Rocky Road Read online

  "Terrance?" I said, forcing lightness into my voice. I did a lot of that nowadays. "Yeah, you never stop talking about him."

  "He asked me to move in with him," she said quickly.

  "In Phoenix?"

  "Avondale. Yeah. He's come to visit a few times, and we've really hit it off."

  "That's amazing, Tanya. Wow." I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. I would not cry. Not now. I'd shed too many tears lately.

  "I know, right? I didn't expect it."

  "What did you say?"

  "Well, that's the thing…" She glanced at my booted feet, then her gaze flicked up to my face. "I don't want to leave you before you're ready."

  Tanya had somehow wormed her way under my skin, becoming part of an inner circle that hadn't even existed before my accident. At various points in this journey I could have seen kicking her out angrily, or begging her to stay, but now I saw how neither of those options were right. She was like a mother to me—better—as my own mother hadn't even called to check on how I was.

  It wasn't easy to think about, but I had to let Tanya go. "I'm healing faster than the doctors thought I would."

  "You are. I've never seen a tougher woman than you, either."

  "You've stuck with me through it all." My voice cracked at the end of this, leaving a raspy whisper in it's place.

  Tanya's smile wavered. "It was nothing."

  "Oh, it was something in those early days. I was not a happy camper," I said, back to my sarcastic tone.

  Tanya waved me off. "I don't blame you. You got hit by a car. By the way, did they ever catch the guy?"

  "Not yet." The police had questioned me after the accident, but hadn't gotten a hold of me since. I wasn't sure I wanted to know who the person was, or his story. Sure, it was healthy to deal with some of your problems, but a strong dose of avoidance didn't hurt at times. I was sure this was one of those times. At least for now. Maybe later, once the pain ebbed and the loneliness faded, I could deal with that.

  "When they do, I'll hold him down so you can ram him in the gut with your chair."

  At this, I couldn't help laughing, a huge, shaking belly laugh. I lifted my left leg and moved it to the side to make myself more comfortable. This simple movement was not one I could have done weeks ago, but now I could. It was because of Tanya, not just physically, but mentally, too. "You need to go move in with your boytoy."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Woman, if you don't do this, the me you saw six weeks ago will pale in comparison to the monster I will become. Capiche?"

  Tanya nodded, wiping away tears from the corner of her eyes. "I don't want to waste any more time, you know?"

  I knew. Even I was feeling that, and I was half Tanya's age. Before we could launch into a more serious conversation, the race started. For the first hour, we watched the cars go around and around and around. I found the oval races a lot more boring than the road races because the cars stayed closer together in the oval. There were a few crashes, nothing serious—just glancing blows. Every time I cringed and covered my eyes. Every time Tanya would say, "It's not her."

  "I know, but still. Those poor drivers."

  Billie's car fell to the back of the pack. It didn't look like she was racing poorly, though the commentators were talking about her crash, about how she was letting up around the corners. Out of habit, I took to her social media page to check what people were saying. It contained a fair amount of bashing from idiots who thought she was over-rated and a lot of support from others.

  Support. Billie would never see that. I wanted to show her.

  Suddenly, I regretted my decision to stay home. I set down my phone. "She sent me a pass to the race, you know."

  "Hm?" Tanya asked, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth from the dregs of the bowl.

  "She gave me a ticket. Told me she missed me and she wanted me back."

  Tanya's huge eyes widened so it looked like they took up half her face. "Why didn't you go?"

  "It didn't feel right. But I wish I was there," I admitted.

  "Did you tell her you weren't going to be there?"

  My stomach crawled. "No—I—should I have?"

  "I don't know, but it seems to me like she was reaching out to you."

  Well, I wasn't there and I couldn't fix that now, nor was I sure I would if I had the chance, but I could reach back. I brought up the browser on my phone and scrolled through all the flower shops in the Indianapolis and Speedway areas (yes, there was a town called Speedway). I brought up one that looked like it was close to the raceway and called. "Do you deliver?" I asked.

  The woman balked at the address when I told her.

  "Here's the thing, I'm in love with one of the drivers, and I need to show her I care. Can you do this?"

  I took a risk. It could have gone either way in the Midwest—well, anywhere, really. But the woman listened to my story and by the end agreed to deliver the flowers at no extra charge.

  "It will be a fun challenge," she said.

  Tanya laughed to herself as I hung up the phone. The rest of the race went by quickly. Billie managed to overtake half the field, but then had a pit stop. The commentators were talking about fuel strategy, but even though I'd been to the track a few times and had dated a racer, half the words were good as German to me. I couldn't understand.

  What I could understand was Billie as she inched forward, as she passed all those macho man drivers who acted like Godzilla outside of their cars. What I could understand was how she slipped between two cars when it looked like there was no space. How she didn't take a pit stop when everyone else did. How the commentators got so excited they sounded like they were going to jump through their microphones. I understood when she crossed the finish line before all the rest.

  Tanya jumped out of her chair, swinging her hips in a dance. I did my own little dance from the couch as Billie's car spun in Victory Lane. I couldn't stop a wide brimming smile from coming over my face.

  You did it, baby. You did it.

  Oh my god. I wished I could have been there, running to her, jumping into her arms, wrapping my legs around her. Instead, I watched from the couch. Tears streamed down my face. She'd done it. She'd wanted it and she'd done it. Everyone had doubted her, but she had shown them all.

  My eyes were glued to the screen as I watched her walk to the podium, her team members behind her. As I watched them dump water over her. As I watched her pump her fists in the air. I tried to hold back my tears, but they were coming faster now. And they turned up to waterfall status when someone walked on to the stage and handed her a bunch of flowers. During her speech thanking her team, I watched as she peeked at the tag. As she stopped for a moment. As the tears ran down her face, too.

  "What's next?" someone called.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  BILLIE

  Who in her right mind showed up at someone's door when they weren't wanted? Me, that's who. Maybe that was my next trick—showing up at people's doors. Like those people with the big checks. How did one apply for those types of jobs? Would it be any fun? I smiled at the image of myself in that job and smoothed my hair back in the window. Before I chickened out, I knocked.

  I was ready to launch into my spiel when a woman opened the door.

  "You aren't… umm… is Krysta Ekert here?" I asked.

  "Who?"

  "The woman who used to live here?"

  "Oh, the girl in the wheel chair? We switched apartments. She's downstairs."

  "Thanks," I said, cutting her off. I took the stairs as quickly as I could, two at a time. Only then did I notice the short ramp up the single step to the door below. I'd missed it while trying to squelch my nerves.

  Nerves were a new thing to me, something I'd never let get to me on the track. Now, I was letting myself feel the butterflies in my stomach, the breathlessness, the shakes in my legs. The things I would have once considered a weakness, that might have gotten me killed once. It was part of my new initiative to find out what wa
s me. The nerves doubled as I rang the doorbell.

  No sound came from inside. A kid played basketball behind me. I must have waited two minutes. Fifty-seven basketball dribbles and three missed shots.

  I rang the bell again, just in case. Maybe, if she didn't answer, I would play basketball with that kid until she came home or left. Would that be stalkerish? Could I stalk my stalker? Why hadn't I called first?

  The door opened on Krysta wearing a bathrobe and sitting in her chair, her hair wet. "Sorry, I—Billie? Oh, my God. You're here."

  "I'm here," I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets. I hadn't planned much beyond actually getting here.

  "You should be in…" Krysta squeezed one eye shut. "Michigan was it? Or Texas?"

  "You memorized the schedule." This seemed like a good thing to say in my head but as it came out of my mouth, it sounded weak. Pathetic.

  "You cut your hair."

  I touched my head, mussing my short layers. "Do you like it?"

  "I love it. It's so you. You have the perfect face for it."

  We existed in silence for a moment—her rolling back and forth in her chair, me standing there with my hands in my pockets.

  "Do you want to come in?" she asked.

  "I… I wanted to thank you for the flowers."

  "You came all the way to Florida for that? A card would have sufficed, you know."

  "No, it wouldn't have." I stepped forward, squatting so our faces were on the same level. "I know sending you that pass was out of line. I should have—"

  "I'm going to stop you right there."

  I swallowed. This was what I got for waiting so long. She didn't want me. She hadn't come because she didn't want to see me. "I quit," I said.

  "No, no, no." She frowned. "You can't do that."

  "I did."

  "Please don't tell me you did it for me."

  My stomach twisted and flipped and did all the things stomachs did when they were nervous. My palms were so sweaty they could have grown moss. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for me. You were just the first person I wanted to tell once I'd done it."

  "But you love racing."

  "I loved some things about it, but my heart wasn't in it anymore. You helped me see there were other things out there."

  Krysta looked away. Her jawline was so beautiful. I wanted to pepper her with kisses, to pick her up and carry her inside and do what I'd been dreaming of doing the whole plane ride there.

  "I didn't come to the race because I thought we needed a change of scenery to do this right," she said.

  "You were right."

  "And I didn't want to distract you again."

  I picked up her hand, squeezing it in mine. "You are not a distraction. I know my father talked to you and he was wrong. We were all wrong. Krysta, I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you don't matter, like you came second to anything. You don't. I can't explain my behavior other than to say it was unacceptable. I need you to know I'll never make you feel like that again."

  Krysta's nostrils flared. I could see her fighting the tears. "Damn it, Billie. I was going to be so strong and punchy if you ever came back."

  I gathered her into my arms, pulling her against me in a hug. "You are strong. You're the strongest woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

  "It's not going to be easy," she said, her breath raising goosebumps on my neck.

  I pulled away enough to see her face. "You're telling me. I just quit everything I thought I cared about in life."

  Krysta shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. Then she leaned forward and took my lips in her mouth. It was like a drink after a long and hot race. It was refreshing and cool and calm and conveyed so much love and affection I thought my chest would burst. Was this what I had been missing when I was too caught up in my own crap? I promised myself never to take it for granted again.

  She pulled away and took my chin in her hands. "If there's anything I learned after the accident it's this. What you just did might have smashed your identity, your past, but now you have the power. Whatever you create I know it will be spectacular because you, my dear, have a beautiful heart."

  "How can you think that after what I did to you?"

  She shrugged. "You showed me who you really are over the course of our relationship. You took care of me. One moment doesn't change that. You're human."

  How could she be so impossibly wise? I leaned forward and scooped her from her chair. She squealed before I caught her mouth in mine. I pulled away only to navigate the doorway. "At least I know what I'm doing in the next five minutes."

  "Oh yeah? What?"

  "You."

  Krysta's eyes sparkled as she took my shirt in her hands and pulled me toward her in a kiss. Even then, after all I'd seen of her, I marveled at her strength and determination to get what she wanted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  KRYSTA

  The sun streamed like a spotlight on Billie's back as she sat in my kitchen chair, drinking the coffee she had brewed and reading the paper. I still couldn't believe she was here in my house. It had been a whole week. A whole week of lovemaking and figuring out how to live together when neither of us had anything else to do.

  It wasn't all sunshine and roses, but today, it was. Literally. Sunshine on the last of the roses I'd sent her, that she had somehow brought with her all the way from Indiana.

  "What are you going to do next?" I asked.

  "You're just asking that because you're sick of me in the house all the time. I know your evil ways, Krys." Billie folded up the paper and set it neatly next to her place of bacon and eggs and toast.

  "Yup. That's accurate. You're starting to get on my nerves."

  "If you want me to leave…" She stood. "All you have to do is ask."

  "No," I said, catching her arm.

  She laughed and settled back down in her seat. "You have no poker face. You should work on that if you want to become a brand developer." She stuffed a bite of eggs in her mouth, closing her eyes and moaning.

  "We're not talking about me," I said, though that moan was driving me wild. "We're talking about you."

  She swallowed the bite of her eggs. "I actually have been thinking a little."

  "Have you?" I raised an eyebrow.

  "Stop it." She swatted at me. "Yes, I have been thinking about what's next. You know, my favorite part of racing was being a role model for girls. I'm thinking about taking my winnings money, what's left of it after I pay everyone to get out of my contracts, and starting a foundation to help girls find what they want in life. Or maybe there's an organization out there that already does that, one that I could join and invest in. That way the status from my win wouldn't go to waste."

  "That's… amazing."

  "Don't look so shocked."

  "I'm not. I knew you were brilliant and kind."

  "Do you think it's a good idea?"

  There was something tentative about Billie ever since she had come back. It was the very opposite of what had attracted me to her, but now I saw this was part of her vulnerability with me. She was letting me see a part of her no one had ever seen before. I had to tend to that part of her like a small plant. "I think it's a great idea. If you want, I can start helping you with research."

  Billie took a long swig of her orange juice. "I'd love that. As long as it doesn't interfere with your work."

  "Oh, my God."

  "What?"

  "We are that sick couple. Look at us!"

  "What's so sick?"

  "Do you remember the first time we met? How we both insisted we didn't want a relationship? Now, we're sitting eating scrambled eggs and talking about the future."

  "So?"

  I swallowed. "You don't miss… you don't miss the thrill?"

  "Not at all."

  "Really?" This was what I'd been afraid of. Sure, we were in this honeymoon phase now, but she would get bored eventually. That restlessness would creep up on her until she blew like a volcano. My question was, would it
happen before or after I got out of this chair? Would I be able to chase after her when it happened?

  Billie put down her fork and picked up my hand, holding it in both of hers. "I'm never returning to racing."

  "What if someone else comes along? Someone more interesting?"

  Billie squeezed my hand. "I don't want someone more interesting. I want you. Plus, I'm the boring one here."

  My heartbeat thrummed. "It's not going to be an easy road ahead."

  Billie shrugged. "Who said anything about easy?"

  "Come on—"

  "Krysta. Stop. I'm not going anywhere."

  I searched her eyes, her eyes that had never once lied to me even when her mouth had. All I could find there was love.

  "In fact," she said, standing. "Stay there. I'll be right back."

  I watched as she walked through her apartment, her bare feet padding against the wooden floors, her hips shifting with every step. I hoped someday I would be able to chase after her and jump on her back, wrestling her to the ground. That sounded like something we would do together in the future. Even that simple action sounded glorious to me, and so out of reach.

  Billie returned a few moments later with a square box tied with a pink ribbon. Instead of going back to her chair, she knelt on one knee in front of me. My fingers tingled with anticipation, though the box wasn't small enough to be jewelry.

  "Krysta Ekert," Billie said, opening the top of the box. "Will you marry me?"

  Jewel-toned lace burst from the top of the box, spilling over the side. I slung my finger through one of the straps and lifted the smallest pair of underwear I'd ever seen into the air. "You want me to wear this?"

  Billie frowned. "You don't remember?"

  "Of course I remember. I believe I specified wide bands."

  "Oh, my God, Krysta, if you don't answer my question I'm going to hang these outside your door for all the neighborhood kids to see."

  What? Oh, lord. She had asked me to marry her. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I blinked. "You're serious?"