Page 83 of Revved up & Ready

“I could,” I admit, watching my toes drag an arc on the sidewalk below.

“Or, you could call her. Cross two things off your list today.”

It’s overdue. It’sso faroverdue. She hasn’t called me in over a year either, and part of me wants to leave it to her.She’s the parent. Shouldn’t she have to be the bigger person by default?But I miss her. And I’m not even mad at her anymore.

“I’m gonna do it,” I say. “Right now, before I lose my nerve.”

“Proud of you,” he says, turning back towardShadow’s Ink’sdoor. “I’ll hang with Inez until you’re done.”

And then I’m standing on a sidewalk off the PCH, staring at my phone.I have to do this. I want to do this. Icando this. I candothis.

I dial her number and hold the phone to my ear.

She picks up halfway through the second ring. “Sadie? Are you okay?”

Of course she asked that.I haven’t talked to her in forever.

“Hi, Mom. Everything’s great. Really great actually, um…”Should I apologize? Should I explain why I haven’t called?“I did something today I thought you’d be excited about.”

“Oh yeah?” she asks, and I hear the familiar squeak of her favorite chair as she sits down. “I’d love to hear about it.”

“I got my first tattoo. I’m gonna text you a picture right now. It’s so cute, and it’s about baking, and I just thought…”

“Oh, Sadie,” she squeals when the picture comes through. “I love it. Now I kind of want one too. Tell meeverything.”

“Okay, so, obviously I love baking. You taught me that.” I walk to the side of the building where the noise from the cars rushing by on the busy freeway isn’t quite so persistent. “Life has been so good, and I’m realizing that whether or notlife is sweetis within my control. And I wanted that to be my first tattoo. Baking makes me happy on sad days, happier on happy days, and it reminds me of you.”

I hadn’t realized until I started explaining just how much I connected this tattoo to my mom. It’s a reminder of her, of my connection with her, and the fact that she taught me how to do one of my very favorite things. We fall into an easy conversation—the way it feels when you catch up with an old friend without missing a beat. But it’s a thousand times stronger becauseit’s my mom. We only stay on the phone for about twenty minutes, and we don’t address any of the reasons we hadn’t been talking. But the door between us is open again.

Chapter 19

Cam

Send it– caption from Cam’s social media post– a video of him passing two other racers during his latest race,May 18th

“You’re sitting in second place on the grid behind Ludlow for the fifth time this season,” Jolie says, holding the microphone between us. “How are you feeling going into this weekend?”

We’re lined up for the first of two races this weekend, and I’m grateful for the distraction of the interview to pass the time.

“You know, I wouldn’t hate a pole position coming out of qualifiers one of these weekends,” I laugh. “But I’m feeling good. How could I not? I get to race this beast,” I say, patting a gloved hand on the gas tank between my legs.

“We’re getting to the end of the season, and you’re tied up with Ludlow. It’s been neck and neck between you two, but you’ve yet to pull into the lead. What do you think it’ll take today for you to get that edge?” she asks.

“We both know it’s not over ‘til it’s over, but if I stick to—” My words cut off when I catch sight of pink hair in my pit.

Sadie hasn’t been to one of my races since the first one of the season. She’s only recently started watching them on TV. I’d given up on seeing her at the track again after she explained why it’s so hard for her to be here.But she is here—in Austin.

“She’s here,” I breathe out.

Following my gaze, Jolie spots my girl too. She gives me some well wishes for the race and ushers the cameras away to another racer.

Wearing a tiny, pale yellow sundress, Sadie steps over the divider and rushes to my side.She’s here.

“Look at you,” I say, awe filling my voice as I use a hand at her waist to pull her in close.

Her face is bright with a full, dimpled smile as she braces herself with a hand on my thigh and lifts on her toes to kiss me. “Surprise,” she says, bouncing back down on her toes. “Figured it was about time I made it to another one of your races.”

“Have I told you how good you look on a racetrack?” I ask.

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