The next morning I tried to call Mom to clarify things, but she wasn’t home. I left a message then spent the next few hours at Kasey’s computer, typing up some old handwritten stories while Race was out running errands. He got back a little before noon.
“Hey, kid, c’mon up here,” he called down the basement steps. “I got us some lunch.”
The enticing scent of pepperoni greeted me as I hoofed it up to the kitchen, where Race had deposited two Cokes and a Track Town box on the table. He popped the lid, wiggled a slice loose, and dropped it onto a paper towel.
“This is an ‘I’m sorry’ pizza,” he explained. “Second cousin to the ‘get well’ pizza.”
I pulled out a chair and sat down. “You don’t owe me any apologies.”
“Yeah I do. Last night when Kasey said you were leaving . . .” Race hesitated, shaking his head as a sort of kicked-puppy look skulked across his face. “I guess that’s the first time it really hit me, how much my attitude was affecting you guys. I can’t say I’d blame you if you did want to leave.”
“Well, I don’t,” I said, pulling the tab on my Coke. “And you haven’t exactly got the monopoly on stupid behavior.”
Race grinned.
I reached into the box, taking a slice of pizza from the center of my half so there was little chance of it being contaminated by mushrooms or green peppers. Gooey mozzarella trailed behind, forming lifelines back to the mothership.
“I’ve been a real pain in the ass,” Race said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate the fact you haven’t given up on me. I’d like to think I can handle anything, but the truth is, I couldn’t have gotten through this without you and Kasey. It shakes me up to think about what it woulda been like if this had happened a couple years ago. I wouldn’t have had either one of you.”
Race’s words sent a flash flood of emotion through me. I was touched and embarrassed, but I didn’t know how to respond, so I stuffed my mouth full of pizza and washed it down with a slug of Coke.
“You believed in me, Cody, right from the start. Even when Kasey and everyone else thought I was delusional. You didn’t let me give up, and you called me on it when I got to feeling sorry for myself.”
“Actually, I sorta enjoyed that last part,” I said, ripping savagely at my second piece of pizza.
Race acknowledged my joke with a slight, lopsided grin as he picked up an errant sliver of green pepper and tossed it toward the box. “This thing with the car,” he persisted. “It wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t been for you. I know that, and I know you went to bat for me with Kasey. As for getting Addamsen to help—well, that was a crazy idea, but—it worked.” He gave me an admiring glance. “It took guts to pull that off.”
All the praise was making me feel guilty. Even if what he said was true, it didn’t make up for the selfish things I’d done. “You’re forgetting the part where I got mad at you for getting hurt. And how I yelled at you while you were in the hospital.” If we were gonna make a list, it might as well be accurate. My eyes focused on a smattering of crumbs on the table. “I’m as bad as Grandpa.”
“Cody, you’re nothing like my father. You have a heart. And I don’t hold that stuff against you.”
“Well, I hold it against me. I was a jerk.”
“So don’t be a jerk anymore,” Race said easily.
I didn’t understand how he could make everything sound so simple—how he could believe everything was so simple—after all he’d been through. Then I realized that so many of the things my sensei had been trying to explain—taking the path of least resistance, accepting the world as it was, disarming an opponent without violence—were things Race did naturally. The Tao of Race, I thought, feeling myself smile.
I looked across the table at my uncle, knowing I’d done nothing to deserve having someone like him in my life. The question now, I realized, was what was I gonna do to start deserving it.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I know.”
“I’ve still gotta say it.”
“I know that, too.” Race regarded me with a quirky little smile—a gentler, more sentimental version of his typical smart-assed grin.
Still feeling like the wrong guy had initiated the apology, I looked away. “I shoulda been the one to buy the ‘I’m sorry’ pizza.”
“Nah,” Race said, finally picking up the slice he’d been neglecting. “I think I prefer hearing the words.”
* * *
I tried to call Mom twice more that afternoon, but I couldn’t catch her at home. Each time her answering machine picked up, my stomach knotted tighter. I wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding, but it wasn’t easy to give her the benefit of the doubt when I couldn’t confirm the details. And it didn’t help that she wasn’t returning my calls.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll see,” Kasey said.
I told myself she was right and tried to stuff the worry away. Fortunately, there were plenty of distractions. The change in Race’s attitude was one of them. Getting out on the track had proved to be even better medicine than I’d expected. The more confident he got, the fewer problems he’d had with headaches, insomnia, and fatigue. He could now put in an afternoon at Kasey’s and still be good for a couple of hours at night working on the Dart.
That evening I tried Mom again with no luck, then got up early Friday to catch her before she left Phoenix. No answer.
It’ll be fine, I told myself. You read the letter. Things are gonna be different now.
Somehow, I made it through the day. The Dart was finally ready for its first practice session, so we hauled it to the track that evening for testing and final adjustments. When we got home, one of those new Thunderbirds was parked in the driveway, taking up the spot the van normally occupied. Race pulled over into the weeds at the side of Spring Boulevard.
“That’s gotta be Saundra,” he said. Her flight had been due at 7:10. Sure enough, the door opened and my mother stepped out, dressed in an outfit that was as costly as any of Grandma’s, but a lot flashier.
When I saw her, my stomach went wobbly with a mixture of hope, anxiousness, and leftover resentment.
“Cody!” Mom said, expertly navigating the slope of the driveway in her 3-inch heels. She swept me into a flamboyant embrace.
It must’ve been five years since she’d hugged me, but as alien as it felt, there was something comforting about it, too. I hugged her back. The scent of her fitted leather jacket, mingling with the familiar, musky fragrance of her perfume, triggered a cascade of memory. For half a second I was three years old again, snuggled up beside her, begging for a story.
“It’s so good to see you.” Mom pulled away and held me at arm’s length, granting me a rare smile. “I didn’t think you’d ever get home. I’ve been waiting almost an hour.”
Uneasiness whispered in the recesses of my brain. It was just past eight, and the airport was clear out in west Eugene, a good twenty minutes from Kasey’s house. There was no way she could’ve been here that long.
Mom let me go and extended her slim hand to Kasey. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I owe you so much for taking care of my son.”
“It was no trouble,” Kasey said.
“You’re looking good, Race,” Mom noted.
He gave her a noncommittal grunt.
“Well,” she said, returning her attention to me, “I’m supposed to meet your grandmother downtown for a late dinner. But I had to see you first. It’s been ages.”
“I tried to call,” I said. “I left messages.”
“I know. It’s just been so hectic, getting things together for this trip.”
The feeling of misgiving grew. “Mom, I can’t move to Phoenix. I never agreed to that.”
My mother’s mouth stiffened at the corners, but her smile didn’t falter. “I have a room all ready for you, Cody. I know things weren’t good at home, but it’s different with your dad out of the picture. We’ll be a family again, just you and me.”
?
??I like it here.”
“You can come back to visit.”
My apprehension mushroomed into alarm and disappointment. This was no misunderstanding. I looked at Kasey, wondering if she could see what I did. Her brow furrowed with puzzlement, but the remnant of her smile told me she was still buying into Mom’s charm.
I glanced anxiously at Race, needing confirmation I wasn’t imagining things. His eyes held a softness that said he felt for me. But he didn’t step in.
With the flame rising under my fear, I turned on Mom. “I’m not going. All we talked about was a visit, and if you’re gonna twist it around to make it sound like I said I’d move, you can forget the whole thing.”
“Now, Cody, there’s no need to be snippy.”
“I’m staying here.”
Mom eyed me with a hint of warning before shooting Kasey an isn’t it amazing what we parents have to put up with look. “Well, we don’t have to discuss this now,” she conceded. “It’s late, and I’m sure you’re all tired. Besides, I’ll be in town until next Friday. I’ll come by then and we can talk.”
“You won’t be able visit with Cody before that?” Kasey asked.
Mom turned an apologetic smile on her. “I wish I could, but I’m pressed for time, and I have so much business to attend to.”
I grunted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Lightning flashed across my mother’s face. Her fingers flexed, and instinctively I flinched. Then she forced another smile. “I’ll see you Friday.”
* * *
The next morning the phone rang while I was eating breakfast. Kasey was at work, and Race was still asleep, so I answered it.
“Cody, it’s Mom.”
I was tempted to hang up, but satisfying as that might’ve been, I knew it wouldn’t fix anything. “What do you want?”
Mom didn’t notice the catch in my voice. “I’m calling to warn you you’d better have your things packed and ready to go on Friday. I won’t tolerate another display of attitude like the one you gave me last night.”
Her complete about-face shouldn’t have been a shock, yet it wrenched my gut like the plunge of a roller coaster. “I’m not going, Mom.”
“Oh, yes you are. Let me tell you something, young man. Your little butt would be in jail right now if it wasn’t for me.”
Anger flared, strong and solid inside me. “You mean if it wasn’t for Grandma. Anyway, you lied to me. You said things would be different. You haven’t changed at all.”
“You’re the one who hasn’t changed. Still back-talking me and showing no respect. I’ve been working hard to put my life back together. I won’t let you ruin that for me. You’re coming to Phoenix, and that’s final.”
“You can’t make me.”
“I most certainly can.”
“Race is my guardian now. He won’t let you.”
“Race can’t do a thing about it. All he has is a temporary piece of paper. I have custody.”
The revelation struck like one of her slaps, knocking the words out of me.
“I’ll be there at seven o’clock sharp,” Mom said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be ready.”
Chapter 32
Mom’s call haunted me all day. I knew she couldn’t physically force me to leave, but I worried about her having the law on her side. Could she sic the police on me?
I wanted to tell Race about it, but I remembered how he’d said he wasn’t an impartial witness. If that hadn’t made it clear I was going to have to figure this out on my own, his failure to confront Mom last night should have. Anyway, Race had enough to deal with. He was preoccupied with the monumental task of sorting out Kasey’s accounts. Even though he’d collected the receipts at the shop, we kept finding new ones at the house. They were stashed everywhere—on top of Kasey’s dresser, in the kitchen junk drawer, under a stack of magazines on the coffee table. I even found one marking a page in a cookbook the night I made meatloaf. And it wasn’t just a matter of figuring out the shop’s expenses. Kasey had cobbled her books together in a way that left gaping holes. Race had to start from scratch designing a new, more comprehensive, system. Then came the real challenge—breaking Kasey of her bad habits so she wouldn’t botch it up.
That night we went out to the speedway and sat with Denny’s wife and kids. It was a whole different scenario from the last time we’d watched from the stands. Race didn’t seem bothered that he wasn’t out there himself. He spent the evening coaching me on driving techniques, using different racers as examples. By the end of the night I understood good passing strategy, the best line around the track, and how to avoid getting humiliated on a restart.
On the way home Kasey made an observation. “The Dart could still use a little fine tuning, but it was certainly raceable tonight. I’m surprised you didn’t insist on getting out there.”
“I’m not ready,” Race said matter-of-factly.
Kasey shot him a look of surprise that slowly morphed into respect.
“I’m not completely stupid,” Race added.
Kasey shook her head and smiled.
* * *
Race didn’t seem particularly bothered about Mom’s imminent return. “She might put up an argument next Friday, but she’s not taking you anywhere,” he said. “I won’t let her.”
While it was nice to finally have him take a stand, his confidence didn’t put me at ease. He hadn’t heard the things Mom said on the phone.
When Kasey noted how odd it was that Mom didn’t seem to be interested in spending time with me, I told her that wasn’t anything unusual. “She didn’t come here to see me, she just wanted to hang out with her old friends and weasel some money out of Grandma,” I said.
Kasey frowned. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her? The whole purpose of her trip was to come get you.”
That made it pretty clear whose side Kasey was on. And it confirmed my fear that she’d never believe me if I told her about Mom’s call.
All that day and the next I worried, watching Race prepare the car and himself for Saturday night and wondering if I’d be there to see his comeback. A single question ran through my head on an endless loop: Could Mom force me to go? There was only one person who could tell me. Dad. The trouble was, I still didn’t want to talk to him. He couldn’t buy my forgiveness with one lousy T-shirt. I mulled the problem over all weekend, looking for another solution, but by Monday night I realized my only option was to swallow my pride and call.
Wanting privacy, I waited until the next morning then dialed his work number from the phone in the basement. Race always respected my space when I was down there.
“Hey, Dad,” I said. “This is Cody.”
“Cody?” he asked in a bewildered tone, like there might be another Cody in his life who’d address him as “Dad.” I was tempted to fire back a sarcastic comment, but I bit my tongue. Unfortunately, that left me with nothing to say. The quiet dragged out for several seconds.
“I’m sorry—you never call me,” Dad said finally. “What’s up? Are things okay with Race? The last time I talked to Kasey she said he was having some trouble adjusting.”
“He’s cool now. He’s gonna be racing this weekend.”
“Really?” Dad hesitated. “Isn’t that awfully soon?”
“It’s been almost eight weeks. Look, Dad, there’s something I’ve gotta ask you.”
Silence. Man, he was pitiful at this.
“Mom’s hassling me,” I said. “She wants me to move to Phoenix.”
Another silence, then, “Do you want to?”
“Are you kidding?”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She said she can force me. She said she has custody.”
Dad’s abrupt laughter startled me. I rarely heard him laugh, and I sure didn’t expect him to now. “I’m sorry, it just never ceases to amaze me the lengths your mother will go to in order to get her way. She’s lying. I have custody. It was the one thing I insisted on when she ask
ed me for a divorce.”
My brain sparked and sizzled, processing this new information. He’d wanted me?
“So if you have custody, why’d you call her when I got busted?” I asked.
“Just because she doesn’t have the last say doesn’t mean she isn’t your mother.”
Right. Maybe in the technical sense.
There was another question buzzing in my head—the one I really wanted to ask. If having custody was so important to him, why’d he send me away the first chance he got? But I couldn’t say the words, and wasn’t sure I was ready to hear the answer.
“So she can’t make me go?”
“No. If she gives you any more trouble just call me and I’ll take care of things.”
The conversation faltered.
“Is there anything else?” Dad asked.
“Uh, no.”
“All right. Well, I have to get back to work. Call me again sometime, okay?”
That was something I’d have to think about.
* * *
With Mom’s threat derailed, I could get back to important matters, like helping Race get ready for his return to competition. We went out to the speedway three times that week. He seemed confident, but I was a little worried. Running practice laps alone on the track with several breaks in between was one thing. Battling it out in traffic during a trophy dash, heat, and 30-lap main was another.
“It’s no big deal,” Race assured me. “I know my limitations. I’ll take it easy all day and catch a nap in the afternoon. It’ll be fine.”
I figured he was right, but I couldn’t help feeling nervous. It wasn’t enough for him to get out there and merely make it through the evening. I wanted to see him kick some ass.
Thursday, after we got back from the speedway, Kasey poked her head through the door of my room, where I was scribbling down ideas for a story.
“Got a minute?” she asked.
“Let me check my calendar.”
Kasey gave me her I’m pretending you didn’t say that look and came in to sit on the edge of my bed. “I want to thank you for what you did for Race. I know I made it difficult.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“No, really, it’s not.” She sighed and pulled at a bit of fluff on the bedspread. “You were right. Maybe a bit overly optimistic, but still right. And I questioned whether you’d stick by Race. I’m sorry for that, Cody. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness and insight, he’d still be sulking around here questioning his self-worth.”