Page 9 of All That Glitters
“I know you went to the hospital, but have you seen him at all in the months since?”
“No. You’d have known if I had.”
As soon as I was able to, I went to visit Ashton. He hadn’t known I was there. His mother saw me, hugged me, thanked me for coming to see him. She asked after Hale, told me she didn’t blame him and when I expressed my thoughts that Ashton likely wouldn’t feel the same, she told me not to judge him too harshly, that given time, he’d see it for the accident that it was.
I still had my doubts about that.
“I should’ve gone more,” he said. “I should’ve spent time with him. Talked to him and not let things fester and get out of hand.”
“Hale…”
“It was my fault. It was an accident, sure. They happen all the time in racing, but there’s always someone at fault, even when everyone says there isn’t.”
I stared at him from across the room. He’d turned his back to me again. “Is there something you haven’t told me about it?”
He shook his head. “No.”
There was something in that one word that gave me pause, but I also figured he blamed himself every second of the day and night. I wished I knew how to help him. I wished I knew how to mend his friendship with Ashton.
I wished I knew how to be friends with Ashton again. We hadn’t spoken since before that race. He hadn’t reached out to me and I hadn’t reached out to him.
Everything seemed so uncertain and uncomfortable. That’s what silence did.
Immediately after the wreck, we’d heard from other drivers and team owners, manufacturers, sponsors, racing execs… Some were looking to protect their interests, some were gauging his mental health, and some were genuinely concerned for Hale the person.
One thing that had always been true was how small the racing community was, no matter if it was a series based solely in North America or one that raced from one side of the world to the other, and it was an even smaller community when there was such a horrific wreck that involved a championship driver.
“Do you want me to be here tomorrow when he comes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I?—”
I was interrupted by the ringing of my phone. When I saw the name on the screen, I couldn’t hide the wry smile. Talk about timing.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Helen?
“Mrs. Glitterati. How are you?”
Hale turned his head to the side, telling me without words that he was listening in and didn’t intend to leave the room.
“I’m doing well, thank you. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
“Well, first of all, how many times have I told you to call me Francesca or Frannie?”
“Pretty much every single time we talk. I’ll try to work on that.”
“I would appreciate that. We’re all adults now. It’s the new year and a new season. I’m working on plans for my annual season starter dinner. I wanted to be sure you and Hale would be able to attend?”
Francesca Glitterati threw the best dinner parties. They were casual, usually full of laughs and video games and racing egos. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“They have to in the same room at some point, Helen. They can’t avoid each other forever.”
