“Don’t forget the sheet method. When she goes to rehab, let’s rearrange those sheets so you can move her easier.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Judith.” After about an hour, I scolded myself. Why am I worried? I’m a very good nurse—this is what I was born to do. I was due to take a break for lunch and before I went, Judith announced that my review was over. I was anxious, almost even panicky. I thought I’d messed something up, other than arriving late. “What? What did I do wrong? I thought this was going to last for four hours.”
“Come see me when you get back from lunch and we’ll go over the review I’ll be submitting.”
I left the floor feeling dejected and Margaret caught me, “Hey, hold the elevator.” She walked in and said, “I didn’t see you this morning. How did your review go?”
“I don’t know yet. Judith’s asked me to go see her when I get back.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Indeed, it does. I’ll need a drink before this day is over with.”
“Hey, I heard the doctors have booze in their break room,” Margaret said with a smile, as her dark eyes widened. She had a really nice smile, but she gossiped too much for my taste.
“I doubt that. They can’t drink and do their job,” I laughed at her. “Where on earth did you hear that?” She looked up at the ceiling and pretended to be looking at something beside me. “Please tell me you haven’t been hanging out in the doctor’s lounge.”
“Well, if I was…it was by invitation. Are you jealous?” she giggled. “I bet there’s some hot intern here who’d love to play doctor with you!”
“Margaret! No! And no, I’m not jealous. You shouldn’t be drinking on the job, that’s all.” I didn’t mean to sound harsh—I meant to sound big sister-ish, but apparently it didn’t come out like that. The elevator opened and she stomped out, leaving me behind. Must’ve pissed her off.
Lunch was boring. A sad-looking chicken patty on a wheat bun. I opted for baked potato chips and a diet soda. I wasn’t even that hungry, even though I’d missed breakfast this morning. I wanted to run upstairs and hear what Judith had to say, but I had a whole hour to kill until then. I checked my phone—two texts from Dylan. The first one was just a smiley face and the second one said, “Thinking about you this morning.” I couldn’t help but smile and I sent him a smiley back. He’d behaved himself fairly well the other night, except for the passionate kiss at the door, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d put other demands on me and I wasn’t sure what my answer was going to be. It had been a long time since I’d gotten naked with anyone and it was beginning to bother me.
My phone rang and I walked to the big glass window for a better signal. I didn’t bother to check the screen, since only a handful of people had my number. “Hello?”
“Mollie?” Oh Lord. It was Dad. I put my hand on my hip, my stress move, and turned away from the window.
“What is it, Dad?” I heard his arrogant laugh.
“Is that any way to talk to your father?” My answer was silence, stone cold silence. “I see you’ve still got a chip on your shoulder about my decisions, in regards to your care.”
“That’s not the best analogy I would use. You put me out of the house, Dad. You made an assumption about me and acted upon it because you felt like you could control my life,” I whispered furiously into the phone. I was beginning to attract some attention, so I pushed the door open and walked outside into the atrium.
“That’s what you think?”
“That’s what I know. What do you want?”
“Mollie, I must say I find this level of hostility quite disturbing. I did what I did because I love you. I wanted you to know and understand that getting tied up with that riff-raff was the wrong course of action for your life. I hear you’ve been following my advice and I’d like to ask you to come home. No strings attached.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and I could barely believe what I was hearing. “Seriously? Are you freakin’ kidding me? Do you really think I’m going to drop everything and come back like a good little girl?” I laughed, and I kept on laughing. “What a ridiculous thing to say to me. Like I’m stupid enough to fall for that.” I laughed again—I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore and maybe that’s what brought on the laughter. I didn’t know, and I probably looked like a raving lunatic, but I didn’t care.
“Mollie, it’s obvious you haven’t matured at all. Maybe we should talk later when you can pull yourself together.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes. I’d laughed so hard, I’d cried. “Oh my God! All this time of riding buses, eating top ramen, wondering what the next day would bring, and you have the audacity to tell me I haven’t matured? What a joke! Sorry, Dad, but I don’t choose you—I choose me. My own job, my own friends and my own money. That’s it.”
“I see. Well, it sounds like you haven’t changed all that much, after all.”
“Nope. I’m just better at being me, but thanks anyway.” I hung up the phone and smiled from ear to ear. Yes! Damn! God, it felt good!
I practically skipped down the hall after lunch and I couldn’t believe I’d turned down that grouchy old man, but I did, and I’d never felt as free as I did in that moment. When I returned to Judith’s office, I wasn’t worried in the least and Judith had plenty of good things to say—in the beginning, at least. Then came the critiques, which were always hard to hear, no matter who you are. I asked questions and took notes about what she was saying until, eventually, she put me out of my misery.
“Congratulations, Mollie. You’ve definitely passed your review, and I think you have nothing to worry about. Have you decided where you want to work?”
“Here, of course. Everyone’s been so good to me. I’d hate to leave.”
She smiled at me, “And we’d love to have you, but keep your options open. You have a promising future and a very promising career ahead of you. I’m so happy to have worked with someone who has such a good work ethic. It’s a rare thing these days.”
“Thank you, Judith. That means a lot to me.”
“Okay, dear. So, we’ll see you on Monday,” she replied. I was so glad to finally have that confirmation of a well-paying job.
I left the hospital feeling happy, but also a touch sad. Who was I going to share this day with? Natalie was at a new design house and I really wished I could talk to Jack. I pictured his lopsided grin, crazy hair and glittering green eyes.
At a red light, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “You really need to get over him, Mollie.” My phone rang, it was Mr. Jernigan. I didn’t normally answer my phone while driving, but I had to take the attorney’s call.
“Hi, Mr. Jernigan.”
“Good afternoon, Mollie. I’m calling to let you know your father has contacted me. He’s decided that he isn’t going to fight with you anymore over the trust, which means those funds will be released in about one to two weeks. That’s good news, I’d say.”
“That is the best news! I heard from him today. He wanted me to come home.”
Ferris sounded amazed, “That guy has some nerve. I mean, I don’t mean to offend you—”
“Oh please, don’t worry about that. I have no illusions about my father. He’s not a nice person, but at least he relented—finally.”
“Well, I’ll have more details for you soon. Apparently, he’s looking at his calendar to see when he’s free and will call me back.”
“That’s great. I’m sure I can take an hour or two off if I need to.” He didn’t answer me, and I felt like he wanted to say something else. “Is that it? Everything okay, sir?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve talked with Jack recently or not, but things are coming along well for him. He’s gotten that racing contract.”
“Oh. That’s wonderful.”
“Just thought you might want to know.”
“I thank you for that.” After a few pleasantries, I hung up the phone. I’d gotten a great revi
ew, told my Dad off and heard good news about Jack. On top of all that, I’d receive my trust soon.
My chaotic life was looking up. Way up.
Chapter Ten — Jack
“Look, Jack. Photo shoots are part of this job, so put the jacket on, sit in the fucking chair, wear whatever makeup I put on you, and take your fucking picture.”
I appreciated Angela’s straightforward personality, but she must’ve had a bad day. The production assistant didn’t usually snap like that at the drivers when we complained. We were guys…we were supposed to give her shit, and she was supposed to take it with a smile. We’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of days, all fifteen or so of us, and between the drivers and the production team, we took up a whole bus just to travel to these stupid locations. Tomorrow was my mother’s funeral, but I hadn’t told a soul about her passing. That would just open up opportunities for endless conversations about Nellie—or my mother, as Dr. Grey wanted me to refer to her as—and I didn’t want to go there. Despite the therapist’s hopes, I wasn’t a talker—not about my feelings, at least. I could talk for days about engines and racecar legends, but not emotions. I had a long way to go before any of that would come out of me.
For now, I had plenty to distract me. We were off to another crazy locale—the first had been a beach—although I had no idea what four guys swimming in the ocean had to do with racing. Next, we posed for pictures in front of an ultra-modern building downtown, all of us wearing suits no less, and today we were going to the desert. At least our cars would be there, but I prayed that the camera crew wasn’t going to demand that we sprawl out across our hoods—I’m afraid I’d have to draw the line there.
Actually, I didn’t mind the photo shoots, but no way was I going to tell those other dudes that. It was kind of cool to be photographed and hear all the compliments, but it wasn’t too cool when those clowns piled on. “Wow, Fitz! You’re a natural!”
“Shut the fuck up!” I sure gave it back to them when it was their turn, and I felt sorry for Wyatt. He had one look with his round head, red hair and short stature. The guy just wasn’t photogenic, at least, not from what I could tell, but then again, what did I know? I wasn’t a professional.
“Didn’t you used to have long hair?” Angela fussed over me while she trimmed the hair around my ears.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Ugh, I bet it was gorgeous. Why on earth did you cut it?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to try something new.”
“Sure, I bet it had something to do with a girl.” I didn’t answer her, so she paused and smiled at me. “Okay, let’s change the subject. Hey! You have tattoos, don’t you?” Angela’s eyes looked huge behind her oversized glasses. She was a tall girl with big hands and multi-colored hair. She declared herself to be the wild child of the makeup world, and I believed her. Officially, she was a production assistant, but makeup was her first love. Usually, she was a friendly young woman, but today…not so much. In her normal mode, she talked non-stop. I knew all her thoughts on religion, politics and all about her life as a farm girl from Mississippi.
“Tattoos? Yeah, I have a few.”
“Really? What you got? Where are they? Please tell me you don’t have a tramp stamp.”
I laughed, and she scolded me because she was trying to apply even makeup, whatever that meant. “No, I don’t. Well, let’s see. I have the words ‘kill zone’ with a skull on my right hip, a Celtic band right here on my left arm, and this skull on my right arm.” I wasn’t about to tell her about the Prince Albert piercing, I’d keep that part to myself.
“Really? You have kill zone on your right hip? Why the hell would you do that?” Angela laughed at the idea. “Is it like…” she bent over closer to my ear and whispered, “close to your dick?” Then she stood back up with a smirk on her face and asked in her sexy, southern accent, “Is it a warning sign or a promise of what’s to come? Pun intended!”
I laughed, which caused her to drop the makeup in her hand and yell out a ‘shit!’ before she started on my face again. “I was at a party. I was drunk and it was on a dare. I wanted something different than everyone else.”
She backed away and looked at me incredulously with her eyeliner in her hand. “Really? Oh my God. What kind of parties did you go to?”
I waved my hand. I’d never try to explain where I’d been and what I’d done. I really wanted to put it all behind me. “The worst kind—you don’t want to know.”
“Wow, I’m jealous. Almost done.” She sponged away and said, “What can you tell me about Wyatt?”
“The driver?”
“No, stupid. The sheriff. Of course, the driver. Does he have a girlfriend or a wife?”
“I don’t know. We’re not friends and we sure as hell don’t sit around chatting about women when we do talk. Why? You interested in him?”
“Me? No, someone else was asking about him.” I didn’t believe her.
“Come on, it’s you isn’t it?”
She playfully popped me on the back of my head. “So what if it is?”
I whispered, “You and Wyatt? That’s crazy. He’s like half your height.” I could tell by the look on her face that I must’ve hurt her feelings.
“Gee thanks, Jack. And to think I had you down as a nice guy.” She threw her makeup down and shouted, “He’s ready!” as she walked away.
“Actually, I’m not,” I mumbled, and got up from the chair. I had neither the time nor the desire to follow her around and apologize. The photographer, a short-tempered fucker, wasn’t going to wait around for me to make nice, as he put it. He stalked over to me, examined my face, zipped up my jacket and tossed me a helmet.
“This isn’t mine,” I told him. I’d hoped he’d take his pictures quickly, because we were about to get hot and sweaty real quick in the desert heat.
“It is today.”
Fuck you. “Fine. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Hold it, like this.” He shoved the helmet under my arm and walked to his camera. I’m going to knock the crap out of this motherfucker if he touches me again. For the next fifteen minutes, I did what I was told to do and when it was over, I got back on the bus for a shower. I spotted Angela sitting in the back with her headphones on, looking out the window. I sat beside her and she stared at me. Yep, she’s still pissed. At least, she pulled her ear buds out to hear what I had to say.
“What do you want?”
“I’m sorry that I made a comment about your height. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. Actually, I was referring to the fact that Wyatt was so short.”
“In comparison to me, an Amazon?”
“No. In comparison to a leprechaun, or say, Napoleon.”
She smiled, “Maybe he is, but that wasn’t cool. I guess I’m just having a bad day.”
“I kind of noticed. I don’t normally talk about feelings but my therapist said I have to try, so tell me, what’s up?”
“You really want to know, or are you going to make more jokes?”
I crossed my heart and unzipped my ridiculous leather jacket.
“Have you ever met someone and you know right away that he—or in your case I’m guessing—she—was the one? I mean right from the very first moment? I’ve never had that happen and quite frankly, it freaks me out a little.”
“Yeah, I have. There was this girl once. She’s beautiful, but I was a fucked up mess.”
“Really?” she looked at me and seemed genuinely interested. “What was her name?”
“Mollie.”
“What do I do? Do I play it cool? I mean, normally I’m just open about how I feel and what I want, but this dude, I don’t know. He’s not the kind of guy that responds to frank talk. I think he likes more feminine girls, like Libby, the little blonde from IT. I don’t think I even have a chance.”
I’d never given relationship advice before—ever, but she was clearly asking me what she should do, or so I thought she was.
“I’ll be the fi
rst to admit that I don’t know much about love and relationships. My great love has always been my car,” I laughed. “But I think you’re pretty special. You’re honest and fun. You have great style, and you know who you are. I say go for it. If he acts like a dick, then at least you’ll know he’s a dick. But then again, what do I know? I’m just a racecar driver and I’m single. Probably will be for a long time.”
“I don’t believe that. I think you should call Mollie or go see her. Show her your new jacket—she’ll love that.” I rolled my eyes. “No seriously, you’ll be a star soon—and probably a big one if you do well on the track. Stockton really believes in Redemption Road. Once they throw their weight behind something, they work to make it happen. I don’t think you know just how lucky you are.”
“Uh oh. Here comes Wyatt now and he doesn’t look happy. That photographer is an asshole. I’m going to get in the shower before he does. I can’t walk around with makeup and eyeliner on my face.”
Angela sat up in her seat, fixed her hair and hid her ear buds. “Okay, talk to you later. Go away! Here he comes.” I chuckled and eased into the bus’s one and only shower. It was a luxury that I planned on enjoying. The cool water felt good on my hot skin. I needed this. Once I’d gotten out and put my jeans and t-shirt back on, Wyatt and Angela were talking, although I had no way of knowing how things would go. I hoped he wasn’t a jerk to her. She was a nice kid and I liked her.
I found an empty seat and thought about taking a nap while I waited on the rest of the drivers to finish their photo ops, but it didn’t happen. Instead, I thought about Nellie’s funeral and went over the itinerary in my mind. No way was I going to have a big religious event—Nellie didn’t have a religious bone in her body, but I was going to send her off in style anyway. Mr. Jernigan had found her a nice dress and the cosmetician at the funeral home did her hair and put some makeup on her. I barely recognized her with make-up on when I’d viewed her the day before. I tried not to think about her being in an icebox until the funeral. That was freaky. I never knew anyone who’d died before, well besides some junkies and gangbangers, but they weren’t people I’d loved.
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