Page 4 of Too Close To Call

“Well, you’re going to tonight. Go on, hurry up.” Knowing my daughter, I lower my five-foot, seven-inch frame into the child-sized seat with an exaggerated sigh.

“Rough day?” Carina asks.

I rub my face and smell the track on my hands. A lovely combination of grease and gas with a bit of exhaust and tar thrown in. I need a shower. “No more than usual.”

Carina catches my eye and I immediately know something is up, especially when she says, “So, I did a thing.”

“Oh, fudge. What did you do?” I respond, leery of what she’s going to say. The last time she looked this guilty, Bella joined the family from a rescue shelter.

Carina’s mouth puckers as she pushes up from the table and pulls a garment bag from the closet, which isn’t anything new. The closet is where she stores her finished pieces. She unzips the bag and hangs a gorgeous, emerald green satin, formal gown on a display rack. My favorite color. “My gosh, Car, that’s beautiful. You are so talented. Who is it for?”

One brow rises like she’s ready for battle. “You.”

I snicker. I’ve never worn a dress like that in my life. I wouldn’t even know how to act in something like that. “Me? Where am I supposed to wear it? I only wear sequins and pearls to work on cars in the garage, never satin,” I say with a dramatic tone of voice.

Carina doesn’t find the humor. Instead she sighs, leaves the gown hanging, and joins me at Daisy’s table. She sinks into a seat, stares directly into my eyes, and I know I’m about to be sorry.

“Funny. Now, hear me out. The charity race is next weekend. We both know who is on the roster to drive this year and you need a date to the awards ceremony…”

I hold up a hand and shake my head firmly. “No.”

I already know where she is going with this and I’m shutting her downnow.

Carina leans back and crosses her arms. “Why not, Tori? It’s been six years. Don’t you think it’s time?”

“No.” It doesn’t matter how many years have passed; it will never be time.

“You can fool most everyone, but you can’t fool me. You still love him.”

I grip the table’s edge to steady myself and take a deep breath in and let it slowly release. A breathing technique recommended to me by that same therapist. “Stop, Car. I don’t want to talk about him. Besides, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”

“How can you say that?” Carina argues.

I throw my hands in the air. It seems pretty plain to me. “You were there. You know what happened.”

“You said it yourself. It’s been six years. Tempers have calmed and you’ve matured. Don’t you at least want to know if it’s still there between you?”

Car doesn’t know how often he’s on my mind or she would have been pushing before now. But like I said, it doesn’t matter. We could never come back from what happened. “I’ve always wanted to apologize to him for what I said. You know I tried. Ignoring my texts and calls is answer enough.”

“I don’t believe that. You can’t simply erase a ten-year relationship that quickly. And you don’t think he understands that? You pushed him away, honey. He only did what you asked him to do. Give him—give both of you—a chance.”

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, a horrible nervous habit I can’t ever seem to stop. “I don’t know, Car. I do know that he’ll never forgive me for what happened after.”

The determined gleam in Carina’s eyes softens to understanding. “Sweetie, you don’t know that and, if nothing else, you need closure so you can find happiness somewhere else.”

Closure. That’s something else the therapist said. But how I can get closure when the man won’t talk to me? What Carina is asking me to do… I don’t see how it’s possible. Since the day I learned Case was slated to drive in the charity race, I’ve been dreading seeing him again, worried that he will completely avoid me or look at me as if he has no clue who I am. I suppose there is another option. He could yell at me and I deserve everything he could throw my way.

My stomach rolls from just thinking about seeing him again. But is it from the dread of seeing him again, or theanticipationof seeing him again? Either one of those options are terrifying. Slowly, my head moves side to side and I reply, “I…I can’t.”

“I found out through the wife of one of the event doctors, and I wasn’t going to tell you, because the board wanted it to be a surprise. The race this year is in honor of your dad. You’re kinda required to go. You’ll see him whether you want to or not.”

My head jerks up, jolting me from the darkness of the past. “No, Car. They can’t do that without talking to me first.”

“Evidently, they can, and they are. Now, are you going to be there for your father, or are you going to chicken out?”

CHAPTER 3

CASE

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