Page 3 of Too Close To Call

I can’t help but chuckle at the words that come out of my child as she tells Woody all about her “harrowing” morning and the lost shoe. I kiss the top of her head and Woody gives me a nod, letting me know he has her until my friend Carina picks her up later in the day.

I’m not sure what I would have done without the guys and Carina when Daisy was born. I’d lost everything and wasn’t in a good headspace for a long time. I shake the memories from my brain. I don’t have time for a walk down that lane.

When I enter the training room, I find the students already in groups of five. That’s the way the course works. “Good morning, everyone. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll get started. First, I’d like to welcome you all to the Dale Hamilton Defensive Driving and Stunt School. Whether you’re here to further your stunt career or to learn how to power through an icy skid, I can assure you that by the end of the course, you’ll have the foundation to build on and achieve whatever your goals are.”

One guy in the back raises his hand. I can tell from the playful glint in his eyes that he’s going to be the joker of the group. “What if the reason I’m here is just for fun?” he asks and the group he’s in chuckles.

“Then I can guarantee you’ll have the time of your life. Today we’re going to spend time on getting you comfortable in the cars and familiar with weight transfer and how the brakes work. We’ll do slaloms and then throw in 180s. You’ll learn how to come in hot to a specific mark, being precise in where your car ends up. We’ll rep this drill over and over, creating muscle memory and skill sets to hit your mark every time.”

I pick up the clipboard and grin. “Trust me. Movie directors won’t hire you unless you can slide your car into place where the shot needs you to be and not into a very expensive camera. The crew will also appreciate you not running them over. The second day, you’ll be much more comfortable with your vehicle and we’ll cover backwards driving. Doing it right isn’t as easy as you may think.” The students chuckle as they always do when I get to that part of the welcoming spiel.

“The third day, we’ll put everything together. More skid turns and then jam car, which is a timing drill that puts all the techniques you learned into one flowing, moving piece with smoke screaming off the tires, and you’ll leave pumped up on success and adrenaline.”

I stop and look around at the many different faces in the crowd. Some are scared, some are cocky and think they know it all, some are excited, and like the dude in the back, some just want to have fun. “Okay, each group has been assigned to a team and a car. You’ll rotate throughout the day. Any questions before we get started?”

“How can I get in your group?” Laughter rumbles around the room and I smile. There’s always at least one in every session.

I patiently explain, “I don’t have a specific group. I’ll be checking in on all the groups and offering assistance as needed. I will tell you if you show a unique aptitude, I’ll spend one-on-one time with you on the last day to up your game.”

The guy pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!”

I know there’s no chance he’s going to be a star student. Already I can predict he’s not going to listen to the instructors or be willing to learn how to change his bad habits.

Another guy raises his hand. “Are you really Dale Hamilton’s daughter?”

His question takes me by surprise and I will the stinging in my eyes to stop. Even after all these years, it still hurts. I keep the smile on my face and nod, replying with a simple, “Yes. Now, let’s get out there and burn some rubber.”

I walk out with everyone to help them find their correct starting points and to answer any questions they may have been too uncomfortable to ask in front of the group.

As soon as we step outside, the smell from the track, warmed by the sun, hits my nose. Instantly, that thrilling sensation of anticipation sizzles through me. My life has literally been spent on a racetrack. That’s the way it is when your father is legendary in the racing world. I thought I’d spend my career going in the same direction as my father, but that didn’t work out.

From an early age, I followed my dad around, wanting to learn everything. I knew I wanted a career in racing. I started out with go-carts before I was ten. Moved on to motorcycles and was driving before I even had my license. Nothing big, mostly dirt tracks in small towns or lower-level competitions. I only had a few years of driving big tracks under my belt when I went off to college and put my life on hold. Dad was determined I’d have a college degree. My plan had always been to come back to the world—and the man—I loved.

My thoughts go dark. That’s when my life changed. I lost my father to a horrible crash, lost the man I thought I’d spend forever with, and lost any chance I had at racing due to an unexpected pregnancy. All that within the span of a year.

I’ve spent years trying to find my footing again and be truly happy. Maybe I could if I wasn’t responsible for the way my life turned out. Guilt over how I hurt Case is a constant ache.

After all this time, he probably never thinks of me, or if he does, I’m sure it’s not in a favorable light. The therapist I’d seen said I needed to forgive myself, but how am I supposed to do that when the words that broke us came from my mouth?

It’s been a few years since I’ve tried to contact him. Should I try again… or should I let the dozens of letters sitting unopened and returned in a box in the back of my closet be enough of an answer?

The one bright light during all of this has been Daisy.

By the end of the day, I’m dragging as I drive to Carina’s house to pick up my child. Carina and I have been best friends since middle school and Daisy loves her. I pull up to her white cottage by the lake and walk right in. I find them in the sewing room, or as Carina refers to it, her office.

Carina has always had a flair for fashion and was making her own clothes when we met all those years ago. A few years back, she started putting her designs up for sale on social media and her career took off.

“Mommy!” Daisy squeals and runs to throw herself into my arms. I grin at Carina, bent over the sewing machine. “Come look what Auntie Car is helping me with.”

Daisy grabs my hand and pulls me over to the work table. This is where I have insufficient abilities because all I see are scraps of vividly colored fabric. “Oh, wow. It’s beautiful.”

Carina chuckles. “Daisy, you know your mom has no clue what we’re doing.”

Daisy giggles and grins up at me, totally amused that I need help. “It’s a dress for Bella.”

No matter how many ways I tilt my head, I can’t get a dog dress out of it. “That’s incredible, sweetie. Why don’t you go gather your things so we can get home? I thought we’d have pizza for dinner.”

Daisy’s bright blue eyes balloon. “Pizza? We never get pizza for just a regular dinner.”

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