Taming Zach

by Amy Sparling

  I finish my coffee and tell Mama that I have to pee, but really I walk down the hallway to the waiting room and I plunk down in the uncomfortable chairs and start looking up apartments. Even though Hopewell is a small town, there’s not much Mama and I could afford on our incomes. I really need a job. A real, salary-paying job. And then I could work the track on the weekends and help Mama clean houses. She can stay home with Dad during the day and clean houses in the evenings. We’ll have to find a way to make it work.

  A knot digs into my stomach because it’s not as easy as saying I’ll “just get a job”. I’ve been applying for jobs forever and no one ever calls me back. Not to mention, there are no good jobs in Hopewell. I’ve been applying in all the big cities because I want to move away and start my life over.

  Once again, I feel the pang of loss as I think about Zach. Everything has been so crazy lately that I’ve barely had time to let my heart hurt over him. But just thinking about moving away reminds me of what I was running away from.

  I want to take a stack of magazines off this waiting room table and smack myself in the face with them. I don’t, because God knows what germs are on them, but ugh. I am not allowed to even think about Zach right now. Screw him. I never even read that long message Keanna sent me because I’ve been too busy with my dad. I don’t think I’ll read it at all. There’s just no point.

  Right now I need to figure out a way to make enough money for when we’re kicked out of the house we don’t own.

  I look up apartments online and save a few that seem mildly affordable. There’s a knock on the wall and I look up to see a familiar face.

  “There you are,” Grant Perkins says. He’s the owner of the track. My dad’s boss. He smiles at me but all it does is make me nervous. I was just thinking about him and how he’ll probably kick us out of our house until my dad can work again.

  “Can you join me?” he asks. I’m not sure where he wants us to go, but I get up and follow him back to my dad’s hospital room.

  Inside, he hugs my mom and tells her that he’s confident my dad will be okay. Then he turns to both of us. My heart pounds. Grant has always been a nice guy and he’s like a part of the family, but is he seriously about to talk to us about our living situation?

  “I know you’re in for a long recovery,” he says solemnly. “I just want you to know that I’ll be here to help in any way I can.”

  “Thank you,” Mama says. She looks at me and squeezes my hand.

  Grant reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. He holds it out to my mom. “I want you to have this.”

  I watch her open it. It’s some kind of official document. Tears flood into her eyes and she puts a hand over her mouth. “We can’t accept this!” she says.

  Grant shakes his head. “Yes, you can. I should have done it a long time ago.”

  Mom hands me the paper while she hugs him and I read over it. It’s the deed to our house. He’s giving us the house.

  He’s giving us the house! Holy crap!

  “Thank you,” I say, rushing forward to hug him myself.

  Grant chuckles. “You’re both quite welcome. I want you to know that you always have a place at Hopewell. Even if Josh can’t get back to work for years. Or ever. This place is home to you all and I want you there. You’re like my family.”

  Mama is full on crying now. “This means so much,” she says. I can see the relief in her eyes and I realize she was probably just as worried as I was.

  “Hopewell Motocross park wouldn’t be the same without you,” Grant says. “You let me know if you need anything, you hear? Right now I’ve got the guys building a wheelchair ramp on your porch. It’ll be ready when Josh gets released.”

  I can’t help myself as I throw my arms around the old man for another hug. I don’t know why I worried that he might kick us out if Dad can’t work anymore. He’s a good guy. He’s been around for as long as I can remember. Hopewell Motocross Park has been around for as long as I can remember. This little town is my life. The people are my friends. The motocross track means everything to me. I can’t believe I ever wanted to move away to a big city. No big city could ever mean this much to me. No one gives you free houses in a corporate job. This is the place for me. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize it.

  I want to stay in Hopewell with the people who are my family and the people who are like family. Finding a job might be tough, but I want to make my life here, just like my parents did all those years ago.

  “Thank you,” I tell Grant. “You have no idea how much this means to us.”

  Chapter 19

  I read all of the Facebook comments. Most people don’t know the details, but it sounds bad. Really bad.

  Jett and Keanna are watching me while I dig through all the information I can find online. We’ve put the bikes back up and now we’re all sitting on Jett’s huge back patio near the pool.

  “I have to go to Hopewell,” I say, setting my phone down. “I need to check on Mr. Grayson.”

  “Did you know him pretty well?” Jett asks. He doesn’t know about my Bree drama—at least I don’t think he does. Keanna might have told him but he hasn’t said anything. I feel like I can trust Keanna to keep my embarrassing secrets, but she and Jett also have this seriously close relationship where I bet they tell each other everything.

  “Yeah,” I say, feeling my chest constrict. “I’ve known him ever since I started riding. He’s worked at the track forever. He’s a great guy.” I take a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “He could be dying for all I know, because no one is posting any damn details. Thoughts and prayers aren’t helping me figure out what’s going on.”

  “Maybe you could call someone?” Keanna says.

  “Maybe,” I say, knowing full well that I could call up Grant Perkins and ask him for information. But Mr. Grayson is more than just the guy who works at the track. He’s Bree’s dad. I need to be there for her.

  I stand up. “I need a ride to the airport.”

  “Marcus wants us in Cali tomorrow,” Jett says. “Think you can do both?”

  “Tomorrow?” I say, glancing at my phone to check the date. “The race is three days away.”

  Jett shrugs. “He wants us early for practice. He sent an email.”

  I check my email, and sure enough there’s a message from our manager. Dammit. “I don’t care,” I say, shoving my phone in my pocket. “I’m gonna go pack up my stuff and then I’ll take the first flight to Tennessee.

  Jett and Keanna share a look but I don’t care what they think of me. I head inside to pack my things. Marcus will be pissed if I’m not there tomorrow, especially since I’m finally back on the team. With a sigh, I know I need to tell him. I can’t just not show up.

  I sit on Jett’s futon and call my manager. He answers in a cheerful tone. Well, that’s about to change.

  “Hey, Marcus,” I say, feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach. What the hell am I doing? I just got back on the team. “I have some bad news. I need to fly back home for a couple days, but I’ll be in Cali for the race this weekend.”

  “What’s going on?” Marcus asks, sounding more concerned than pissed off. “Is your mom okay?”

  I’m tempted to lie and say she’s sick, but I don’t want that kind of bad karma to come back to me. “Yeah, she’s fine, but it’s another—uh—emergency. A very close family friend is in ICU and I need to visit him. And his family.”

  Marcus sighs and I can feel his frustration coming through the line. “You’ll be back to race this weekend.”

  It’s not a question. “Yes, sir.”

  Jett drives me to the airport but Keanna stays behind to babysit her brother and Jett’s sister while their parents go out for lunch. I find a flight on my phone and book the next one. Unfortunately, it’s two hours from now, so I wander around the Houston airport looking at the various shops and places to eat. I can’t eat anything because my stomach is too twisted up. I feel so bad for Mr. Grayson. Critical condit
ion means he could be close to death. What the hell happened to him? I bet Bree is freaking out. She’s very close with her parents.

  I stare at my phone and consider sending her a message. Just something casual like, “I heard about your dad and I hope he’s doing okay.” Or “Thinking about you and your dad.” Ugh, no those are both awful. I can’t express my concerns for her over a text message. I need to see her in person.

  When my plane lands, I catch an Uber back home because my mom is still at work, but when my Uber pulls up to my house, Mom is just getting home.

  She looks concerned when a strange car pulls up in the driveway, but then her expression turns to confusion when she sees me get out. “Zach?” she says. Then she sighs. “Did you get kicked off the team again?”

  “Mom, no.” I help her carry in groceries from the trunk. “I’m here to check on Mr. Grayson.”

  “Grayson?” she says, unlocking the front door. “The guy who works at the track?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Do you know what happened to him?”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Mom says. “Is he okay?”

  I shrug. “Online it says he’s in critical condition at the hospital.”

  “Holy shit,” Mom says. “Wow, I haven’t heard a word. Of course, I don’t get online much and I’m not up to date with the motocross world anymore.”

  I grab a snack from the pantry because now I’m pretty hungry from skipping lunch. “I’m just here to visit him real quick and then I have to head to California for the race this weekend.”

  “Well it’s nice to see you,” Mom says, squeezing me into a hug.

  I take a shower and try to relax as much as possible before I head to the hospital. I can’t stand the thought of Bree kicking me out the second she sees me. She might do it, too. But I want to be there for her and her dad. Mr. Grayson was like family to me back when I lived here and rode at the track every day. I really hope he’s going to be okay.

  At the hospital, I stop in the gift shop and get some flowers. Then I finally find someone who works here and is helpful enough to tell me that Mr. Grayson is on the third floor in ICU. I make my way up there only to get stopped by the stern-faced nurse at the nurse’s station. She holds out her hand for the flowers. “What room are these for?”’

  “Whichever room Mr. Grayson is in,” I say, handing them over. “Can I go see him?”

  “Are you family?”

  I bite my lip. “Not exactly, but we’re like family.”

  “Real family only,” she says without a hint of sympathy. “You can wait in the waiting room to talk to family members if you want.”

  I put my hands on the counter. “Can I please just go back there and look inside?” I ask. “I want to see him.”

  “Sorry. Family only until he’s out of ICU.”

  Another nurse walks up wearing purple scrubs that have Scooby Doo all over them. She’s younger, with long blonde hair pulled in a low ponytail and three silver earrings in each ear. “Oh my God,” she says, looking at me with that look I get a lot. “You’re Zach Pena, right?”

  I want to roll my eyes. Now is not the time for a gushing fan, but then I realize that maybe a gushing fan is what I need right now.

  “That’s me,” I say, flashing her a smile that I know will make her swoon.

  Her whole face lights up. “I’m a huge fan! My cousins race motocross and I used to watch you race back in the day. Now I watch you on TV, how cool is that?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” I say, using my flirty voice. “My friend Mr. Grayson is in here and he works at the local track. I just really want to see him before I head off to Cali for the race this weekend.”

  Her smile turns a little sad. “I wish I could let you back,” she says, biting her bottom lip.

  That first nurse I talked to has walked away, but this nurse glances around and then looks back at me. “I really can’t, though. I’d get in trouble.”

  “I understand,” I say, sighing. “I just want to know if he’s okay.”

  “I can’t really say anything either but…” She glances around to make sure we’re alone. “They think he will recover,” she whispers.

  “What happened?” I whisper back.

  “Tractor fell on him.” Her voice is so soft I have to halfway listen and halfway read her lips.

  My eyes widen. “Holy shit,” I say at normal volume.

  She nods. “His family members are in there right now and they’ll probably come out soon. They come and go a lot, so you can just wait until they do.”

  “Thanks,” I say, drumming my fingers on the countertop. I’m not sure what Bree will do when she sees me, but I hope she’ll understand that I’m here because I care.

  I make my way down the hallway to the waiting room. It’s cold in here and smells like cleaning chemicals. The chairs are all hard plastic, which sucks. There’s a TV on the wall that’s playing some God-awful daytime talk show. I sit in the corner and try to get comfortable by stretching across two chairs. I really hope the wait isn’t long.

  Maybe as soon as that first nurse delivers my flowers to Mr. Grayson’s room, Bree will come out here to thank me in person. I wrote a little note on the card in the flowers and signed it with my name. Or maybe she’ll see they’re from me, throw them in the trash and have security escort me out.

  I take a deep breath and hope for the best. My eyes get heavy and I realize I barely slept last night. Then I rode Jett’s dirt bike for hours and then hopped on a flight and barely had any food all day. I’m exhausted.

  My eyes flutter closed and I rest my head against the wall behind me. It is not comfortable. There’s no way I’ll fall asleep like this. But somehow, I do.

  I don’t know how much time has passed when I become aware of my surroundings. The room is cold, and the smell is annoying. My eyes are still closed and there’s a cramp in my neck. I yawn and my eyes flutter open. There’s a shadow hovering over me. No, not a shadow.

  A girl.

  Bree Grayson is standing right in front of me.

  Chapter 20

  This is the last person I expected to find when the nurse said someone was waiting for me. I expected extended family members, or one of Dad’s coworkers from the track. But the gorgeous, impossibly good-looking guy slouched across two chairs in the waiting room was not on my mind.

  His eyes open and he blinks quickly, adjusting to the harsh lights of this little waiting room. He sits up and runs his hands over his hair. “Hi.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came as soon as I found out. How are you? Are you okay? Is your dad okay?”

  I can see the mountain of emotions behind his eyes and I know he’s at least being honest about his worry for my dad. But I don’t uncross my arms. I want to know why he’s here. Why. Because everyone else who knows my dad from the track has sent their well wishes online or in cards. They haven’t dropped everything and flown to another state.

  I stare at him until his gaze falls to the floor. “Bree…”

  “Why are you here?” I say again.

  “I told you,” he says, standing up. I take a step backward. It’s hard to be intimidating when he’s now towering over me. He reaches out and brushes his fingers across my arm. “I’m here to see if you’re okay.”

  I grit my teeth. I can feel my heart loosening up even though I want to keep hating him. “Dad is…” I pause, looking at the floor. I don’t even know what to say. I take a deep breath. “He’ll survive. Most likely. I mean unless there’s any crazy complications or something, but he should be okay. He got out of surgery just fine.”

  Zach’s brows pull together. “That’s good news. Can I ask what exactly happened to him? The post on the Hopewell Facebook page was pretty vague.”

  I can’t stand telling the story because every time I do, I visualize the scene in my mind. It’s horrifying. It’s been haunting my nightmares and I didn’t even witness it firsthand. M
aybe my imagination is worse than real life.

  I take a seat because otherwise I might throw up. Zach sits next to me, his knees angled toward mine. He puts a hand on my shoulder. I want to shrug him off and tell him to go to hell, but I don’t. I concentrate instead on telling him what happened.

  “My dad was working on the tractor. That big one they use to till up the dirt on the track?”

  He nods. I swallow. “It was up in the air on a jack and the jack broke and the tractor fell down. Dad managed to crawl out as fast as he could, but his legs got crushed. There were other guys around and they tried lifting it off of him but it was really heavy. They said the paramedics arrived with the jaws of life in just enough time to save my dad.”

  Tears flood my eyes. I stare at the white tiled floor and try to concentrate on not getting sick to my stomach. Dad is all bandaged and casted but I don’t even want to imagine what his legs look like underneath it all. Or the unimaginable pain he was in before the ambulance got to him and gave him medication.

  “Holy shit,” Zach breathes. “Wow. Oh my God.”

  He rests his head in his hands for a second and then looks up at me. “I’m so glad he’s alive.”

  “Me too,” I say. Hot tears are on the verge of spilling out of my tired eyes. I’ve cried so much lately and I’m sick of it.

  “Why did you come here? You could have just called and gotten the information.”

  He looks me dead in the eyes. “Would you have answered?”

  I swallow. “Probably not.”

  “So I had to come,” he says all matter of factly.

  I heave a sigh. “What about your career? What about Team Loco?”

  He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Really?” I say sarcastically. “It’s the reason you left me in the first place.”

  “Okay,” he says, exhaling. He really does look like he feels like shit, which makes me a little happy. “It does matter. But only because it’s my career. It’s the only thing I’m good at and it’s how I earn money to make a life for myself.” His eyes drift up to mine. “To make a life for us. If you’d have me.”