Page 16 of Big Trouble
Mom was ready for work. She was a receptionist in a lawyer’s practice. If anyone slapped me with a lawsuit for my treatment of Lo, perhaps she’d be able to get me some kind of deal.
“There’s cereal or toast for breakfast. And I saved some of the stew for your lunch. The rest is in the freezer.” She slipped on her jacket. “What are you going to do today?”
“Dunno. Watch TV? Catch up with Andre again? Maybe take a nap.” The corner of my mouth quirked at the extent of my activities.
Mom shook her head. “No.”
I mirrored her action. “No?”
“You’re here to recover,” she reminded me.
“Yeah, to rest and recuperate.” I waited for her to get it, but she shook her head again.
“Part of recovery is getting back to work, getting your life together.”
“I know that, but I’m not there yet.”
“Jack, what if you can’t race a bike again?”
Those were the words I’d dreaded hearing. So far, no-one had said them directly to me, but I wondered whether those kinds of discussions were going on behind my back. Was that why I hadn’t heard from the team boss? I was going to be dumped?
I wasn’t naive. I knew it happened. There were other racers who had accidents and took time out. Someone from the level below would step up and take their place on the team for as long as it took for the rider to get back into shape. Hell, I’d even been that reserve rider. It had been how my talent had been recognized and had earned me a permanent place on the team.
“Until someone tells me I can’t, I’m banking on getting back in the saddle.”
That included the voices in my head which had been telling me I shouldn’t do it. The voices that woke me in the middle of the night saying I was a coward for not getting straight back onto a bike. The ones which were getting louder and louder the more time wore on.
I was scared they were going to win, which was why I didn’t tell anyone about them.
She sighed and I realized she was finding this as difficult as I was. “You’re stubborn, Jack Cairney, just like your father was.”
I nodded, not able to find the right words. I was thirteen when he died. Well, when the drugs took him. A prescription painkillers overdose.
No wonder Mom worried about me.
“I found you a project to keep you busy until you do know what’s going to happen.”
“You haven’t signed me up for some community program, have you?” I shuddered at the thought.
“No, Jack, Cali Cross doesn’t need that.” She knew me too well. “There was a bike for sale, so I bought it. Needs a bit of fixing up, but I thought it would be something to interest you.” Mom tossed me a set of keys. “You’ll find it in the garage.”
My jaw dropped. “You did what?”
A smile crossed her face. “I think the words you’re looking for Jack, are ‘thank you’.”
With that, she picked up her purse from the counter and disappeared.
I rolled the keys around in my hand.What the hell had she done?
Without bothering to get dressed properly, I hobbled out to the garage. God knows what the neighbors must have thought seeing me in my underwear before nine o’clock in the morning. I heaved open the door and switched on the lights.
Underneath a tarp in the center of the garage there was indeed a bike. It was an old, beaten up Ducati, a predecessor of the one I raced on. And it was in worse shape than me. It would be like trying to fix Humpty Dumpty with Gorilla Glue. I chuckled.
As I stared at it, the accident replayed itself in my head in slow motion. The bike squirrelling out of control underneath me, the sound of my ankle snapping, the crunch of the landing. Maybe if I could get myself back into shape, then I could do the same for this bike.
I hated when Mom was right about things.
After breakfast, I showered and dressed and went back into the garage. I found an old deck chair and sat it close to the bike. I circled it slowly, moving the chair around with me as I did so, prodding and poking, making notes on the condition, jotting down what parts I’d need. Before I knew it, two hours had disappeared. I hadn’t realized I could get so involved in something. And I hadn’t thought about rehab once. Or Lo. Of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about her now I didn’t have anything else to focus on. That luscious dark mane, those chocolate brown eyes and the perfect body. My dick stirred. Now really wasn’t the time. Plus, I doubted I’d ever see her again after my outburst at our appointment. Putting all thoughts of Lo Garcia to one side, I put all my energy into the parts list instead.
