Page 140 of Lemon Crush

But notonlyhers.

August’s book covers were on there too, along with a copy of Morgan’s master’s degree, wedding photos and those expensive pics they’d taken of their collies wearing scarves and sunglasses. There were images of Bernie singing with her band. Gene ringing the bell as he finished his chemo. Phoebe at the icehouse with Todd. Lucy and Rick in their Marine uniforms with their arms over each other’s shoulders. Chick and Kingston, each separately walking a red carpet, had been placed side by side. I’d also spotted a teenage Kingston holding a camera bigger than his head the night we filmed that horror movie. What was it called again? Some title that had nothing to do with the badly-pieced-together storyline.Duck Vengeance.

So many memories.

There was one of me, working on a car when I was barely eighteen, and another, working on this one, not long after they’d moved back home.

Most significant of all—at least to me—August had included a picture of the two of us at Morgan’s wedding. She was laughing, her flowers covering half her face while I looked down at her like I’d been hit over the head with a two-by-four.

A blind man could have seen it, even then.

August had made this. She’d cobbled together all the disparate pieces of our lives and turned them into something cohesive and mesmerizing. She’d told a story and, like all the others she’d written over the years, it was made of fucking magic.

She didn’t know it, but this would be Jiminy’s first andlast race. I’d already handed over five hundred dollars to Gene and he’d taken it without a word of protest. He didn’t want to ruin this masterpiece any more than I did. Just yesterday, he’d bought Dalton’s high school ride, a green ’76 Plymouth Duster his parents had sold him for two hundred dollars. The body had taken a beating over the decades, but the meticulously maintained high-performance V8 engine would leave most of the vehicles in the paddock in the proverbial dust on the straightaways. Gene was already itching to get started on it.

As soon as I thought of him, he wandered out of the home-base tent toward us, a huge grin on his face and that ridiculous Joe Dirt mullet on his head. He wore his favorite neon-green Hawaiian shirt over his fire suit, with a calculator shoved into the chest pocket. He said it worked, because it represented the many facets of his unique personality. Like Rick’s Coast Guard cap, Army T-shirt and Marine tags. Or Lucy’s lack of a costume.“My life is too layered for a single outfit to convey. But this is usually what I’m wearing while it's happening.”

“Any last-minute issues?” I asked. One of the judges had shown up this morning wanting to talk to him again.

“There are no issues. They love meandour sisters. I left him with Bernie and one of my famous breakfast hot dogs. He was trying to get her number after praising us again for oury u runeclassification. They appreciated our pitch. It tugged on some heartstrings.”

“Maybe they were just relieved you didn’t have a ten-minute one-man play ready to go this time,” Chick said sourly, still pouting over being left out of the fun. “I’ve been hearing strange stories about you and chili in unusual containers.”

Gene guffawed at the reminder. “That first year was legendary.”

“And disgusting,” I told him. I didn’t want to think about thator the part my sister had played in yesterday’s inspection. “Is August with her?”

“I haven’t seen her since the drivers’ meeting. Maybe she’s in the flashy RV that made this guy my new favorite person.”

Chick preened. “I may not drive, but I bring all the best presents. And now you’ll never be led astray by Dave the Dick again.”

He and August had come roaring into the paddock this morning in a high-end RV he’d apparently purchased “for the team” so the drivers and crew had someplace comfortable to relax between shifts. The man might have more money than sense, but no one could say he didn’t take care of his friends.

Since August had initially assumed it was a rental, I was betting she’d try to convince him to return it before the weekend was over.

“Hi guys.” Morgan walked around the side of the tent and slipped her arm through her husband’s. She looked happier than I’d seen her in the last few years. Her recent trip and that fresh start she and August had decided on appeared to be working out for her. “Bernie said one of the judges cried at the pitch, but only after you told him Mom worked onBlind FuryandHighway to Hell. Is that true?”

Gene’s smile softened for his wife. “What can I say? He loves really bad movies.”

“Hey, there were good movies too,” she said. “And she worked on that reboot ofThe Twilight Zonefor a few years in the eighties. Everyone loved that. Why do people only remember the junk?”

“Would we call a Rutger Hauer movie junk?” Chick asked skeptically. “He was inBlade RunnerandLadyhawke.”

“He was also inHobo with a Shotgun,Omega Doomand had a bit part in yourMutant Bountymovie,” Gene countered. “I don’t think he’s all that discerning with his acting roles.”

“Getting him was a coup for that film,” Chick said a little defensively.

When Morgan rolled her eyes at me, I forced myself to smile. “Have you seen your sister?”

“She was saying hello to Mom’s friends and the Haywoods while I was getting them seated in the stands. It’s crazy back there, and you know she’s not big on crowds. Maybe she needed a moment or two to herself. Oh, here comes Kingston. He’s been filming everyone all morning. He might know.”

My jaw tightened in frustration. Where the hellwasshe? I really needed to see her before the race.

I turned to see Kingston striding toward us, with Lucy and Rick hot on his heels.

“They don’t allow drones for any aerial shots,” he complained, “I couldn’t get August to give me a pre-race interview and now Lucy says I can’t plug in my audio recorder to his sound board.”

“You didn’t say anything about touching my equipment,” Lucy shot back. “We already attached three camera mounts inside the car for you. Front view, driver view and rear view. Then we mounted a few exteriors on the bumper to catch the road action. But I have a system in place and I need you not to fuck with it.”

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