestern accent, and a red, white, and blue prosthetic right leg.
Denny looked at her leg. “Wow! Is it battery operated?”
Paulie, Mart, and Terrie all laughed, while Kelly turned a deep shade of purple and clapped a hand to her face, shaking her head.
“No, Speed Racer, it’s not,” Terrie said. “But it’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” She slapped Mart on the shoulder. “How ya doing, crip?”
“Not too bad, gimpy.”
They both laughed again. Kelly felt like she’d just been dropped into an episode of the Twilight Zone—Disability Edition. Mart noticed Kelly’s discomfort.
“I’m sorry, Kel. Terrie and I have known each other for…what?”
“At least fifteen years,” Terrie said. “He was my coach in college.” She looked at Denny. “Be prepared, buddy, he’s going to work your heinie off.”
Denny grinned. “I want to learn to go fast!”
“Yeah, well, Marty will teach ya that, for sure.”
Terrie started working with Denny. Kelly leaned over to Mart. “Uh, what was that about?”
He laughed. “Get used to it. You’ll hear a lot of trash talk among the older athletes. Especially between the amps—amputees—and wheelchairs.”
“But what’s with the…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Crip?” He grinned. “Well, that’s kind of one of those things where it’s okay to say it if you are one, but if anyone else tries to call you that, it’s not okay. Like the N-word.”
“I’m in for a culture shock, aren’t I?”
He smiled. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
After classification, it didn’t take Denny long to get used to the throwing chair. Paulie helped Mart anchor it on the concrete pad. Mart showed him how to align it with the marked vector lines, then secure it with the tie-down straps. One of the other officials helped mark and measure Denny’s throws. Denny easily made his required qualifying distances.
Track was more difficult, because Denny didn’t like the starter’s pistol. Sensitivity to loud noises was common with spina bifida kids, and Denny was no exception. Once he got used to the sound, Denny managed to make the qualifying times for his track events. His only problem was on the 200 meter race, when he had to start on the curve and wobbled in and out of his lane. After Mart let him practice a few minutes, Denny managed to stay in his lane and make the qualifying time.
“We’ll need to work on that, buddy,” Mart told him.
“Do we have time today?” Denny asked.
“Yes. I want you to get used to the compensator. This is a really good track to practice on, because it’s so smooth.”
He helped Denny reset it for an outside lane and coached him on his timing, when to hit it before he went into the curve, so the front wheel would naturally follow the track. And when to hit it again on the straight-away, so the racer would automatically steer straight. “You want to get to the point where you don’t need to bump your steering arm at all, just use the compensator or adjust how hard you push on one side or the other to steer. Otherwise, you’ll be all over the track. When you’re bigger, you’ll be able to throw your weight to either side and hip it.”
After the instructions, Mart sent the boys around the track, telling Denny to focus more on staying in the lane than on his speed at first. “Don’t touch the steering, use the compensator. Focus ahead of you, adjust your push strength on either side to steer. Got it?”
Denny nodded, and the boys took off.
Kelly sat on the grass next to Mart’s chair, watching the boys circle the track. Denny pushing, Paulie jogging right behind.
“He’s getting the hang of the compensator,” Mart said. “That’s one of the trickiest things at the beginning. If he can master that, he’ll do great in longer races.”
“This is all Greek to me. I’m so lost right now, if it wasn’t for you, I’d be a wreck.”
He touched her shoulder. “You’re doing great.”
Their eyes met. She pulled her gaze away from him to watch the boys. They were at the far end of the track, coming around the turn. Denny carefully pushed as Mart had instructed, doing his best to stay in the lane.
With nearly effortless movement, Mart slid out of his chair and sat on the grass next to her. “Seriously. You’re in the middle of a huge learning curve,” he reassured her. “This time next year, you’ll be an old pro.”
“I wish I believed that.”
“I noticed on the pa
perwork his name is Daniel. Why did you start calling him Denny?”
“We named him after my dad. He was always called Dan or Danny, and when Denny was a baby, it was still painful to call him that because my dad died not too long before. Paulie called him Denny, and that’s what he’s been ever since.”
“That’s cute.” He watched the boys. “They really stick together, don’t they?”
“I tried to keep Paulie involved early on so he didn’t feel left out or neglected. I’m lucky he’s so close to Denny. But I’m glad Denny’s got his own sports now.” She watched as Denny lagged and Paulie apparently joked with him, smiling. Denny dug into his push strokes again.
Kelly’s voice dropped. “He feels responsible for Denny. And me. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s always been really mature for his age, you know? My ex had a secret email account. Paulie’s the one who found it, showed it to me.” She kept her eyes on the boys, wondering why she was spilling her guts to Mart. “I know Paulie loves his father, but he resents what he did, too. I think Paulie feels guilty about the divorce, that he found the email account, so he tries to make it up to Denny.” She studied her hands for a moment. “If Denny has his own sports, maybe Paulie can relax. Not feel guilty about doing things without Denny.”
* * * *
Mart studied her. “This is personal, I know, and feel free to tell me to butt out. Your divorce wasn’t friendly, was it?”
“No,” she whispered. “David didn’t want a divorce. He wanted me to put up with his screwing around.” Mart didn’t push her. Eventually she continued. “I spent a lot of years listening to David tell me how good he was for me, how lucky I was that he took care of me. That I’d never make it on my own. Then I found out about the other women.”
“Did he hit you?”
“Not with his fists. Words can hurt pretty deep, and you can’t see the scars. Would have been easier if he had. At least then I would have ended it sooner.”
She met Mart’s gaze. He saw how close she was to tears. He wanted to put his arm around her and comfort her. He settled for taking her hand, and she didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. Patty thinks I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
“What do you think?”
She shrugged. “I think I need to suck it up and move on. It’s a lot better than it used to be. I have two boys who need me. They sure as hell can’t count on their father.”
“I think they’re two very lucky boys to have you as their mom.”
“Enough about me. And the ex-man. This is supposed to be fun.”
Outside the fence, directly across the track, two rabbits emerged from the brush and gingerly sniffed at the air. Mart pointed them out. To break the tension, he said, in a decent Scottish accent, “Argh, those rabbits are murder!”
Kelly looked surprised. For a moment, Mart was worried she didn’t get the Monty Python reference, and he prepared to apologize.
Then she responded in a passable British accent, “Run away! Run away! I think I wet myself!”
He grinned and replied in a different accent, “Oh, shut up and go change your armor.”
They were still laughing when the boys stopped in front of them.
“What’s so funny?” Denny asked.
The adults looked at each other and laughed again. “Nothing,” Mart said. “How are you guys doing?”
He sent them around the track for another slow lap. The boys walked away. Mart tried to work up his nerve.
She knew Monty Python—could it get any better?
Ask her. Ask her now. The mood and moment were perfect.
He looked at her, took a deep breath, and then she spoke.
“Mart, again, thank you so much for all of this.” She watched the boys. “I never could have done this without you.”
He lost his nerve. “Kelly, I mean it when I say it’s my pleasure.”
* * * *
They bandied Monty Python lines back and forth all afternoon, most going over the boys’ heads. How long had it been since she’d laughed like this?
Kelly couldn’t remember.
Her sense of humor had constantly grated on David. In college, she’d hung out with like-minded friends, but David wasn’t into her kind of humor. She was a Monty Python kind of girl; David was a “pull my finger” kind of guy.
That should have been a clue, she realized later.
She thought Mart would laugh himself out of his chair when she sang “The Drunken Philosophers Song” by heart.
“I cannot believe you know that. I am suitably impressed.”
It struck her one of the reasons she was attracted to Mart was his playful, funny nature. He was kind, not with David’s “I’m-just-kidding-geez-can’t-you-take-a-joke?” biting edge.
Why can’t I tell him how I feel? Kelly thought about the unfinished poem sitting on her computer. She knew it would break her heart if Mart didn’t feel the same.
She wanted to see Denny excel in sports. To do that, he needed a coach. Mart was great with him. The changes she already saw in Denny’s self-confidence were more than worth the cost of sitting back and not rocking this delicately-balanced boat. Not to mention how it would help Paulie, get the boys doing things independently.
She admitted it—she was afraid. She didn’t know Mart, not really. It was better to keep her mouth shut. Because if she didn’t say anything to him, then he couldn’t say no.
Chapter Eight
Over the next few weeks, Kelly managed to corral her hormones and focus on work. Her priorities were to a)survive summer, b)take the boys on a trip, and then c)revisit the “Mart Rawlings is a hunk” issue later, if it was still even on the table by that point.
Although, with Patty egging her on to ask him out, Kelly found herself frequently wavering on point C.
There was no reason to rush into anything. Rushing into a relationship got her divorced with two sons. The very fact that she felt so goofy about Mart was even more reason to take it slow.
She was settling in to work one morning when her phone rang.
“Denny is officially entered in Nationals,” Mart said.
Kelly closed her eyes and conjured Mart’s face. “Really?”
“All set. I just received confirmation from the local organizing committee that they got his registration packet.”
“Good.” With Denny qualified in field, track, and swimming, it’d be a busy week in Spokane. “Now I have to plan the trip.”
“I have frequent flier miles I can give you, if you need them.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m still not sure what we’re doing. We might drive.”
“That’s a long drive.”
She bit back a snarky reply. David had already belittled her over the phone when she mentioned they might drive to Spokane, and she still stung from that exchange. But Mart’s tone of voice wasn’t condescending.
“I know,” she said. “I promised the boys a trip. I need to crunch numbers and figure out how to swing it, either way.”
“Well, seriously. If you need help, let me know.”
She knew she couldn’t accept his tempting offer. He’d done so much already, she couldn’t impose on him. “Thanks, Mart. I’ll talk to you later.”
Kelly hung up and rubbed her eyes. She’d run tentative numbers the day before. Even with the cost of gas, flying the three of them to Spokane and renting a large van for the week would be almost as much as if they drove. Not to mention she despised flying. It was worth driving just to not have to fly.
And she had promised the boys a camping trip.
She looked at the US map pinned to her office wall, the one Denny and Paulie used for their homework.
Her finger traced I-75 north. They could see St. Louis, hook through Kansas City, up to Sioux Falls. Then across South Dakota to Rapid City—the Badlands and Mount Rushmore. Yellowstone. After they left Spokane, they could head west and see Mount St. Helens and Mt.Rainier. Realisti
cally, when would they ever have another chance like this?
It was doable. If she could find the money to do it.
Her folder of monthly bills lay open on the desk, the mortgage statement on top. She had a fixed mortgage that was almost half paid, thanks to the divorce. Over fifty grand in equity.
Back to the map. There was so much they could see between Florida and Washington. Trip of a lifetime. More than enough to help the boys forget their father reneged on his promise.
Kelly glanced at the clock. It was only noon. She picked up the mortgage statement, found the customer service number, and made the call.
An hour later, she looked at the map again. If she wanted, she could have ten grand in an equity line of credit by the end of tomorrow. She wouldn’t need that much, and she could use credit cards.
But it was a safety net.
I’ll have to rent a U-Haul trailer…
She’d already priced renting an RV, and the mileage charge alone was astronomical. So if they drove, it would be the Element.
* * * *
After school, Kelly sat the boys down. “I need to talk to you.”
“What’d we do, Mom?” Denny asked.
“Nothing, honey. We need to have a family meeting.”
“What’s going on?” Paulie interrupted.
“If you’ll let me talk, I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath. “Denny, do you really want to go to Nationals?”
He nodded. “I know it’s a lot of money. I’ll do chores.”
“That’s not the point. Do you really want to go? To compete?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Paulie. “You don’t get to sit and play around all the time. I’d need your help with your brother’s equipment and the luggage.”
“I get to pick on Squirt, right?” He tousled his brother’s hair, eliciting a protest from the younger boy. Then he turned serious. “I’ll help.”
“If we fly, we can go straight there, sightsee a day or two before and after. It’ll be an easier trip.”
Paulie watched her, knowing there was a point and smart enough not to rush her. “Yeah?”
Cross Country Chaos Page 5