Page 32 of Be Still My Racing Heart
Having played cornhole plenty of times, I know that each bag weighs about a pound. I lean over and peer into the box Milo is opening, wondering if it’s full of cotton balls. He hefted it far too easily. Nope. His box has identical contents to mine. For such a lanky guy, he’s surprisingly strong.
“Cornhole for a Cause surprised us by donating 25 cornhole sets designed with the Play It Forward logo. Five of them are for the Center to keep, but the rest are to give away as door prizes for the event,” Milo says, his smile firmly fixed in place as always. I once asked Blake if Milo gets Botox injections to keep his smile permanently, but she only laughed it off and said, “Milo is genuinely a happy guy. I don’t think he knows how to frown.”
“Ace had to be the one who packed these boxes,” I grumble. As the owner of a gym in Baggersville called Ace Lift, he and I have had quite a fewfriendlybench-press competitions over the past year. Sadly, to say, I have yet to win, and this is likely a subtle attempt to rub it in my face. That’s when a brilliant idea hits me.
“Milo, you remember Ace, right?”
“I remember everybody, Ryder.” He taps his head. “My brain is Fort Knox. Did you know that Fort Knox….”
I hold my hands up to stop him from spouting another random fact that will only cause me to lose a penguin off my mental iceberg. My brain can only retain so much before information gets replaced with useless knowledge. “Instead of demoing cornhole this year, he’s going to set up a portable gym and discuss the benefits of physical fitness. Why don’t the two of you have a bench-press competition? You can show those kids firsthand that mental strength is as important as physical strength.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea!” Milo beams proudly.
Trevor rushes into the room, having grown an inch over the past 12 months. He’s now just over five and a half feet tall and was chosen to play the position of point guard for the varsity team as a sophomore. It’s quite an accomplishment, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.
“Milo, Louise needs your help! The Xerox machine stopped working, and she can’t finish printing out the brochures to hand out!”
Milo unzips the pack attached to his waist and removes a small tool kit. “Copy that! It’s time toinkoutside the box!” He laughs at his own joke as he follows Trevor down the hall. “Trevor, did I ever tell you about the time I got stuck in a freezer…?”
So much for Milo having a memory like Fort Knox. I’ve just finished offloading the rest of the cornhole items that my friends have sent, when Blake magically appears to brighten my day.
I glance around the room to ensure we’re alone before stealing a not-so-quick kiss. I guess it’s not really stealing if she gives as good as she gets.
“I’m sorry about the news,” she says as she steps out of my embrace. She sits on one of the boxes I haven’t unpacked yet and peers at me with sympathy.
I shrug. “It was my first year in the Cup Series, and if I keep improving, I’ll make the playoffs next year. At least I can say that I ended last year in the top three for Xfinity.” There are still three more races left in the qualifying season, but I’d have to win all three to make the 16thspot for the playoffs. While not impossible, it’s unrealistic. However, that isn’t going to stop me from trying. “Did your deal go through?”
At this, Blake’s face lights up. “Yes! Morrison Motors will now use Wheelie Good Tires on all its vehicles beginning in January. It’s a huge boon for WGT, and for Morrison Motors. The news of the deal released only a few hours ago, and stocks have already begun to climb for both companies.”
Blake and I have discussed her future with Morrison Motors now that Randall is really trying to be the father to them that he promised he would be. It hasn’t been a smooth ride, but the family is working things out and finding their new norm. Blake agreed that down the road, she would assume her role as head of the company since her dream is to have Teague alongside her. As of now, neither of them are ready to do so. Ten years from now, maybe.
I lock the door to the storage room and stalk over to the woman who owns every piece of my heart. Sliding my hand around her neck, I bring her mouth to mine. I savor and sip on her lips until I’m punch-drunk with love. Blake consumes my thoughts as I imbibe in her every exhale.
“Ryder,” she whispers. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m committed to the checkered flag, and I’m one lap from the finish line. I just wanted a sample of the sweet taste of victory.”
She laughs as she pushes me away. “Like Soup always says, ‘Celebrateafteryou win.’”
For the first time in a long time, I want to ignore Soup’s advice. When I lean in to kiss Blake once more, there’s a loud pounding on the door.
“Ryder, are you in there?” Trevor asks frantically.
I whisper to Blake as I nip her ear. “Is this what having kids will be like? Always getting interrupted at the most inopportune moments?”
Before she can answer, Trevor bangs on the door again. “If you’re in there, grab a pair of scissors! Milo’s hair is stuck in the copy machine and Louise is freaking out.”
With the event in full swing, the new karting track is packed with racers as if it’s a Grand Prix. Teague has been volunteering with Play It Forward for the past several months, and he, along with Mina and several other volunteers, are manning the line of people waiting to race. This gives me at least an hour with Blake to walk around and enjoy the festivities.
“I’m sorry your father couldn’t be here,” I say as we take a few minutes to watch a pick-up game featuring several professional basketball players and at least a dozen kids. Baseball players assist at the batting cage, throwing balls back and forth with the children or teaching different types of pitching techniques. There are also flag football, volleyball, tennis, and badminton being played. Yes, I said it—badminton. I recently learned that Blake hadn’t been kidding when she said it was an Olympic sport.
“He wanted to be, but there was an emergency at the Seattle location he had to attend to.”
Blake and I wave to The Beanbaggers as we pass by the cornhole area, but the real show is about to start when I notice Milo standing near Ace’s portable gym set-up. Sweet Milo looks just as enthralled with the demonstration as the kids.
I drag Blake over to the exhibit and ask Ace, “Are you up for a bit of healthy competition?”
“Sure, bring it on, Ryder,” he retorts. Ace smirks because he has always beaten me, as he should. As an Army Ranger, he has had to push past his limits to achieve mission success.
