She looked up at me, pleased as punch with herself for being like Daddy.
“There’s something missing,” I said, staring at her thoughtfully.
Her gaze trailed over her outfit. “Nah-uh.”
“Yah-huh,” I said. I ran my finger over the carburettor I was working on, and then ran a small trail of grease over her cheek.
She squealed with laughter before declaring I was missing it too. Obliging her, I ran my finger over my cheek as well.
I really enjoyed showing Phoebe a little bit more of that side of myself and was surprised about how proud I felt about the smallest things she did that demonstrated she was paying attention to me. Like when she explained to Alyssa what the rattle gun was for minutes after I had given a demonstration. I joked with her that she would be able to start an apprenticeship under me one day. The earnest look of pure excitement she gave me in response was enough to melt my heart.
ON SUNDAY morning, I set my alarm super early and woke to do the Easter Bunny thing. I littered a course of Easter eggs around the house. It started with a trail of tiny eggs and powdered “rabbit tracks” from her bedroom door, leading to slightly bigger eggs down the staircase, and finally to a collection of large eggs and a rabbit in the living room.
I padded quietly back to the bedroom and waited for Phoebe to wake up. I knew the instant that she realised what was waiting outside her door—I think the whole neighbourhood did. She squealed excitedly then ran into our room at top speed and skidded to a halt in front of our bed. She already had chocolate smeared across her mouth and a wide grin on her face.
“The Easter Bunny camed!” she shouted excitedly. “He left me lots of chocolates! Dey’re everywhere! Come see!” She grabbed one of my hands and one of Alyssa’s and pulled us from the bed. I wrapped my arms around Alyssa and walked in step with her. I was grinning widely because she had yet to see my handiwork.
“Oh, my . . .” Alyssa gasped as we came to the staircase and she saw the trail of eggs running down the stairs.
I suppressed a chuckle and released her in order to chase after Phoebe who was halfway down the stairs and babbling about the rest of the eggs she got. She stopped on each stair, picked up the egg, and put it with the ever-growing pile that she was gathering in a makeshift basket she made with the front of her nightgown.
Alyssa covered her face with her hands when she saw the contents of the living room. She spun toward me quickly, staring at me with one eyebrow cocked. “The Easter Bunny really went over the top this year, didn’t he?”
I shrugged.
“It’s mores than I got last year!” Phoebe exclaimed, picking up one of the giant rabbits that sat on the couch.
“How about you go and find them all and take them into the kitchen?” Alyssa said to Phoebe.
I turned to help, but Alyssa stopped me. “Daddy and I need to have a little talk.”
I gulped as I spun back to Alyssa. She had her arms crossed and a “what the hell were you thinking” look on her face. I shrugged again and gave her an “I’m new to this and wanted to make it memorable, really . . . I’m innocent” look.
We were certainly getting the non-verbal communication thing down pat.
I stepped closer to her. “I acknowledge that I may have gone a little bit over the top,” I murmured as I wrapped my arms around her waist. I wasn’t above using tools that Dr. Henrikson had given us to show her I was serious. “I couldn’t help it though, I got a little excited.” I ducked my head to meet her eye.
Alyssa looked up at me, and I could see the shock and anger had melted away a little in the face of my admission. “She would have been happy with one or two eggs and then to just spend the day with you,” she said exasperatedly.
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t go quite so over the top next year.” I drew a little cross over my heart.
“I’ll hold you to it.” She smiled, and I knew I was out of the doghouse.
Thank Christ.
We managed to convince Phoebe to put the chocolate down long enough to eat a healthy breakfast and get changed to ready ourselves for the arrival of our lunch guests.
Morgan and Eden arrived first. Phoebe practically threw herself into Eden’s arms and wished her a happy Easter. Soon after, the rest of my motley crew—Calem, Sam, Ryan, Mia, and Johnno—turned up. A couple of girls from Alyssa’s work were the last ones to show. Apparently, Alyssa had invited the one girl she was friendly with, who had in turn invited the other girls in the office. I immediately recognised one of them as the girl from the bar in London. I felt Alyssa bristle beside me as I said hello, but Lily seemed as willing as I was to put the incident behind us and not mention it at all.
I stoked up the BBQ and passed around a few beers. Before I knew it, there was a party in full swing.
I made sure I didn’t leave all the hosting duties to Alyssa; instead, I mingled and served drinks. I entertained Phoebe and got her to help me out a little—just simple things like grabbing food from the kitchen and drinks from the eskies. I noticed Alyssa approach Morgan and Eden and strike up a tentative conversation. I knew that Alyssa and Morgan would never be best friends, but at least they were being civil and trying to put their differences behind them, which meant the world to me.
At one point during the afternoon, I had Alyssa under one arm and the other around Phoebe. As I watched over our friends mingling with one another, I couldn’t believe how shockingly and absolutely domestic my life had become. As much as I would have been loath to admit it a few months earlier, I was in my fucking element and blissed the fuck out. Aside from a few special days with Alyssa and Phoebe, I couldn’t think of a day when I’d had a better time.
When evening started to close in on our little party, most of the people started to leave; although Eden and Morgan stayed for the clean-up, which was greatly appreciated. After the paper plates were discarded and the dishwasher was running, Alyssa, Eden, and Phoebe raced upstairs for some girly shit to do with the wedding, so Morgan and I sat to have a beer.
“Man, can you believe how different your life is now?” he asked.
I laughed. “I was just thinking that earlier. Last Easter . . .” I trailed off with a shudder as I recalled my adventures of the previous Easter. Sure I’d thought it was fun at the time, but it just couldn’t compare now.
“I’m thinking about doing it.” Morgan choked. His face was earnest, but his wide eyes and tight lips made him look dreadfully afraid.
“Doing what exactly?” I had a suspicion, but I wanted to make him suffer.
“Asking Edie.” He made the strange choking sound again. “To marry me, I mean.” His voice squeaked as the last few words escaped past his lips.
I grinned. “I guarantee it’ll be the best question you ever ask.”
He sat bolt upright and choked a little more—I was beginning to wonder if I needed to take the big-boy drinks off him. “Holy fuck! When did my little squirt grow up so much? I mean, sure you’re getting married and all, but fuck, to hear you talk about marriage as if it’s the best thing in the world . . . and you aren’t even married yet!”
I shrugged. “Man, marriage, kids, all that stuff. It’s scary as fuck, but it’s the biggest thing you will ever do with your life. More important than any fucking championship.”
He laughed. “Seriously, who are you and what the fuck have you done with Declan Reede?”
I sat grinning like the cat that got the cream. “The Declan Reede you knew . . . Well, he’s gone. I am the new and improved version.” I sat back and stretched out along the sofa.
“Well, new maybe.” He pretended to size me up. “Not sure about improved.”
“Fuck you!” I punched his arm.
He laughed. “Fuck you!” He punched me back.
We fell into our old dynamic and had a mock-wrestle in the living room before the girls came down to break us up. As we said goodbye, Morgan turned to me. “I’ll talk to you later for some more advice . . . about that thing.”
Alyssa quizzed me after he’d left, but I didn’t spill his secret. Over the years, he’d protected so many details about my life. I figured I at least owed him the same courtesy.
ON MONDAY, Alyssa and I took Phoebe to Luna Park. We had a great time—thanks in no small part to far too much fairy floss, dagwood dogs, and soft drinks. It was interesting to watch Phoebe on all the kiddie rides, but even more interesting to watch her sizing herself up against the adult rides and come away upset when she wasn’t quite tall enough for them.
In order to give her some thrills, I took her on the Tumble Bug and then on the Rotor. Her giggles and excited screams were all the reward I needed.
Both Alyssa and Phoebe laughed as I wrestled against the forces sticking us to the wall to try to get sideways. Phoebe begged to go on it again, but she was already looking decidedly green so we opted for the Ferris wheel instead.
After the Ferris wheel and the carousel, we went on to the bumper cars. The first time, I took Phoebe in the car with me and avoided the worst of the carnage. The second time, she was with Alyssa. Freed from the responsibility of making sure she didn’t get hurt on my watch, I took great joy in ramming into the other cars, especially any that came too close to my girls.
Overall, the weekend was fan-fucking-tastic. I was glad for the respite and the breathing space with my family, because a little over a week after Easter, I was heading to New Zealand for the Hamilton 400. It would be an excruciating torture for me for three reasons.
One, I would be away from my family.
Two, I would have to pit for Hunter.
And three, I wouldn’t even have the luxury of the Mini to escape from his fuckery.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FAMILIAR FEELING
THE HAMILTON 400 was every bit as horrid as I’d thought it would be.
Hunter rode my arse the whole time, never letting the opportunity to insult me, or Alyssa, pass. When we were around others, it always sounded mischievous and light-hearted, like when Morgan and I bantered, but as soon as we were alone—even momentarily—it took a darker turn. It took every ounce of my patience to not smack his smart-talking mouth.
It was hard, but somehow I managed to continue my resistance against assaulting him physically. I realised I had to fight him my own way—a way that wouldn’t get me in trouble with the Sinclair Racing brass—so I started tailing him to the nightclubs in town and cock-blocking him at every possible opportunity.
After all, what we did in our own spare time had nothing to do with the team, so I had the opportunity to get a bit of vengeance without repercussions—from the team at least. It didn’t even affect my family moments because of the two-hour time difference between New Zealand and Sydney. I was able to call home before I hit the town and again when I returned to the hotel.
He was so tense by the end of the weekend, it was fucking hilarious. Especially so, because I knew he was heading home to a lonely and empty house. I was going home to a lovely house, a beautiful daughter, and a highly fuckable fiancée who had missed me terribly. In fact, she’d demonstrated just how much during our late-night phone calls. We’d been practising our aural technique regularly and were at the point where it was almost as good as the real thing. Well, at least as good as I could expect without any skin-to-skin contact.
On top of avoiding Hunter at the track, and chasing him through the clubs, I spent the weekend trying to stay out of Morgan’s way. He was wound tighter than a tin soldier over some special plans he had for the trip. He’d arranged to stay a couple of days longer with Eden, but he wouldn’t tell me exactly what was happening. I knew they were heading to the Waitomo Glowworm Caves and figured that meant that somewhere beneath the dark earth, by the tiny light of thousands of glowworms, he was going to ask her a question that could change the course of both of their lives.
If that was the case, I couldn’t be happier for them.
My suspicions were confirmed a few days after arriving home when Eden called and squealed down the phone. She demanded I put Alyssa on, and the two of them squealed to each other again. I rolled my eyes at Phoebe, who giggled and reached out for me.
All I got in actual confirmation from Morgan was a text message. I did it. Best Man?
I laughed and texted back. Definitely.
APRIL HAD headed toward May much too quickly. As it did, Alyssa and I seemed to spend most of our time passing each other like ships in the night. I was putting in crazy hours at the office, and whenever I was lucky enough to be home at a reasonable hour, she was always on the phone with either Eden or Ruby. My own phone had been going crazy with phone calls from one Brisbane number. Although I didn’t know the number at first, the corresponding voicemail that arrived told me all I needed to know. Dad was trying to reach me, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him again. I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
Things started to look up a little when Alyssa booked flights to go to Brisbane for the weekend I was racing at Ipswich—at Queensland Raceway—for the first time since I’d begun crashing out. The thought that she’d be supporting me there, where I’d need it the most, left me ecstatic.
My excitement over her travelling to Brisbane with Phoebe was short-lived when I realised that she was going primarily to arrange some more of the finer details of the wedding—the things that were impossible to arrange over the phone.
She and Ruby had already lined up back-to-back meetings with the photographer to select the shots and locations for the photos, the bakery to choose the type of cake we would serve—I voted mud cake rather than that horrid fruit stuff—and with the decorators to pin down the colour for the bows for the fucking chairs or something.
It all boiled down to one simple truth: I wouldn’t get any quality time with her despite being on our old home turf. I would have to relive so many memories while at the track—of crashing for the first time ever, of the date I’d arranged for her after my return to Brisbane, of many visits during my youth—and I would have to do it all alone.
Fuck my life.
The team truck left for Ipswich on the last Wednesday in April with Danny in tow. The rest of the crew were flying up on Thursday morning to meet up at the track. I got permission to drive up on Wednesday night rather than leaving with the rest of them. It was a hard decision, because it meant an extra day away from Alyssa and driving would take a little longer. But it meant I would have my own car, which hopefully would leave me free to come and go from the track as I pleased to see my family at least a little.
The drive was long and lonely. I tried putting the radio on, but it did little to distract me from my thoughts. An uneasy feeling settled into me. I found myself stopping at every service station along the highway. I didn’t want to be on the darkened road anymore; it was making me mad. Something began to eat away at my sanity, but for the life of me I had no idea what that “something” was.
As I drove, I longed for some kind of peace. I longed to see Alyssa by my side and Phoebe giggling at me from the rear seat. Instead, the car was empty and silent. I drank more coffee and ate more shitty servo food than was probably healthy in a twelve-hour period. If I tried to think about my race, I inevitably became more wound up and would need to stop again.
When I arrived at the track on Thursday morning, I helped everyone with the set-up before heading to the hotel to sleep and prepare for my early start. I was due at the track for my first practise session at eight the following morning.
IT WAS hard to put the memories of my first DNF out of my head as I drove around the all-too-familiar track of Queensland Raceway. I’d learned the cause of it I was now able to deal with; Alyssa was back by my side, Flynn wasn’t the love rival I’d thought he was, and I had mostly come to terms with the stupid decisions I had made to get Alyssa and me to that point. But knowing the reasons for my crash didn’t help when I drove that section of the track. The crash itself played over and over in my head. Back then, if
I’d been killed in an accident, I probably would have welcomed death, but now I had too much to lose.
Instead of focusing on that first DNF, I tried to think of other times I had driven the track, like on my date with Alyssa, but it was no good. At the time, I’d had her presence in the car to distract me while I was driving.
I didn’t have that anymore.
There was nothing to distract me in my Mini. There was nothing except my own mind and the squawking of the radio to offer me companionship—and my mind wasn’t good company away from Alyssa.
I stumbled from the car once I got it off the track, feeling much worse for wear. My chest was tight, and I was beginning to feel the familiar constriction that had always pre-empted my panic attacks. I’d thought being on my home ground, so to speak, would help me. I’d thought Queensland Raceway would be the easiest track to conquer, but instead it was overpowering me. Even though I’d hoped to get the opportunity to prove myself on the track that was the most familiar to me of them all, it proved to have too many lingering ghosts.
After practise, I parked my Mini and walked away from it for a while, knowing I only had a few hours to get my head back in the game before my next practise session. This race meeting was going to be an extra-long one for me with four races in total—on top of the practises, qualifying, and my usual pit crew duties.
The next practise was just a little bit more calming. God knows how, but I managed to get around smoothly and without too much hassle. I found a groove on the track that I’d missed during the first session, but I still felt wildly off task. I should have been able to push it faster, but I just couldn’t. I wasn’t able to get my head into the game properly. Images of my first DNF, along with the sounds of the car hitting the wall, flooded my mind, and I felt like a failure.
Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series) Page 118