“An offer, huh? Why doesn’t he just call me?”

We’re upstairs. Me and Mark are sitting on the couch, with Tommy sitting in the armchair across from us. “You really need to ask? Look…the thing is, ‘Ree, is that he’s super-stressed about something lately. Mom says he’s not talking to her about it. If he’s not telling her, then he’s not telling anyone. I hope it’s nothing serious, nothing about his health.”

“Shit,” I say, staring at my brother.

“Yeah. He was miserable this morning. Insufferable, as Mom would say. ”

“Shit,” I say again.

“He was so upset when I said I can’t finish the audit alone. He said he needs it done and finished as soon as possible. But I can’t fucking do it myself and get my own work done.”

“No, of course not.”

He nods, then looks at Mark. “My Dad’s a tough person to deal with but he’s usually fair, never abusive or anything. There’s something wrong, something going on.”

“I wonder why he wants the audit finished so quickly all of a sudden,” I say. “Dad, Callum and Hamish procrastinated on it for years, what’s the big deal now?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I’m here to talk to you about. He knows he can’t make you come back if you don’t want to. But we need you to help us finish the audit. So he’s asking if you would come back long enough to do it. He’s willing to hire a helper and put Gavin on it full-time, too. He’ll pay us all a bonus and stay out of our way. We should be able to get it done and over before the race.”

I look at Mark. He’s sitting forward, listening soberly, hand rubbing his chin restlessly.

He looks back at me and lifts his shoulder a little.

Your choice.

“Speaking of the race, what about that?”

Tommy’s voice lowers as he leans towards me. “He wants us to do it, ‘Ree. He says he’ll bring Callum on as crew boss and stay away from it. The important thing is to complete it and do our best. You know what he always says.”

I nod. “Finish what you started. But…shit. I don’t know if I want Dad to stay out of it! This race is his baby. It wouldn’t even be happening if not for him.”

“I know. But it sounds like he’s made up his mind. Anyway, that’s the deal. By the way, Mom wants you to call her. She might ask you to come home. But if you want my opinion, I think it might be better to stay away for a while, if you can. I’m staying at Mike’s, giving Mom and Dad space to mend fences.

He glances at Mark.

“She’s welcome here as long as she likes,” Mark says.

Tears rise in my eyes again. Wiping at them, I nod slowly. “Okay. I’ll come back to work starting tomorrow. And I’ll stay here for now.” I squeeze Mark’s hand.

“What do you want me to tell Dad about the race?”

“Tell him I’m in. We’ll stick to the practice schedule and get the race over with too. Tell him… I won’t cause any problems. After that…well, let’s just see what happens.”

* * *

The next day, Gavin and Tommy are waiting for me when I arrive at the office.

Callum’s in his office, on the phone, from the sounds of it. I can hear his deep voice faintly, through his closed door.

Hamish and Dad are nowhere to be seen.

I look at Gavin warily, but he offers me a smile, then grabs me and gives me a quick hug.

“No worries, Marie,” he says. “We’ll git ‘er done. Everything will be cool.”

“Okay. Thanks, bro” I say, keeping my tone light. I don’t want to be getting all teary-eyed at work. “Are we gonna hire someone to help?”

“Dad told Callum to get on it but I thought we could just see how it goes with the three of us. Having to train someone on the fly might actually slow us down.”

“True,” I say. “Good thinking.”

“Also, I called a few clients and re-scheduled them, spreading them out over the coming weeks. That should make it a bit easier,” Tommy adds.

“Yeah,” Gavin nods. “By the end of the week, we should have a better idea how long it will take us anyway.”

“Alright,” I say. “What about…um. Is Dad gonna be around?” I kind of hope he is, and I kind of hope he isn’t.

“He said he’ll stay away for now, let things cool off. ”

“Alright. Well…let’s get cracking.”

* * *

The next few weeks fly past in a blur. Tommy, me and Gavin work feverishly on the audit, counting and sorting, creating records and keying endless values into the system. The tedium never lets up, but having Gavin with us turns out to be a huge help. We soon realize that hiring someone new almost certainly would’ve slowed us down.

We’re going to get through this, although we’re shaving it close to rapidly approaching Race Day.

Conspicuous by his absence, Dad makes himself scarce, popping in once in a while, being cordial, but mysteriously, he’s not showing up for work even at the other branches.

No one seems to know exactly where he’s spending his workdays. However, Sinclair’s parts business is a well-oiled machine by now and the older brothers run it with the other employees without any problem.

We all speculate about what he’s up to but, at the end of the day…? Dad is Dad, and no one questions his doings.

Even though I’d told Tommy that it was cool with me for Dad to stay on as crew boss, he hardly ever shows up for practice.

It’s almost always Callum now. He says Dad’s still the crew boss, but since Callum’s doing everything Dad did, he’s pretty much taken over.

And when Dad does makes an appearance, it’s brief and hurried.

Again, he’s cordial. Not cold, not warm, not angry, not happy. Just pops in, asks how it’s going, and gone again before I can blink.

I’m saddened by my father’s absence…but also, kind of relieved.

As for our racing chops…well, those first bunch of races where Mark and I tied for first place…?

Yeah. That seems to have been a fluke.

Because, as more racers get added to the roster and the track becomes ever more crowded during practice, Mark and I struggle to place in the top three. And we never tie at all anymore.

No, now, both of us fight for every inch of track against some of the most aggressive amateur drivers in the State.

In fact, we’ve both had the experience of placing dead last in practice laps. Callum says those are “teaching moments”.

Yeah. I guess.

As the big day approaches, my anxiety ebbs and flows. Sometimes, it’s not too bad. Other times, it feels like an enormous shadow hanging over everything.

At this point, I just want this fucking thing to be over with.

The Zen of driving has all but abandoned me; my nerves being like nails on a blackboard every lap.

But I keep it that to myself.

It’s almost over. I’ve committed myself to making it through the main event.

However, I can’t deny that the stress is killing me. It’s draining my love of driving and living in the shadow of my fear is beginning to infect my day-to-day existence.

It’s not worth it.

* * *

At home after every practice race now, Mark and I discuss the finer points of our driving and our vehicle performance over dinner.

Every now and then, he probes me about how I really feel about racing. Now that we’re living together and getting to know each other on a deeper level, it’s getting harder to hide the truth about my nerves and my difficulty with crowds from him.

He definitely suspects that I’m not comfortable with it.

Tommy and Callum are seeing it, too. On a lesser level, so are Hamish and Gavin.

My mom questions me but I’m definitely not gonna admit anything to her!

Everyone in my family, except Dad, has mentioned or asked about it, one way or another. And I’m sure Dad would ask too, if he were around more.

Brenda, needless to say, has no doubt whatsoever. She made it clear that she does not think I should do it, but now…she’s holding her peace.

In any case, I don’t need any more stress about it, and I don’t want to lie. So I simply refuse to discuss it with anyone who asks, saying we’ll talk about it after the race.

Everyone respects the line that I’m drawing.

* * *

On the domestic front, though, things are so much better! I’ve slowly brought more of my clothes over to Mark’s and a few of my favorite possessions too.

I never expected it to happen this way, but I’ve pretty much left home permanently now. Mark and I are living together openly and enjoying it very much.

Every time I bring something new over, Mark seems to get happier. He seems to relish having me here. He’s determined––no, eager––to accommodate me. To provide for me…to answer my every need.

First session classes at OSU have started. I’m going bonkers trying to keep up with school and work and racing. My stress levels are through the roof.

But!

But…even though it’s weird not seeing my Mom and Dad and my brother at home every day anymore, I still get to see my family at work. And all my brothers, privately, one by one, tell me to keep the faith, each in their own way.

They let me know that they think Mark is okay and they’re happy for me. That they respect him for what he’s doing, and they respect my decision to be with him.

And that he’ll be welcome in the family, as soon as Dad comes around.

Even Bryce, in California, texts me his best wishes and tells me he’s looking forward to having the two of us out there for a holiday as soon as we can.

Turns out, Brenda was right all along. My family will accept the right man for me…as long as he is a man. As long as he stands up for himself, and for me.

I feel bad now for thinking any less of them.

* * *

Meanwhile, things with Mark just keep getting better.

My honey. My soul mate.

My very own Motorhead.

Going home to him every night is more satisfying than I ever dreamed living with a man could be.

Some weeks he’s on nights, some on days, but we’ve quickly fallen into a routine. It’s easy and natural and works really well. He’s become my rock, and I like to think I’m his.

When I get home, we usually cook something together, and then I go through the day’s paperwork and get it all into the system. He marvels at how easy it is for me, and what a relief it is for that burden to be lifted from his shoulders.

And I find out how scary-smart people with dyslexia really are! Just because their brains don’t process words the same way as the rest of us, does not mean they’re stupid or slow. A lot of them have adapted so well, I wonder if they’re not better off than some of the rest of us.

Seems that they develop near-supernatural powers of focus and concentration to compensate, using tricks of memory, cognition and even, ways of recognizing the shapes of letters or whole words so that they can make sense of the alphabet. It’s incredibly clever in ways I’d never have dreamed of. Mark uses a bag of little tricks, one of which, he calls ‘mnemonics’, plus a near-photographic memory, just for a couple examples.

Nevertheless, it’s always a strain on their energy. He tells me that dyslexics not only perform these mental gymnastics, but they usually do it all in secret as well, never letting anyone know how hard it is for them to do what the rest of take for granted: Which is, just read, without having to think about it.

Mark Mollenkamp is nothing short of amazing. I am stunned and thrilled and feel almost superstitiously fortunate to have met him and somehow, gained his affection.

Most nights, we make time to make love. Sometimes a quickie, sometimes a longer session, and some nights, exhausted from the day, we just play around or caress each other and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

We learn how to massage the tension out of each other’s neck and shoulders, and how much we both enjoy the light touch of the other’s fingertips, tracing patterns on bare skin as we lay in bed together, or sprawl on the couch, absent-mindedly touching each other.

And we are getting used to each other, to the rhythms of each other’s bodies…how to touch each other…where to kiss, where to lick, where to add pressure and where to ease off.

I learn to tease, nibble and lick the underside of his glans, loving every moan and shiver my attentions elicit. I learn exactly how hard to squeeze his cock…which is, to my astonishment, a lot harder than I thought!

We both learn how it pleases me when he strokes himself into me from behind, discovering to our mutual delight a new, sweet spot inside me that it seems he can only reach with his cock. Hitting that spot makes me lose control…makes my mouth go slack nearly to the point of drooling, as my eyes roll up and uncontrolled, animal grunts come from my throat with every thrust. Oh god, the pleasure is out of this world!

Whether we have a full-on session or whether it’s just play, our lovemaking helps us both sleep, and I can attest that it drains the day’s stress from my body like nothing else.

And falling asleep next to Mark’s massive, calm and reassuring presence is like having a Superhero to protect me, all of my own.

It is an enormously busy time in my life. I’ve never been so occupied, or had so much to think about.

No matter our problems and stresses, though, I am beyond grateful to have Mark in my life.