Page 2 of Big Trouble
I had to keep thinking it, if only to convince myself.
“Good. Even though I’m scared to death every time you go out on the track, you need to do something you love. After the awful news about Wes, you have to make every second count.”
A lump formed in my throat as I thought of Wes Young, one of my best friends. A few weeks ago, he’d been hit by a car while changing a tire in the rain and died. I’d been too unwell to come back for the funeral, hooked up to all sorts of machines myself. On the day, I’d refused to speak to anyone and had lay in bed, facing the wall, silent tears running down my cheeks.
“How’s Scarlett been?” I asked.
Scarlett Winters was, I corrected myselfhad beenWes’ girlfriend. Together since high school, they were the perfect couple, the twosome everyone aspired to, the picture book relationship. To have it blown apart must have been devastating.
“She’s doing okay as far as I know. You should go and see her.”
“I will. Let me get settled in first, though.” My chest constricted as I thought about the visit. What would I say? How would I be able to comfort Scarlett?
“And you know Andre’s back? He’s working over at the Country Club.”
I knew all about it. Andre Cash and I had been in pretty regular contact, particularly since Wes’ accident. He’d kept me up to speed on most things Scarlett related, but I was still pretty scared to actually see her. Once I’d found my feet again, I’d go and see her.
“Yup. I’d heard.” I could tell Mom wasn’t aware I knew most of this stuff already, but I didn’t want to deprive her of feeling like she had more knowledge than me.
“It will be nice for all of you to catch up again, after everything that’s happened. You, Andre, Maddox.”
At the mention of Maddox Riley’s name, I tensed. We’d been close in high school, right up until the time we became rivals on the racetrack. Turned out I had all the talent and got the backing. Maddox had been jealous of me ever since.
“I’m sure we will. Like I said, I’ll take a couple of days to get used to being home first.”
“Well, you don’t really have a couple of days, Jackie-boy. You start therapy tomorrow.”
I winced as she used my nickname from childhood. It may have been cute when I was seven, but I was twenty-four now.
“How could I forget with you being my personal nurse?” I joked. “It was only a small accident, I smashed my ankle. I’ll get better in no time.” As I tried to get up, my leg gave way beneath me and I crumpled back into the chair.
Mom’s mouth pursed in a straight line. “Better in no time? I don’t think that’s the case. You need to get some exercises to help you recover faster. Starting tomorrow.” She gave me ‘the look’ again and I knew I had no choice.
Who was I to argue?
I held my hands up. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. We’ll see what happens. One or two visits won’t hurt, I guess.” I smiled sweetly at her. “And maybe I could get one of those pills now?”
Mom snickered as she delved into her pocket for the pill bottle. “You’re so cute when you think you have a choice!” She unscrewed the top and shook an oval tablet into her palm before passing them over to me. “There you go. You get one, five times a day.” She recited the instructions off the label then looked at the clock on the cooker. “It’s five thirty. You can’t have any more until before bed.”
Gratefully I popped it into my mouth and swallowed it down with the glass of water Mom placed on the table in front of me.
“Hey, did I mention that Ciara is back in town? She finished college and is working as a physical therapist.” She grinned.
“Ciara Ash? Please tell me she’s not my therapist…”
“Of course not.” Mom shook her head. “Then you wouldn’t be able to date her.” She winked.
I’d never put her down as Cupid, but it seemed Mom had other ideas as to who could take over as my personal nurse.
Ciara and I had been on one, maybe two dates in senior year. She was cute, but not my type. I hoped Mom wouldn’t start playing matchmaker. I didn’t plan on staying around that long. As soon as I was fixed, I’d be back racing again.
“Why don’t you go and unpack? I’ll start dinner.” Mom turned away and started looking in the refrigerator for supplies.
With great effort, I heaved myself out of the chair, using my cane for support. It took more effort than expected to get upstairs, so I was grateful Mom had already taken my suitcase to my room. I couldn’t have managed the stairs otherwise. I had to pick my battles carefully.
As I walked into the room, I noticed Mom had framed a photograph of me, Wes, Andre and Maddox and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. Given our choice of clothing and bad hair, I’d guess it was from the end of senior year. Dropping onto the bed, I picked it up, staring at our happy faces, full of hope and excitement. How things had changed in only a few short years. I still couldn’t believe Wes was gone, that I wasn’t going to see him ever again. My own brush with mortality had brought things into perspective. Mom was right. I had to do something I loved. And if that meant spending every day in physical therapy, I’d do it.
My phone buzzed and I dragged it from the pocket of my jeans.
