by Anne Hansen
“Maybe.”
I hang up before I say more than I should and thumb through Mom’s black book, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it three times. I find a name and number that Dad would go apeshit over if he even thought I might be looking at it. I punch it into my phone and wait a dozen rings before someone picks up. It’s a perky-sounding secretary. I imagine a redhead in pincurls with tattoos and scarlet lipstick.
That would be Red’s type.
I wait while she goes to get him, and when he picks up on the other end, his voice sounds like home.
“Is that you, Keira?” he yells.
Red is old-fashioned. I bet he’s talking to me on an ancient rotary phone. He still always yells into the receiver like that’ll make it any easier to hear him.
“It’s me, Red. I’ve missed you.”
His voice goes quiet—which just means he’s yelling a little softer. “I’m real sorry about your mama, kid. She was one in a million.”
“I appreciate that, Red. I still miss her every single day.” I clear my throat and shut the door to my room even though I know my father isn’t home. “I was calling because I have a favor to ask you. It’s sort of a big one, and you can one hundred percent say ‘no’ if you don’t feel comfortable…”
“Kid, you could ask me to lie, steal, or murder, and I’d say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. Your granddad did me more favors over the course of his life than I’ll be able to repay if I live as long as you do. And I’m getting pretty damn old. Hit me with your best.”
“Remember how you and Granddad used to race the strip out in the desert? Mama brought me out a few summers, and Granddad had a few cars he used just for those races?”
I hold the phone tight, knowing this is a longshot on top of Vin’s longshot. But we’re between a rock and a hard place, and I don’t have any clue what a better plan might be, so I go with this.
“I dream about those days, little girl. Man, you had the gift, didn’t you? Always said it was a shame you didn’t train to race professionally. Some have it in their blood, some don’t. You have it in your soul.”
I laugh because Red always had a touch of drama when it came to racing. “Granddad said it was better to get an education. He regretted never finishing school. And my father thought it was too dangerous.”
Red grunts. “Just as dangerous as half-living the only life God gave us. Enough about that, though. Tell me how I can help you out.”
“I have a friend who needs to take his best shot in a drag race, and I was hoping—if you weren’t too busy—you could help him out, give him a few pointers. I know I wouldn’t have been half the racer I was without you there helping me.” I gnaw on my bottom lip, waiting.
“Hell, kid, I’ll do you one better. I’ll get my ass out there and give your buddy a one-on-one tutorial, Red Jessup style. You just tell me the when and where and I’ll get a posse organized.”
My heart starts to hammer. What will my father say if he knows I connected up with my granddad’s friends, the ones he and Mom used to argue about whenever she and I came back from visiting her family? Will Vin even accept Red’s help? Should I be encouraging any of this stupid, crazy behavior?
I look at Mom’s picture, her big, bold, gorgeous smile. What would you do, Mom?
It may be a play of the light or the shadows in the room, but I swear she winks at me.
“How can I ever thank you for this Red?”
“Shit, sweetie! Thank you for getting my bored old ass out of this desert for some fun. I can’t wait to see you behind the wheel again!”
***
“So you called your grandfather’s old racing buddy, and he’s driving across the country from Arizona to teach your on-again off-again boyfriend how to be a better drag racer?” David staggers across my room and falls on the bed. He and Lily remind me of those Victorian ladies and their fainting couches the way they gasp and fake swoon, tumbling all over each other. I’m so picking up smelling salts for their Christmas gifts. “Do you have any idea what an awesome movie your life would make?”
“Yeah, so awesome,” I mutter. “Especially the exciting climax where I flunk out of pre-calc. Can we focus? I’m so freaking lost.”
“You were doing great a few weeks ago,” David says slyly. He taps a finger against his chin. “I wonder why you’re in so much trouble now?”
“I heard Mrs. Delina talking to Vin. He’s not going to his tutoring sessions with the new tutor,” Lily reports.
“Stop,” I say, my voice firm. “If Vin wants to throw away all the hard work he did, that’s his problem. Tutoring him was interfering with my schoolwork.”
“Likely excuse,” David drawls, flipping through his math text without looking at the pages. “When you were tutoring Vin, you were acing pre-calc.”
“Well, I can’t rely on him to help me now. Which is why I asked you guys over. So, back on task. Now. Or you can go home,” I threaten.
David laughs my threat off. “Unfortunately, Lily and I are your only hope if you want to pass. Wow. That’s just plain sad. Okay. I guess we should get to work.”
We hammer away at the pages until my eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of my skull.
“Enough! If I see one more sideways parabola, I’m going to rip my hair out.” I shove the textbook away, frustrated and pissed in general.
“Agreed. I’ve had all the tangent lines I can handle. Lily, ready to jet?” David and Lily say their good-byes, and I bury my face in my pillow, wondering what I’ll do if I really fail. Does Eastside have a summer school option?
I’m about to give myself a much-needed ice cream break when there’s a light knock on my door. “Dad!” I jump up from the bed, feeling a nervousness that I can’t push back down. “What are you doing here?”
“They cut me loose early, hon.” He’s smiling wide as he comes to sit next to me. “We were having a little bit of a celebration.”
“A celebration?” I sit up and pay attention. Things have been really strained between my father and me since we argued about Vin. I know there’s been a ton weighing on him—he barely had time to mourn Mom before he jumped right back to work, then lost his job, and had this entire move to deal with. He’s been giving the new job his all, but I haven’t really had a good grasp on how he’s doing there. “That’s great!”
“It is.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “You know, I thought I’d failed you when I lost my job in Stony Brook, thought I’d have to throw my hat in with these young crazies and make the best of it. But I underestimated them. This company, the work they’re doing—the work I’m helping them do—is buzzing. Our stock has gone way up, and we’re having buyout interest.”
“Is that good?” I ask, not sure if Dad would want a company he clearly likes so much to be bought out this soon.
“Well, maybe.” He loosens his tie. “If they offer us what Janie—my boss—thinks they will, we could be in a really nice spot. Plus that, there’s a pretty strong indication the company would keep us on to run things after the buyout. Even an ancient grandpa like your old man. Apparently something about my retro marketing style gave us an edge.”
“Dad, that’s wonderful news,” I say, putting my hand on his. “I’m so happy for you.”
“And, better yet, I did a little looking around in our old stomping grounds. Now, we wouldn’t jump right into something too big. Tell you the truth, I feel more comfortable thinking about a nice apartment or gated condo complex where you’d have neighbors close by to watch out for you anyway. But I’m sure the headmistress at Mallory would be open to letting one of the school’s best students back in, even if you’ve missed some time—”
“Dad, wait a minute,” I cut in. “I thought you said you weren’t sure this buyout would even happen?”
“I’m not, sweetie. But it’s probable. And if it happens, I want you back where you belong sooner rather than later. Even if I have to take out some loans and repay them, the money will be coming. It’s high time to get ou
r lives back on track, Keira.”
Back to Mallory, the school I loved and knew since I was in kindergarten. Back to our old neighborhood where you could stroll the parks at 2AM and know you were safe. Back to the place I felt cherished and safe in for so many years.
I should feel like luck just landed at my feet.
Instead I feel a rush of regret.
“I made friends here, Dad. I really like school.” I watch his face fall. “What is it?”
He speaks slowly, and his voice is tired. “I know very well the reason you’d want to stay here—”
“Dad you don’t know what’s been going on. I haven’t even seen Vin in weeks, other than at school—”
“I know what it feels like to be young and in love, but there’s your future to think of—”
“And I think jumping from house to house before we even know all the facts is crazy, Dad. I just got settled in here. You don’t know for sure that this deal will come through, and you’re already planning a big, expensive move. Life kept going at Mallory without me. I’m not just going to be able to crash back there in the middle of the year and pick up where I left off.”
My father scrubs his hand over his face. “Honey, I’m doing my best here, okay? I know you feel loyalty to these people, and they’ve been welcoming. But they’re not our people.”
My spine stiffens at that. “Our people. What exactly does that mean, Dad?”
“Don’t be like that, Keira.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some ogre,” Dad snaps. “You’re young and idealistic, and you think everyone has a heart of gold. I don’t want to burst your bubble, sweetie, but a lot of people aren’t as nice as you think they are.” He puts his arm around my shoulders. “You remind me of your mother. She always had a soft spot for people who weren’t necessarily the best for her.”
I shrug off his arm. “Like Red?” I ask, my voice hard and heavy with ice.
“Red Jessup,” Dad mutters. “What made you think of him?”
“I spoke to him the other day,” I admit.
Dad stares at me. “What are you talking about? What would you need to contact Red about?”
“A friend of mine needs help, and I knew Red might be able to give him a hand.” I can feel my chin tilting up. I’ve never been what anyone would describe as a rebel, but I guess I’ve never had anything—or anyone—I felt so passionately about before.
Vin hasn’t been perfect by any stretch of the imagination.
He hasn’t been the easiest to get along with, and he’s pushed me away when he should have had faith in me.
But he’s taken care of me, even when he thought it was a bad idea. He’s been loyal to me even when he wanted to protect me by giving us distance. I’m not sure if I can ever be with him in any permanent way, but I know for sure I can’t let him down when he needs me most.
“Keira,” my father says, and I can tell he’s working very hard to keep his voice under control. “I don’t know what kind of ‘help’ this…friend of yours might need, but reaching out to Red Jessup was inappropriate.”
“Why?” I demand. “Red didn’t even hesitate when I asked for help, Dad. He’s a good person.”
“He’s an unhinged person,” Dad grits out. “I can’t tell you how many times he got your mother into situations that were completely unsafe.”
“What makes you think Mom didn’t get into those situations herself?” I ask. “Mom was a strong, confident woman, Dad. I have a hard time picturing her getting led around by someone else.”
“You didn’t know your mother the way I did, Keira. There are so many things a parent keeps from a child.” My father reaches for my hand again, but I yank it away.
“I think you might be the one who didn’t know Mom as well as you think,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face. “She loved taking chances. She loved living on the edge. Mom didn’t ever back down.”
Dad stands and shakes his head. “Yes she did. She backed down when she realized she was pregnant with you, honey. She realized she couldn’t keep taking risks the way she had been, so she stopped. That’s what we do when we grow up. We give up childish things, childish wants. We face our futures and do what’s right. Trust me, that’s what your mother would want you to do right now.” He walks to my door, and turns before he walks through the doorway. “You’re not to see Red while he’s here, understood? I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. As for the move, we’ll put a pin in it for now, but if this buyout goes forward, you need to be prepared to leave Eastside.”
He walks out without waiting for me to answer him.
Not that there’s anything to say.
I never want to disrespect my father, but he’s all wrong. About Vin, about Red, about Eastside, about Mom. My father sees one path and one path only, and if he wants to walk that path, I guess I can’t stop him. But I’ll be eighteen in a few short weeks. I’ll be an adult, and it may be time for me to grow up and do what’s best for me.
I screech to a stop, gravel flying up and bouncing against the doors of the car. I’m past worrying about things like chipped paint and stripped brakes. All I care about is what Leo sees on the stopwatch.
He looks down grimly, and I know the answer before I have to ask.
Leo walks over to the car and I let my head bash into the steering wheel. “I’m screwed, right? Just say it.”
“We can do better,” Leo assures me.
“How?” I bite out. “We’re barely pulling in qualifying times based on last year’s results.” I slam the door and kick at the gravel, all my hope pretty much dead. There’s no way I can do this, make this work, and I don’t have another option.
“Is it your car? Can your uncle let you borrow something faster?” Leo asks, but he’s grasping at straws and we both know it.
“He’s blackballed me. Since I came back from the Lombardis’ empty handed, he said I’m dead to him. That my dad will have to sweat the money I owe out turning wrenches for the rest of his life.” I brace my hands against the hood, too hot from an engine I’m driving harder than I should.
“What’s your dad say?” Leo twirls the stopwatch around his finger.
“What does my dad ever say? Nothing. He just works, like he always does.” I pinch the bridge of my nose because I feel like there’s an icepick slammed into my brain. “He’s one of those people who thinks hard work and doing what’s right honestly solve everything.”
Like Keira, I think. She and my dad both have this idea that you can make anything work, that good will prevail, all that bullshit.
The truth is, the bad guys have more power than anyone wants to admit, and if you want to get ahead, you have to be willing to play dirty.
Not that I like it. That fact is what keeps me focused on putting good people—like Keira—out of the way of bad people—like me.
For now.
The truth is, I’m tired of where I’m at. What I am. I’m ready to be something more. But my car isn’t fast enough and my driving isn’t steady enough, so my one shot at “something more” might be over before it even starts.
“And I guess your dad and Dom can’t really help with the mechanic portion?” Leo doesn’t even look up at me when he asks.
“No, man, I can’t ask them that. They’re swamped with regular work. Both of them pull seventeen, eighteen hour days every day, no weekends off, no breaks. Plus, where would they work on it? Gio’s got his fucking informants everywhere, and he’d put a stop to it.” I rub my temples, not sure what the hell we can do now.
“Maybe we can try adjusting the tire pressure?” Leo suggests, squinting at the tires. “Maybe it’ll make things easier to—”
He stops short, stands up straight, and watches as a 68 Dodge Dart, black and shiny, shudders into the driveway. A man with wiry gray hair sticking up all over his head and a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots steps out of the car, walks over to Leo and says, “You Vin Moretti?”
“N-n-no, sir,” Leo stutters, a
nd points to me.
I glare at Leo—damn coward selling me down the river—and nod to the man, who looks at me over the top of a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
“I’m Vin Moretti.”
The man looks me up and down and laughs. “Hell, Keira picked the kinda guy I always imagined her mama’d end up with.” He puts a hand out, and I shake, a little shocked at just how firm his grip is. “You’re no computer nerd, that’s for sure.”
“No, sir,” I answer. “You said you know Keira?”
“Held her in my arms when she was a wee thing, helped her ride a bike with no training wheels, and taught her everything I know and love about racing cars,” the guy says, whipping his sunglasses off. He’s got wrinkles all around his eyes, like he never stops smiling. In fact, he’s smiling right now. “Red Jessup at your service. My girl Keira tells me you need some help with racing?”
“I do,” I say, too shocked to say more.
Leo can barely contain his excited grin.
“Well, I’m the man to help you.” He nods to my car. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
***
Three hours later, I’m pretty sure what I’ve got will never pass Red’s inspection. He’s made me call five different people whose numbers he knew off the top of his head, but who he couldn’t call because he has no cell.
Who the hell has no cell nowadays?
“They’re local guys. You’re lucky I have as many East Coast contacts as I do. They’ll be able to see what we can do.” He walks around my car, stroking the hood, caressing the tires, speaking to it in low tones like he’s the damn Mustang whisperer. “We just gotta wait for them. How long you have this beauty?”
“Since last summer,” I say as I watch him circle my car again and again. “A birthday gift from my old man.”
I lied to the cop that night I found Keira at the park. I regret a lot about that night, but that lie—about that boosted car being a gift from my dad—stung the most for some reason. I have no idea why that would worry me any more than anything else, but it just made me feel cheap. Sleazy. Like a bone deep criminal instead of just an opportunistic one.