Hart's Victory (16 page)

“I can drive,” Kellie said simply, and soon she and Hart were seated across from each other in a booth at Fred’s. The room had photographs and memorabilia posters everywhere�the authentic, antique kind, not the ones reproduced and sold mass market through restaurant supply stores. The wooden bar was octagonal and ornate, and it filled the center of the high-ceiling room.

The happy hour crowd was moderate for a Tuesday evening. Many were in work attire, while others were dressed like Kellie and Hart, who were wearing jeans and casual T-shirts.

“Can I take your order?” their waiter asked, and Hart requested a bottle of his microbrew, a cola and water.

“I’ll just have iced tea,” Kellie said.

“I’ll be right back with those,” the waiter said.

Their waiter moved away and Kellie arched an eyebrow at him.

“What?” he asked.

“It seems like an odd combination,” she remarked.

“Flying makes me dehydrated,” he told Kellie. “I go through at least three bottles of water when traveling. As for the beer, my contract stipulates that it’s the only alcohol I can drink. It’s mostly on the table for show.”

“Yeah, I guess that would look bad if you were imbibing something else. Like being sponsored by one store and seen shopping at the other.”

“Exactly,” Hart said. He opened the menu. “What’s good here besides burgers and steaks?”

“Everything,” Kellie replied, beginning to relax. The waiter hadn’t even given Hart a second glance, except to take his drink order. No one in the place was staring at them. Hart’s presence in her life was also becoming more comfortable. “I’m going to have the southwestern chicken. My mom swears by the rib eye.”

“This bison burger with mushrooms sounds pretty good.”

“It is,” Kellie said. And, as soon they’d ordered, they found themselves deep in conversation, probably the first real conversation they’d had that hadn’t related to Charlie or racing.

“So, even after this weekend, you still weren’t impressed with me,” Hart said.

“I apologized,” Kellie said as she polished off her chicken. “I let myself believe in the stereotype. You don’t fit the bill at all.”

“Really? I never would have noticed,” Hart’s sarcasm was meant in jest.

“Ha ha,” Kellie said, accepting his jest as a way to keep the conversation from getting too deep. “Today you showed a lot of courage and generosity. There was nothing for you to gain today.”

“I don’t do things just for what I can get out of it,” Hart said.

“I’ve realized that now,” Kellie acknowledged. “I guess not being one of those who wants fifteen minutes of fame, it’s discomforting to have it. My mom’s friend caught Eileen’s show. She told me we were plastered everywhere. I wasn’t very happy yesterday, and then you called and Charlie was burning up and I was just rude. I shouldn’t have been.”

“You’re a mother. You were worried.” He waited a second. “Did that make it better?”

“A little,” she said with a smile. “I still feel rather silly for overreacting. You aren’t doing this for nefarious reasons.” She pointed to the table. “I mean, you’re here with me because…”

“Because I want to be,” Hart finished for her.

“It’s a little overwhelming,” Kellie said. “To think you’re with me just because…” Her voice drifted off again.

“I’m very serious about you,” Hart said. Silence descended for a moment. “This is one of those times that I’d love not to be a celebrity. Sort of. I hate some of it. But other parts are fantastic. I’m living my dream. I can do things like drop everything and fly here to see you and Charlie. But being a driver means other dreams I have are often put on the back burner or given up. Few want to deal with someone who has something all-consuming in his life.”

“I can understand that,” she said, toying with her napkin before she pushed it away. “I’ve quit teaching for now. Charlie’s much more important than my having a career. But with all the changes in education, I’m afraid that when I do want to go back, I’ll have been left behind and my training will be obsolete.”

“Isn’t teaching mainly about caring and loving kids? Maybe learning new stuff is like riding a bike. You’ll just pick it right back up.”

“That’s kind, and I hope so. I guess I just want normalcy for a while. Life in and out of the hospital is not normal.”

“Life can’t be put on hold,” Hart said.

“No, but I can’t put my needs above my son’s, either,” she said. “He’s had it rough. His father was never around. So busy trying to grasp that brass ring, John took a job as an overseas contractor. It paid well because of the dangers. Sometimes I think I drove him to it. Charlie had been sick for a while, and he couldn’t handle it. Providing for us from afar was a safe way to avoid facing what he saw as our failure.”

“Failure? I don’t understand. You are a fantastic mother. How could you be a failure?” Hart asked.

“We failed Charlie. Whatever genes he got from us, they weren’t good enough.”

Kellie choked up slightly, and she took a sip of her iced tea to hide the emotions that threatened to come back. Hart reached his hand out and covered hers.

“When you find out your child has a life threatening illness, you blame yourself,” Kelly continued. “I gave him life. I should have done a better job. I should have protected him better.”

Hart sat there thinking for a moment. “Maybe
should haves
ought to be added to that list. I should have gone low instead of high. I should have pitted a lap earlier. I should have made better decisions.”

“You might be right,” Kellie said, glad he hadn’t been condescending as others had by offering patronizing comments such as, “It’s not like that,” or “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“It’s hard not being able to fix anything,” Kellie said.

“I know,” Hart replied. “You have no control. However, it’s like racing. You have to toss off the blame. Blame is like fear. While some amounts may be healthy, too much becomes all-consuming and eats up your sanity. You can second-guess yourself to death. You want to overcompensate, which, trust me, makes things a lot worse in the long run.”

Maybe Hart did understand. The weight of his hand on hers was a welcome comfort, and it was sending delightful little signals to her brain.

“Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, Kellie. You just have to make the best decisions as you go forward and try not to kick yourself too much if you make a mistake. I’m sure you’ve heard doctors tell you that Charlie’s disease is not your fault, so I’m not going to venture down that path. I’m not going to offer you any advice. I’m just going to say that I’ve been in similar situations. I took a guy out of the race last year. My car got loose and I caught him on the rebound as I bounced off the wall. Knocked him right out of the Chase and ended his championship dreams. I had to let go of the guilt. Once it was done, it was done. Fluke. Fact of nature. Whatever. We were simply two objects occupying the same space at the same time. I didn’t do it on purpose, and everyone knows that in this business accidents happen, but the media still dogged me for weeks asking about how I felt about it. At some point, you have to let it go and simply deal with the cards fate dealt you. All I could do was go on.”

“I’ve been trying,” she said, for it was important to her that he believed that.

He nodded. “I know. That’s why I think it’s important that I tell you that you impress me a great deal. Even when you seem like you are pushing me away, you still amaze me with how selfless you are. As cheesy as it sounds, I hold you in the highest regard. I also want to tell you that you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“No?” Her word caught on her breath. His touch and declaration had short-circuited her.

“No,” Hart said with such conviction that she tried to withdraw her hand, except that he gripped it tighter. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not. I’m…” Kellie paused, her lie obvious. She was afraid. This was Hart Hampton, one of NASCAR’s most popular drivers. Thousands screamed his name. Hundreds stood in line for hours just for five seconds of face time. She wasn’t model-pretty. How could she compete? Better yet, how could she keep up?

Hart was stroking her hand, his fingertip soft on hers. His touch soothed, calmed her nerves. He made her want to believe. The man could sell snow in the winter. He’d told her he wasn’t toying with her. He’d promised to be there for her.

“You’re going to have to make time for us,” Hart said. “I’m already here. All you have to do is let me in.”

The waiter appeared at that moment, saving Kellie from a reply. “Would either of you like dessert?”

“Kellie?” Hart asked.

“No, I’ll pass. I’m ready to get back,” she said.

“Just the check,” Hart told the man. “Please think about what I said,” he said to Kellie.

“I will. I don’t think I’ll be able not to,” she replied honestly. “I admit, there is something between us.”

“Good.” Hart leaned back. Kellie knew he was satisfied, and so was she. He’d pushed her, yes, but he’d eased up at exactly the right moment. John would have kept picking and picking. That Hart knew when to fold his hand spoke volumes.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said. She studied him as he dialed the car service, directing them to pick him up at the hospital in forty minutes. He then called his pilot and gave him the itinerary.

“Is it safe flying this late?” Kellie asked, her worry evident.

“It’ll be fine. We do it after every race most weekends,” Hart reassured her. “I told you I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not.”

But he was, Kellie thought later, as she kissed Charlie good-night and headed home. Hart had boarded his plane and returned to Charlotte. She couldn’t date the man long distance. Everyone knew that didn’t work. She had a marriage that failed because of distance�out of sight meant out of mind.

As for Hart, as much as Kellie believed him, she also worried that she could be just a novelty that would eventually lose its luster.

After all, every man in her life eventually left. Her husband. The few men she’d dated. Even Charlie would leave the nest at some point. Why should Hart be different? Her heart had been hurt too many times to risk hurting it again. It had nothing to do with fear, just practicality.

P
ROOF THAT
H
ART
was serious about a relationship with Kellie arrived in the form of couriered Hampton Racing hard card credentials for Kellie. With it came a note, scrawled on notepaper in what Kellie assumed was Hart’s real handwriting.

“That’s cool, Mom,” Charlie said. He’d been home for a few hours, resting on the couch. The longest race of the year was tomorrow, and he was ready. “Let’s hop in the car and go.”

“I don’t think so,” Kellie said with a slight smile, knowing her son wasn’t
totally
serious. “The doctor says not yet. Your infection is pretty much gone, but we want to make sure that the infusion of platelets did the job. Everything looked great, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Yeah, but I’ve still got chemo ahead.”

“Which will work this time,” Kellie replied, donning her positive hat. “Dr. Murphy did say he thought you could go to a race before that starts.”

“Then let’s go to Dover next weekend. That’s in Delaware.”

“I know my geography, and we’ll wait and see how you feel,” Kellie said. She refused to let Charlie push himself. Her son would go to everything, tire himself out, and then develop another infection, which would set his recovery back.

“Well, we aren’t going to miss Pocono,” Charlie said stubbornly. “I heard that track’s wild. It’s an intermediate track, and it only has three turns. I want to see it in person.”

“Again, we’ll see,” Kellie repeated. “What you can do is start planning your birthday party. That’s only a few weeks away.”

“I want to go racing for my birthday.”

Kellie folded her arms.

Charlie glared right back. “Fine. But I’m getting my driver’s license. I’m already eligible for my permit and ready for the written test.”

Kellie exhaled, trying to relieve her growing frustration. “You won’t be able to drive without someone in the car.”

“Yeah, I know,” Charlie said, suddenly irritable. “State law. Don’t you think I know that?”

“Sorry,” Kellie responded. She raised her hand, willing to concede this one. Charlie was a boy trapped in a body that didn’t work. His mind wanted to do things, but physically he couldn’t. “I’ll talk driving lessons over with the doctor. But I’m not a good teacher. Not with autos. Maybe Grandma can do it.”

“I asked her. She’d rather not.”

“Then let me look into some driving instruction. Maybe we can go that route.” Kellie tried not to wince as her brain calculated the additional cost. That was another reason she’d been putting Charlie’s driving test off. Car insurance was outrageous for teenage drivers, and she’d have to insure him immediately and with high medical payments.

Charlie turned his attention to the screen. The NASCAR Busch Series race was on tonight, and tomorrow afternoon they’d all sit down about four o’clock and watch the Cup race.

Kellie’s phone rang and she went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Did you get my package?”

Hart. “I did. Thank you,” Kellie said, her adrenaline spiking. She gripped the receiver tighter, delighted he’d called.

“I expect you to use those,” Hart replied. Kellie could hear noise in the background, as if he were calling her from the hauler. “Will you make Dover?”

“I’m not sure. Charlie would like to, but I’ve told him that we may have to wait until he’s a little better. He’s insisted that you’ll see us by Pocono.”

“That’s two weeks,” Hart said, not sounding happy. “What if I place in the top five tomorrow?” Hart asked.

“Then we’ll definitely come to Pocono,” she said, her decision instantaneous. “Although if you don’t, I think we could still probably make it. Charlie really wants to go.”

“That’s not much incentive to win tomorrow,” Hart said.

“What do you want?” Kellie asked, playing along. “For me to tell you that I want you and that I’ll reward you for a top five finish?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” Hart said with a laugh. “Thanks for offering. Don’t make any plans for Wednesday night. I’m coming to collect.”

“Hart!” Kellie said, her heart jumping both with anticipation and nervousness. Was he serious?

“Tell Charlie I’ll call him later. I have to go. See you Wednesday.” And with those parting words the phone went dead in her hand. Dazed, she walked back into the living room. “Hart’s coming in on Wednesday, and he said he’ll call you later. I also told him we’d be at Pocono.”

Charlie’s face burst into the widest smile she’d seen in a long time. “That’s super!” He leapt off the couch to give her a hug, wobbling on his feet as the blood rushed to his head.

“Careful now.”

“I’m fine,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his mother and holding her tight.

She let herself be warmed by the squeeze, feeling the love and adoration her son held for her before he let her go.

“This is the best news I’ve had. And Mom?”

“What?”

“I told you so,” Charlie announced.

“Told me what?” Kellie asked, her forehead creasing as she tried to guess what he meant.

“That Hart was going to fall for you.”

“Charlie, we are so far away from that,” Kellie said quickly.

Charlie grinned, not daunted in the least. “Keep telling yourself that, Mom. Keep telling yourself.”