Aly didn’t talk to me the rest of practice. Are you surprised?
Didn’t think so.
After practice, I meet Glen at the track around seven thirty. Actually, he comes knocking on the door to my trailer about the time I’m wondering what it is I’m going to eat for dinner. I haven’t gone to the grocery store since I’ve been back, and my lunch today consisted of a Twinkie a kid gave me and a leftover slice of questionable pizza from the cafeteria. They serve shit in that place. Absolute shit. Aunt K should be ashamed.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, staring at Glen in his overalls. He hasn’t changed much in the last ten years, aside from his hair graying more. He still wears those same black overalls.
“You said this place looks like shit.” He nods to the golf cart behind me. “It’s time you look at the whole track and show me what you think looks like shit. You can’t just glance at it and base an opinion off that.”
Are we still talking about the track? I can never tell with him.
Deciding I’m not going to find anything to eat in my trailer, I go with him, and the first thing I ask when we’re riding through the pits is, “How’s Tyler been? I heard he’s racing for Jameson Riley.”
Glen laughs and glances over at me, his body moving in the seat as we pass over the scales they use to weigh the cars after the races. “Son, why are you asking about Tyler when you know damn well you’re really asking about Aly?”
I shrug and hold onto the top rail to keep from falling off when he drives onto the track. “When do I ever intentionally ask about her?”
“Touché.” Glen takes the high side of the track, driving up against the concrete barriers and fence line. He points toward a hole in the fence near the flag stand. “We have to fix that before next weekend when the Outlaws are here.”
I sigh. I had no idea how much work was going to be involved in this track. Then again, I also had no idea what I was coming home to.
My focus returns to Aly, as it has most of the day, and suddenly I’m pissed off at Glen because of it. “Why’d you let her marry that dipshit?” Austin Jacob is a dipshit, and I can say that with absolute certainty.
Let’s pause here. I’m going to tell you a story. You’ve been given some details but here’s a few more.
Austin’s family own a good portion of Calistoga and a winery just outside of town in Mt. Helen. My mother. . . she owns the other portion and also a winery. As you can see, there was competition with the Jacob family from the beginning and numerous fights over the land in which Calistoga Speedway sits on. Land my father’s family has owned for years.
Now, the story as it goes is my mother got together with my dad, fucking the boy from the wrong side of the track thing and that ended with her getting knocked up. Here’s where the lies began. Her father, Lowery, quite possibly the worst human being on the planet, and that’s on a good day, told her, you marry him and get that land.
Didn’t quite work out that way because when they divorced twelve years later, Dad kept the land. He had to pay her something like a million dollars in the divorce settlement, but he still got to keep his land.
He may have been dumb for marrying her, but he wasn’t stupid in the divorce, and I do pride him on that.
Now, after the divorce, my mother married Brooks Lucas, Austin’s dad, the same man she had been having an affair with. Austin and I became stepbrothers.
Now you’re probably asking why I hate Madalyn so much?
Wouldn’t you?
Okay, if you don’t yet, listen up. This is where the story takes a turn.
After the divorce, I was spending every other weekend at Madalyn’s house, which happened to be Brooks’s mansion. Didn’t really matter to me. I was usually sneaking out of the house anyway. I wanted nothing to do with Madalyn, and certainly not Brooks, let alone that “every other weekend” shit.
While I was at the house one day, I found the court documents for their mediation when she stated she didn’t want custody rights of the child.
I’ll pause there.
At twelve, how would you feel about that?
It was three years later when the real shit hit the fan, and I’ll get to that part. Somewhere along the line, through the fading strength of our friendship, Austin fell for Aly.
I couldn’t blame him, I had too. But the thing was, Austin had been my best friend at one time. If anyone knew how I felt about Aly, it was him, and he turned that around and took my girl.
The night I stole Madalyn’s car, I had gotten into it with Brooks and he hit me in the face. A few times, and I left. Why did he hit me? I told him despite my mother living with him, it didn’t make him my dad. Despite the paternity test that proved he was my biological father, it still didn’t make him my dad. It never would. I’d never listen to him.
You’re shocked, aren’t you?
Me and you both. And guess who knew all along and never said anything to me?
Austin.
Shit got ugly that night. As it turns out, or how Madalyn tells it, she had been seeing Brooks and my dad at the same time and wasn’t sure whose baby it was. Mike, my dad, told my mother he wanted to get married and he wanted me. He didn’t care whose baby it was, he wanted me. He didn’t even want a paternity test done. Years later, my mom had one done, but still, Mike loved me and treated me as his own regardless.
I never confronted my dad about it. I didn’t want him to know I knew.
That night, after the fight with Brooks, I left with a swollen eye and a bloody lip, stole the car and picked up Aly.
That’s the same night I drove the car through the front of Jacob Law while Brooks was working inside it. I intended on hitting him, but it didn’t work out that way. I guess lucky for me because I’d be in jail had that actually been the case.
Knowing all this, how do you think I feel about Aly marrying Austin?
Not good.
Glen sighs, drawing my attention toward him. “I let her marry Austin because you couldn’t get your shit together long enough to man up.”
There’s truth to his words, but then again, there’s not. “That’s bullshit.” I laugh, wiping sweat from my forehead. It’s nearing eight now and still hot as fuck outside. “You and I both know you wouldn’t have approved of me.”
Glen raises his bushy eyebrows. “When did I ever say that?”
He’s right. He never said it. I want to change the focus away from me. “The boys are good kids.”
Though it’s random, Glen’s eyes light up at the mention of his grandkids. “They are. Thankfully they take after Aly.” He glances over at me, the setting sun to the west lighting up the side of his face and his eyes that match his daughter’s. “Where were you? I tried calling you the day she married him.”
“I know.” I saw the number on my phone and knew it was Glen, but couldn’t bring myself to answer it. For Aly’s sake I didn’t answer, and now I think I should have. I knew I wasn’t much back then, but I was a hell of a lot better than that asshole.
“And why didn’t you answer?”
“I don’t know.” I don’t want to be talking about this anymore.
“Tyler even called you.”
I smile, wanting to change the subject. “You’ve always liked me, haven’t you?”
He grunts but doesn’t deny the statement. “Come on, Trouble. We got shit to fix.”