A NASCAR Holiday 2: Miracle SeasonSeason of DreamsTaking ControlThe Natural

by Pamela Britton

  There was more licensed merchandise for Debra and Dan, who opened his obligingly and then set it aside. And then Melissa and Tom presented the big gift from Right Time Realty for the whole family, a big-screen high-definition TV on which to watch next season’s races. Jim dutifully recorded their reactions to the surprise. Melissa thought for a moment that Debra was in danger of fainting. Dustin and Angela didn’t look to be far from it, either.

  As for Dan—well, she thought the guy was trying to look pleased for his family’s sake, but for some reason he was having to struggle. She just couldn’t figure Dan out. Was he shy? Bored? So much of a Tom Wyatt “hater” that he couldn’t enjoy anything about sharing a day with him? And why did she get the odd feeling that there was a hint of sadness behind his antipathy? What on earth did he have to feel sad about?

  Overstimulated by the events of the day, Dustin and Angela became even rowdier, squealing and demanding attention, comparing gifts and eventually getting into pushing and fussing. Their mother tried to settle them down, but she was still so flustered herself that she wasn’t particularly successful.

  “How about we get one more picture for a keepsake?” Jim suggested loudly. “This one can go in your family album. Tell you what, why don’t you all put on your Tom Wyatt jackets and pose with Tom in front of the fireplace?”

  Everyone but Dan reached obligingly for their jackets.

  “Put yours on, too, Daddy,” Angela insisted, shoving her arms into her slightly too large green-and-gold garment.

  “It’s a little warm in here, especially in front of the fire,” he said. “I’ll just stand in the back behind the rest of you guys, okay?”

  “No, Dad, wear the jacket,” Dustin chimed in. “You won’t be wearing it long enough to get too hot.”

  “Let’s just get the pictures taken,” his father said, leaving the jacket behind as he moved toward the fire place.

  “Dan, put on the jacket,” Debra said, her voice tight.

  “I don’t want to put it on. Now, do you want me in this picture or not?”

  “Not if you’re just going to keep scowling and ruining everybody’s day.”

  “Fine.” He threw his hands in the air and turned away. “Y’all just go ahead without me.”

  Melissa was horrified by the way her meticulously planned day was falling apart. The kids seemed to be on the verge of tears now. Tom cleared his throat, and she remembered with a slight grimace that he’d told her his own family had always fought at Christmas. This must be bringing back painful memories for him. “There’s really no need for Dan to wear the jacket. It’s no big deal.”

  Everyone whirled on Tom then—even the man he’d been trying to defend. “I can speak for myself,” Dan muttered.

  Tom looked as though he’d had just about enough of the other man’s attitude. His own ready temper was beginning to simmer. “Hey, I was just trying to help. There’s no need to be a jerk about it.”

  “Yeah, well, my family doesn’t need help from a big shot driver who didn’t even make the Chase last season.”

  Debra’s gasp sounded very loud in the shocked silence that followed the outburst. And then she burst into tears and turned to rush out of the room, heading toward the kitchen. Wailing, Angela bolted after her. Dustin seemed uncertain about what to do, but then he gave his father an angry look and followed his sister.

  Tom had definitely had enough. He moved toward the door, looking fully prepared to leave and let Melissa deal with the fallout from this great idea he’d protested from the start.

  “Do not take another step toward that door,” she ordered, loudly enough to make him look around at her in surprise. Tom wasn’t the only one who’d reached his limit. She didn’t lose her temper very often, but she was on the verge of blowing her stack now.

  She glanced at Jim, who hovered with his camera ready, as if uncertain whether this was part of what he was supposed to be recording for posterity. “Why don’t you take a break, Jim. There’s a TV in the sitting room upstairs. I’m sure Tom would be happy for you to relax up there for a while.”

  She shot Tom a look, daring him to argue. He didn’t, though he scowled when he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Now,” she said when the photographer had climbed the stairs, “I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you, but this is ridiculous. It’s Christmas, for crying out loud! I have worked my fingers to the bone for this thing and I’m not going to let you two boneheads ruin it. I’m going to go try to calm down Debra and the kids. You two,” she added, pointing furiously at each of them in turn, “sit in here and be nice to each other or I’m going to…I’m going to do something very unpleasant to both of you.”

  On that admittedly lame threat, she spun on one heel and left the room.

  LONG, TENSELY SILENT moments after Melissa stormed out of the room, Dan cleared his throat, the sound unnaturally loud. “She’s, uh, got a temper, hasn’t she?”

  Remembering the way she had looked with heat in her eyes and a flush of outrage on her cheeks, Tom swallowed. “Apparently.”

  “You’ve never seen it before?”

  “Not like that, no.”

  Dan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Guess she’s seen your temper often enough.”

  Tom squeezed the back of his neck. “Not directed toward her.” And then he remembered the way he had lashed out at her before their guests had arrived and he winced. “Not usually, anyway.”

  Dan turned, paced toward the tree, then took another couple of steps back. Drawing a deep breath, he said, “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was completely out of line. I apologize.”

  Though he wasn’t in the habit of graciously accepting apologies from anyone who had just slashed him in his most vulnerable spot, Tom remembered the way Melissa had pointed her finger at him. Somewhat grudgingly, he said, “Yeah, okay.”

  Giving a snort of laughter that held little humor, Dan sank heavily onto the couch, his hands clasped loosely between his knees, his shoulders a bit hunched. “I guess you wonder what the hell my problem is.”

  “I think it’s obvious that you don’t care for me.” Tom shrugged. “I’m used to that. Usually I do something to deserve the hostility, but I guess you’re entitled to the way you feel.”

  Dan was shaking his head before Tom even finished speaking. “It isn’t that. I don’t have anything personally against you. Like you said, I don’t even know you. Despite what the press says about you sometimes, you seem like an okay guy. You’ve been real good to Debra and the kids today.”

  Getting confused now, Tom asked, “So why the attitude?”

  After a long pause, Dan sighed. “Have you ever had a dream come true and then had it all slip away from you?”

  This time it was Tom who gave the disbelieving laugh. “You did watch the season I just had, right?”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry. Well, maybe you can understand the way I’ve been feeling lately.”

  Tom sat in a chair facing the couch. “Did you fall out of a championship race?”

  “Not exactly. I started my own business. The one I’ve dreamed of owning for most of my life. A fishing resort on a lake in Southwestern Missouri.”

  Tom winced. “It, uh, didn’t make it?”

  “Oh, it hasn’t gone under,” Dan answered gloomily. “Yet. I’m breaking even, was hoping to even start making a profit within the next year or two.”

  “What happened?”

  “A big storm happened. This past summer. Dropped some trees onto cabins, tore up the boat dock. No one was hurt, thank God, but the resort took a serious hit.”

  “You had insurance?”

  “Yeah. High deductible, though, and of course the company wouldn’t cover some of the damage. You know the fine print stuff you get into with insurance claims.”

  Scowling, Tom nodded. “Oh yeah.”

  “I sank every penny I had into that place. All our savings. I’ve been working sunup until long past sundown, 24/7, barely even have time to see
the kids anymore. I didn’t know anything about advertising or promotion, and not nearly as much as I should have about keeping books and records. Everything’s a hell of a lot more complicated and expensive than I expected. The month of business we lost after the storm nearly put us under. I knew we’d have a lean Christmas this year, but the family seemed to understand. And then Debra won this contest.”

  Dan shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I know she was lucky. The money’s going to come in handy. Deb’s getting to meet her hero, see this nice place of yours, and the kids are getting things there’s no way I could have afforded this Christmas.”

  Light was beginning to glimmer for Tom. He nodded.

  Suddenly stiffening again, Dan snapped, “I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m just explaining why I haven’t been in the greatest mood today. I should be at home, working, and instead I’ve been wasting time here, watching…”

  Watching his family enthuse over gifts and food provided by someone else, Tom silently finished for him. Couldn’t be easy for a guy with any masculine pride. Especially when that someone else wasn’t even the driver Dan rooted for, he added ironically.

  “Anyway, now you know,” Dan said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m a jerk, but I’ve got reasons. How about you?”

  Tom shrugged thoughtfully. “I’m a jerk—but I’ve got reasons.”

  This time there was just a hint of genuine amusement in Dan’s laugh.

  A sound from the doorway made Tom look around. Melissa stood there, frowning suspiciously at them, Debra and the kids standing behind her.

  Dan drew a deep breath and stood. “Call the photographer,” he told Melissa. “I’ll wear the danged coat.”

  Debra smiled a bit tremulously. The children were more vocal in their approval of their father’s change of mood. Melissa, Tom noted, seemed relieved—but he couldn’t help noticing that she still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  THE LAST ITEM on Melissa’s agenda for the day was a special holiday toast. Eggnog was poured into fancy glasses and placed in everyone’s hand. A RightTime Realty Christmas-themed banner was draped conspicuously behind them as they all posed with glasses raised.

  “I’ll make the toast,” Tom offered without Melissa even prodding him.

  Everyone looked at him expectantly.

  “To dreams,” he said, glancing from her to Dan. “And the obstacles that sometimes come with them.”

  Dan seemed drily amused, though everyone else looked as confused as Melissa felt. Before she could ask, Tom added more traditionally, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” they echoed and sipped their eggnog while the camera shutter clicked to record the cozy scene.

  As Melissa pretended to enjoy her own beverage, she couldn’t help wondering if this would be the last Christmas toast she and Tom would share.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TOM HAD HIS HOUSE BACK. And it felt great. Turning from the door he had just closed behind his guests, he glanced around the paper-and-ribbon-strewn living room, deciding on the spot that he would never allow his home to be used that way again. No matter whose career it benefited.

  Melissa returned then from the kitchen, where she had just checked to make sure everything in there was cleared away. Her expression was serene, but he thought he saw emotions roiling in her eyes. Despite her attempt to hide it, Melissa was still angry, he decided, studying her more closely.

  He cleared his throat. “He started it.”

  Her voice was cool when she replied, “I’m aware of that. And you handled it pretty well, considering. Your publicist would be proud.”

  So it wasn’t the confrontation with Dan that was still bothering her, he concluded. She was still steamed about the quarrel they’d had prior to the arrival of their guests.

  Kneading the back of his neck, he said, “About the things I said earlier—”

  “Actually, I’ve decided you were right,” she surprised him by saying, bending to gather a handful of torn wrapping paper.

  He watched her uncertainly. “About…?”

  “About our relationship.” Stuffing the paper into a garbage bag, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she faced him, looking somehow nervous and resolute at the same time. “You were right.”

  Now he was just confused. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “We’re too tied up in our careers, you and I. You’re a driver, and I represent your primary sponsor. It’s a complicated situation we should have acknowledged from the beginning.”

  “Okay, we’ve acknowledged it can get sticky. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t.”

  She shook her head, and now she looked more sad than angry. Which made his chest go so tight he found himself having a bit of trouble breathing. “It’s not going to work, Tom,” she said.

  “What’s—what’s not going to work?”

  “Us.”

  He tugged at his open shirt collar, wondering how it had suddenly gotten so tight. “Don’t say that. We’ll work it out.”

  “No.” She blinked, as if forcefully keeping her eyes dry. “We can’t. Not when you never know when I’m being your girlfriend and when I’m the sponsor. Not when you feel like our relationship depends on your performance on the track, or in front of the cameras. Not when so many people have wondered what would happen to us if RightTime and Shaw Racing decide to go their separate ways in the future—and neither of us could ever give them a definite answer.”

  “Whatever anyone might have said to you, I have never seen you as a way to secure my sponsorship,” he said flatly, willing her to believe him.

  “I know,” she whispered. “We’ve hardly seen each other at all, have we?”

  “Melissa—”

  She moved abruptly toward the door. “I need to go. I’ll send someone tomorrow to clear away the rest of the mess and the decorations.”

  He caught her arm, feeling as if he were in a spinning car over which he had no control. “Don’t go. Let’s talk about this.”

  She looked at his hand on her arm, and then slowly up at his face. “I’m sorry, Tom. I just really need to go.”

  To get where he was in his life, he had fought, schemed, sweated and persevered. He had never once begged. Because he found himself entirely too close to doing so now, he released her arm without another word. Catching her breath, she turned and rushed out the door, letting it slam behind her.

  Sinking onto the couch, Tom looked at the Christmas tree, which looked rather bare and abandoned now that the holiday was pretty much over.

  He knew exactly how that felt.

  “IT’S A SHAME Tom couldn’t join us today,” Nancy Hampton said as she and Melissa sat in Nancy’s living room, sipping hot tea in the glow of the tiny white lights that draped the massive tree and nearly every other part of the room.

  Nancy’s house had been professionally decked out for the holiday parties she’d given, every room coordinated in white and silver decorations. She hadn’t had to lift a finger, which, to Melissa, wasn’t nearly as much fun as doing the holiday trimming oneself. She’d had a lovely time doing Tom’s house, she thought wistfully. They’d had an absolutely beautiful setting in which to break up.

  “Yes, well, he said to send his regrets,” Melissa fibbed, keeping her eyes on the bedecked fireplace in which a small gas fire burned tidily.

  “I’m glad the contest came off okay,” Nancy murmured, stretching her long, slender legs in front of her, her stocking feet crossed on a dainty footstool. “I have to confess I was concerned about it. There were so many things that could have gone wrong.”

  So many things had gone wrong, Melissa thought with a pang. She hadn’t yet been able to tell her parents that she and Tom were finished. She just couldn’t make herself say the words out loud yet. “Yes, it took a lot of work to bring it off. But the LeMays seemed satisfied and the PR photos will look great for the company. And for Tom.”

  “He certainly needed that.” Nancy shook her head in tolerant exa
speration. “To be such a nice man, he certainly has an unfortunate tendency to show his worst side when things go wrong, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. He does. He’s trying to do better.”

  “I know. He’s worked very hard the past month to do everything his owner and sponsors have asked of him. Now if only he can keep this up next season, despite how he does on the track.”

  “I’m sure he will. And I expect that he’ll have a good season next year. The new crew chief is working very hard to rebuild the team and get them back into Victory Lane. Tom’s one of the best drivers in the sport. He won’t stay down for long.”

  Maybe he would do even better this year, without the distraction of trying to maintain a long-distance relationship, Melissa thought sadly.

  “You’ve always been his most ardent supporter,” her mother replied with a smile. “So, did the two of you have a chance to talk about the future while you were together, or did you let yourself get too bogged down in the details of the contest?”

  “The, uh, future?”

  “Yes. You don’t plan to keep drifting along just seeing each other once a month or so, the way you have been, do you? It’s obvious that you’re good together. You’re a positive influence on him—and the reverse is also true. He gives you something to think about besides your work. So when are you going to take things to the next level? Make the relationship more official?”

  “I, um—” Melissa looked down into her teacup, unable to come up with anything coherent to say.

  “Melissa?” Her mother set her own cup aside, an expression of concern on her perfectly made-up face. “What’s wrong? Have you and Tom had a falling-out?”

  Swallowing hard, Melissa confessed, “We broke up. Specifically, I broke it off.”

  “You? But, honey, why? You seemed so crazy about him.”

  “That hasn’t changed.”

  “Then why did you break up with him?”

  “He accused me of trying to control him. He told me he didn’t know when I was being his girlfriend and when I was acting as vice president of RightTime Realty.” And the very worst thing he had done was to let her leave, she thought, unable to say those words aloud because she knew exactly how irrational they sounded.