Page 12 of The Player Penalty
“Nine.”
Her voice is naturally quiet, but I can hear it perfectly through my car’s speakers. The dark sky makes it seem there are only the two of us in the world. It’s perfect.
“It’s almost two hours. Can you stay on that long?”
“I don’t have a bedtime.”
“Are you alone?”
“My dad is there with you, so he’ll probably show up after I go to sleep. You’re upset about losing this race, aren’t you?”
“Is it obvious?”
“I figured you wouldn’t even notice my text messages, let alone call me. If I’m the person you reach out to, you’re miserable.”
Damn. Lily shrinks both of us with a backhanded compliment and perfectly calls me out. It’s frustration she’s picking up on. I wasted time last season trying to convince Boone we should strategize more, being teammates and all. Now, all this time later, when he’s trying to grow his fucking company, I’m expected to sacrifice for him. “It was a tough race. I left as soon as the wreck happened without finding out who won or even if I was still in the playoffs. Please don’t tell me; we can find out tomorrow.”
“My TV is off, and I don’t know how to find that other part out so we can be ignorant together.”
“How did you get your name? Lily is a pretty name.”
“Like the flower.” She said the same phrase when we first met.
“That part is obvious.”
“It was my mother’s favorite flower. She died a few hours after I was born. Her name was Rose, so Dad named me Lily for her. There’s a picture of her holding several of them in a photo album, so I guess it’s true.”
“Has it always been just the two of you?”
Pete Webb raised her by himself. I’ve known that for over a year, which still surprises me. He’s gruff and has zero sense of humor. Pete doesn’t fraternize and quickly yells if he believes it’s deserved. I suspect he also doesn’t think highly of me.
He transformed into a different person at that surprise party she threw for him. Pete became a proud father, showing Lily off to everyone who would listen. And he named her after his dead wife’s favorite flower.
Hidden depths in that guy.
“My grandparents helped out for a while, but they’re gone, too. There were also a few babysitters over the years. I used to go to some races, but I hid in our trailer. Then I was old enough to stay overnight by myself and haven’t been to one since.”
“Until next season,” I remind her. “You promised to come next season.”
She doesn’t respond to my reminder but doesn’t deny it, either. “Now it’s your turn. Do you have a family?”
My last name is Murphy. That should answer her question. “How well do you follow NASCAR?” No one ever questions me so directly. Sarah Rivers has made a few oblique comments, mostly from concern, but that’s it.
“For me, it’s Dad’s job and nothing else. He hardly talks about it, probably because he believes it won’t interest me.”
She doesn’t know. After all these months at Rivers Motorsports, no gossip has reached her. Is that due to her isolation or some rare display of consideration of my feelings from the company staff? I want to believe it’s the latter, but it’s not. “Mom, Dad, and one younger brother,” I say. “Plus, a grandmother who also lives in Florida.” Those protein bars sit heavy in my stomach. A sour taste grows in my throat, so I quickly swallow it back and take a swig of water. It helps a little. “You’ll be at work tomorrow, right?”
“As soon as my morning class is over. Why?”
“We have a date tomorrow. It’s going to be an epic rematch.”
“Oh.” Lily’s discomfort is apparent through my phone’s speakers, and I wince. My statement probably implied more than she was comfortable with. “We can do that.”
“You can even go on kicking my ass. Talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste.”
Her laughter chases off whatever remains of my upset stomach. I take another sip of water, and our conversation continues. The remaining drive will pass quickly, with her keeping me entertained.
I tap my thumbs on the steering wheel. Calling her up was a genius idea. What’s better than a random dumb conversation with a friend?
