Page 6 of Too Close To Call

I moved back home to Faire Island almost six years ago and I rarely leave, but being in the driver’s seat with the road looming ahead feels like home to me. I loved driving. I was good at it. “A natural,” Dale used to say.

Years ago, Dale saw me race and God only knows what he saw in me that made him introduce himself to my dad. Over the next year, Dale stayed in touch and followed my budding career. At fifteen, Dale offered me the opportunity of a lifetime. He wanted to teach me. Even more than that, he not only taught me to become a better driver, he also guided me through all the hype and bullshit that comes along with the sport.

When I moved in with Dale Hamilton and his daughter, Tori, I was fifteen and so was she. At first I stayed only during the summer months, May through September. At eighteen, after high school graduation, I moved into a guest house behind Dale’s home and I was placing in national races and making a name for myself in the racing world.

As my racing points grew, so did the relationship with Tori. From the moment I first saw her, I knew she was it for me. She came charging up to me in her racing suit and proclaimed I’d never take her place with her father and that she was going to be among the first women to make a name in racing. She was all arms and legs with braces on her teeth and could cuss like a sailor from being raised around a garage full of men.

I fell so hard for that girl. I believed she would do exactly as she’d said. She was good. Very good, a natural like me. That’s something that can’t be taught. You have it or you don’t. She had it in spades.

We grew close, but Dale advised us to keep our young relationship away from public eyes. I kinda got what he meant. It could have made Tori’s already difficult climb in a male-dominated sport even more insurmountable.

When we turned eighteen, we told Dale we didn’t want to hide our relationship anymore. We wanted to get married. That’s not how things went.

We both made her father promises that year. First, that Tori would give up racing for four years, go to college, and do her best. The second promise was that we would continue to keep our relationship under wraps while she was in school. Those four years were difficult for both of us, but we made it through, even with all the trash that goes along with being in the public eye, including all the Cindy crap.

As young as we were, the biggest thing we had going for us was trust. Until…

I turn on the signal light to exit to the right. I’ve not driven this road since the day I left, but I know my way to the track in my sleep. I remember the first day I sat in the stands as a spectator, and I remember how excited and scared shitless I was when I drove my first race. Also etched in my mind is my last turn around the track and the heartache and pain that followed. I rub my leg through my jeans and I swear I can feel the familiar ache.

At the gate, I reach for my ID, but end up not needing it when I hear “Good afternoon, Mr. Murphy. It’s good to see you here again. Nice ride you got there.”

I look out the window and smile. “Hey, Daniel. Thanks. I thought you retired?”

I’ve known Daniel since I started coming to the track with Dale.

“Yes, sir. I sure did, but the wife said I got underfoot too much and sent me back to work. At least part-time,” he explains with a chuckle.

“Now, Daniel, why don’t I believe that? Sounds to me like you missed coming here and you’re using her as an excuse.”

Daniel rattled out another deep chuckle. “Well, now, you just might be right. Sitting around, watching that damn tube all day was killing me. What about you? Are you ready to come out of retirement? You left too damn early.”

I squeeze the steering wheel. I’m probably going to hear that a lot during the next three weeks. “I’m just here to drive in the charity race.”

At least, I hope I am. I need to know.

“Maybe you’ll realize you can’t give it up. It’ll be good to see you drive again. Give ‘em hell, boy.”

I give him a grin and a mock salute. “See ya, old man.”

I park, and before I meet my team, I take the time to walk into the stands. The sight of the cold track hits me hard. I work on keeping my breath regulated. I take a seat, not sure my legs are able to hold me up any longer. I never imagined being this emotional. Memories fly through my brain. Memories of driving. So many different races. Losing at the beginning of my career and then getting it together and winning. Dale in my ear, talking me through, or in the lineup with me. I glance at pit lane and zero in on the Hamilton pit. I have memories of being with Tori in there. Late one night, we were the last to leave and, just like always, one simple kiss wasn’t enough.

We could never keep our hands or lips off each other. How we kept our relationship under wraps for so many years is a mystery to me.

Calmer now, I push to my feet and make my way to the pit I’ve been assigned to meet my race team. I’m not scheduled to drive today; it’s just a meet and greet.

As soon as I walk into the room, another man I’ve known for years is there to welcome me. The event runners gave me a choice of crew managers volunteering for the race and I didn’t have to think about it. Wendell was my only choice. I have no idea how old the man is. He was old when I met him, but there’s nobody better to run a crew.

“Case Murphy. They said you were driving, but I called ‘em a dadgum liar.”

I hold out my hand. Wendell takes it and pulls me into a man hug, slapping me on the back. “Wendell, it’s good to see ya, man.”

“Any chance this is the start of a comeback?” He nudges for a hint to my future plans.

“Afraid not. My racing days are over, but it’s good to drive for a great cause.”

Wendell sighs with a frown on his weathered face. “You left too early, Case. I know you were torn up about Dale, but he—more than anyone—would have wanted you to continue. He was so proud of you.”

A shutter slams down on the subject of Dale. “So, give me the lay of the land. Can I see the car today?” I’d love to take a lap by myself just to see if I can.

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