Page 64 of Drifting

“Why would it be in Westridge?”

“My old pit crew put my bike in a storage unit for me until I can ride again,” I tell her, glad she already knows about my racing, and I don’t need to explain that first. “Before I forget again, have you ever been to a football game?”

Her brows scrunch together. “No.”

“Friday night, we’re going to go.” I tap the table.

“I’m good with that. I don’t have any plans other than what I do every weekend. Which is nothing,” she huffs out.

“You know where Nick parks. I’ll meet you at his truck. I can’t wait to see the guys in those tight football pants.” I wag my brows up and down.

“Are you sure?” Her eyes lower. “I don’t want to cramp your style.”

My head falls back as I laugh. “Girl, do I look like I have a style to cramp? I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you there.”

“Yeah, sounds like fun,” she says in an enthusiastic voice.

* * *

The next day, I skip school so Patty can take me to the doctor.

On the way there, I break down. “I’m sorry for what I said to you on Friday. I can see that you’re trying to be there for me. It’s just something that will take a little bit of time for me to get used to.”

“I understand,” she says. “And we haven’t given up on Cindy. We’re still trying to find a way to help. I put a call into her social worker, who said she’d check in.”

My social worker supposedly did that, too. A lot of good it did. I need to be patient, which isn’t one of my strong suits.

At the doctor’s office, I get a checkup and more x-rays done.

While we wait for all the x-rays to come back, I bite my fingernails.

In the chair beside me, Patty lowers the magazine she was reading. “Peter wants to buy you a car. What kind do you like?”

My eyes widen. “Are you serious? He wants to buy me a car just like that?”

She looks at me. “Yes, just like that. He bought Nick’s truck and Hannah’s Beemer, which is sitting in the garage.”

What a waste letting a car like that just sit in the garage. When it gets too cold, I might take them up on that offer.

“Wow, um, I have my own mode of transportation. It’s just in Westridge.” I chew on my lip, unsure how she’ll react to finding out her daughter rides a bike.

Here comes another fight. Maybe she won’t yell as much if we’re in public.

“That’s great,” she says, “but I’m sure it’s just some car that you and Cindy fixed up. Peter will buy you a new one.”

She talks about buying a car like it’s a t-shirt. I take in a big breath to tell her it’s not a car, but I don’t get the chance as the doctor walks in. He puts up the x-rays under a backlit screen on the wall, and he studies them before he turns around.

“Well, Ms. Winters, everything looks good. We can take your cast off your arm today, and you can take the splint off your leg. I recommend physical therapy to build your strength back up.”

“That’s great, Doctor. I used to do Karate. How long before I can get back to that?”

“I’ll leave that up to the physical therapist, but if I have to guess, I’d say a few weeks.” He takes down the x-rays. “It was very nice meeting you both. One of my nurses will be in to get that cast-off. Have a good day.” He shakes each of our hands and leaves.

The door isn’t fully closed before I take off my splint. Man does that feel good. I put on my shoe, which feels so much lighter than that boot.

“Looks like you kept your tan even on your leg,” Patty notes. “Your arm will look off, though.”

I don’t care. I’m just happy to get the cast off.

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