Revved: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by A. M. Mahler

  We stopped outside on the front stoop, and I locked the door. Maggie held out her hand for the keys.

  “I think we should take your Jeep,” she said. “It has seven seats. There will be plenty of room for us all to ride in one car.” There she was using that “we” word again. It was almost as if she was going to stay with me and not just drop me off in Maine.

  I dropped the keys in her hand, and we walked to the car. She took my bag from me and opened the front passenger seat, waiting until I was fastened in before closing my door. She walked to the back hatch, opened it up, and tossed my bag in. Did I really just let her carry my bag? Who was I right now?

  Maggie hopped into the driver’s side and made all the adjustments to the seat and mirrors. I put my seat back and closed my eyes, willing the last hour of my life to disappear.

  Maggie

  S

  imon stayed mostly catatonic in the seat next to me as I drove along in the dark. I didn’t try to engage him in conversation to keep me entertained. I just let him stare out the window rarely blinking. I hoped he wasn’t pissed at me that I just invited myself along for what was sure to be a very emotional time with his family. I just ... I needed to take care of him. People grieve in different ways, and what if he was the kind that never ate or drank too much and got nasty? Someone needed to make sure he was okay. I didn’t know his mother, but I assumed she would understandably be a mess, too. They had all those boys now and someone needed to make sure they were okay, too.

  It did not take superior intellect to tell me why I inserted myself in his grief. I was unequivocally head over heels in love with this man. We didn’t know all the details yet of each other, like how big his family was and whether we would show up at his mother’s and there would be aunts and uncles there perfectly capable of helping, but I knew Simon. I knew the type of person he was. I knew I felt safe with him, and the way he looked at me ... well, it was the way my dad looked at my mom, and though I was inexperienced in the love and relationship department, I knew that when you saw that look directed at you, you grabbed hold of it and held on for dear life.

  I called Ryan from my apartment when I was packing. He was, of course, totally understanding, and told me to take as much time as Simon needed. I could hear the question in his voice. Why are you going? But he didn’t ask. I’m sure I’ll have a few things to answer for when we get home.

  My brother on the other hand didn’t understand why I needed to run off to Maine with someone I’d only known about six weeks. He felt bad for Simon, of course, but what did his brother dying have to do with me? Jesse didn’t know the extent of my feelings for Simon. He was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. Commitment was for old people like our parents. I wasn’t willing to get into it with him. The next few days would be about Simon and what he needed, not my brother’s need to feel like he was protective of his sister. Admittedly, I never gave him much to be protective over. I didn’t date until now.

  My only sign that Simon was in any way aware of his surroundings came when he reached over and grabbed my hand, firmly lacing our fingers together. I brought our joined hands up to my lips and kissed each of his fingers before settling them down into my lap. He rubbed his other hand down his face and turned from the passenger window to stare out the front windshield. There wasn’t much to see but inky black. The road was only visible for about ten or twelve feet in front of us by the headlights.

  We drove in silence. I didn’t want to put the radio on. It was like Murphy’s Law, when you were hurting, the absolute worst possible song would inevitably come on and make you feel ten thousand times worse. I didn’t need to bring Simon down any more than he already was—if that was even possible. When we left my apartment, I had Simon punch his mother’s address into the GPS so I didn’t even need to ask him for directions. I could just drive, and he could just stay in his own head—in the endless stream of memories that probably played in his mind like a home movie.

  We entered the town of Cape Brandon, so much like Grayson Falls. It had a little Main Street with businesses along it. I noted the supermarket. I was sure I would be making some trips there. I also saw a few places for takeout if we needed it. The police station passed on my side, and I gave an internal sigh of relief when Simon didn’t react.

  I knew from the GPS image that we were driving along the ocean. The little red destination flag showed up indicating his mother’s house, and I turned into a driveway when prompted. Wow. Growing up on the ocean must have been amazing. I couldn’t wait to see this place in the daylight.

  There were other cars in the driveway, but there was an open spot in front of the garage. I kind of had a feeling it was being held for Simon and pulled the Jeep into it. I studied the house as I put the car in park. It looked exactly like you would think a house in Maine would. The storybook outside gave no indication of the unhappiness inside.

  “Once I go in the door, it’s going to be real,” Simon whispered. “That car over there is Lindsey’s parents. She was married to my brother. The boys have all their grandparents in there. What do I do?” He looked over at me and seemed to shrink right in front of my eyes. He was almost like a child with no direction. But he didn’t have that luxury. If he was as close to those boys as I understood him to be, they were going look to him for guidance. He was their father figure now. “What do I say to the boys?”

  “Whatever is in your heart,” I said, reaching out and stroking a finger from his temple to his chin. “Don’t lie to them. They need to know that whatever they feel is okay. They’re going to be scared, and you need to make sure they know how much you love them.”

  He nodded before getting out of the car. I scrambled to follow him. This was my moment of truth. I didn’t know his mother. I didn’t know how she would react to a stranger intruding upon her family’s grief. Would she be pissed I was here? Would she blame Simon? Would she force me to leave or find a hotel?

  Simon took my hand and opened the side door by the garage. We stepped into a little mudroom with a bench seat on the side and shoes haphazardly scattered. I followed Simon’s lead when he toed off his shoes, but I made sure mine were out of the lane of travel. I would come back and straighten that up in a little bit. We stepped into a cozy living room, and there were three adults—two older women and a balding man—and three very sad little boys. Nobody was speaking. One boy was starting at the floor. One boy was sniffling and looking at the ceiling. The other was curled up with one of the women on a large chair. Everyone looked up when we appeared.

  Simon dropped my hand and stepped to the middle of the living room before dropping to his knees. He opened his arms and all the boys scrambled to him. Crying, the four of them dropped into a pile of grief on the floor. The two older women whimpered, and one clutched her chest, but nobody said a word. There weren’t any.

  I ESCAPED TO THE KITCHEN. I didn’t want to get in the way in the living room. Simon leaned up against the couch and sat on the floor with the boys tucked under his arms and in his lap. They just sat there. Nobody had spoken yet, and I didn’t think my introduction was high on the priority list. When I entered the kitchen, there were finally things I could do. Dishes needed to be done and dinner remnants needed to be stored. I could make myself useful there.

  I began to open cabinets until I stumbled on coffee filters and found the ground coffee in the freezer. It took me a few minutes to figure out the coffeemaker, but soon the calming aroma of fresh brewed coffee was permeating the air. A tea kettle sat on the stovetop, so I filled that up with water and set it to heat. On my hunt for tea bags, I also found hot chocolate mix. I couldn’t find a serving tray, but I did find a large wooden cutting board, so I set out the mugs on that.

  One of the older women entered and gave me a sad, but welcoming smile. “You must be Maggie.”

  I froze. It was pretty bold of me to go into Simon’s mother’s kitchen and take over, but I wanted to be useful, and I wanted to give Simon time with his family. I didn’t want to be an
additional burden on Simon.

  I wiped my hand on my pants and stuck it out to shake. I was mortified to be offering a hand stained with engine grease, but there was nothing I could do about it. The woman looked down at my hand amused, took my hand briefly, then pulled me into a hug.

  “I’m Simon’s mother,” she said, as she pulled back and I stood there stunned and tensed up. “You can call me Christine.”

  Pressing a hand to my chest, I took a step backward. “I’m really sorry that I imposed on you and then made myself at home in your kitchen. I just want to help Simon, and you and the boys, and whoever those other people are out there.”

  Christine waved a hand in the air. “This is perfect. It was so good of you to come so he didn’t have to drive alone. He told us all about you when he was home.”

  Simon talked about me? Holy shit, what did he say?

  “He told us how he got the injury on his head,” she explained.

  My face flamed when I realized she knew her son saw me topless. Holy Christmas, she probably thought I was some kind of hussy running around the office half naked. I turned and dove on the whistling kettle, moving it to a cold burner. I tore open three hot chocolate packets and poured them into three mugs for the boys, followed by the water. Christine moved to a cabinet and returned with a bag of mini marshmallows.

  “They’ll never get to sleep with the extra sugar, but I don’t think they were going to sleep tonight anyway,” Christine said, adding a generous handful of the sugary confections to the mugs. I could tell just by that action that she was a good grandma. Hop them up on sugar and then send them ... home. It hadn’t occurred to me that Simon would stay at his brother’s house with the boys. Maybe Lindsey’s parents were going to do that.

  “I drink coffee, as does Charlie out there. He’s my daughter-in-law’s father, and Evelyn is his wife. She’s the tea drinker.”

  “How about some chamomile then?” I suggested, drooping a bag into a mug.

  “Excellent idea,” Christine said. “You really are a dear for thinking of this and taking care of it. My Simon chose well.”

  I nearly tripped over my feet. I attempted to run my hand through my hair, but of course forgot I had it up and succeeded only in tangling my glasses up in my hair nest before smacking them off my face and quickly putting them back on.

  I. Was. Such. An. Idiot. Great first impression!

  Christine smiled again at me before she retrieved a small ceramic pitcher and put some milk in it, along with a sugar bowl and spoon. She was pretending she didn’t notice what a disaster I was, and I was eternally grateful.

  I picked up the tray and slowly followed her back to the living room. The very last thing my introduction needed was for me to trip and send eight mugs of hot liquid into the air. Simon would probably make me sleep in the car after that debacle.

  I shuffled over to Charlie and Evelyn first, since they were seated on actual furniture and near side tables. Christine took her coffee mug from me and returned to the big chair. Then I turned to Simon and the boys.

  Oh, my heart.

  The four of them looked up at me with the same anguish-stricken gaze. I slowly knelt on the floor so I would be on the same level as them. The boys’ expressions were a mixture of curiosity and wariness as I picked up to the first mug and reached out to the boy on Simon’s left side.

  “Would you like some hot chocolate?” I whispered. He looked up at Simon, and his uncle smiled encouragingly back.

  “Gavin,” Simon said. “This is my girlfriend Maggie.”

  Girlfriend! It was the first time we put a label on this relationship, and I realized I liked it. I had never been anyone’s girlfriend.

  The boys looked shocked and looked at me with a different expression. The curiosity was now replaced with suspicion from the twins, but the youngest still just looked sad.

  “She’s super smart,” Simon continued. “She builds race cars.”

  This got all three boys’ attention. I nodded to the boys. “It’s true, I do. Look.” I held out my hand. “I work on cars so much I can’t get the grease stains off my fingers.”

  “Are they good race cars?” Gavin asked me.

  “Oh, yeah. Really fast,” I said. “I built a really cool red one for Colton Donavan. He races IndyCar. I think your uncle has pictures.”

  The boys looked at each other. I was sure they were silently debating whether I was worth getting to know or not.

  “I like hot chocolate,” The other twin said and reached out for a mug.

  “Careful,” I warned. “It’s still hot. Your grandmother put extra marshmallows in it for you.”

  “This is Travis,” Simon introduced.

  “So, that means you must be Marcus.” I turned to the youngest boy. He looked at me before burying his face in Simon’s chest. “That’s okay if you don’t want it yet. It’s still hot. I’ll put it up here for you.” I set the third mug on a coaster on the table next to the couch, then I climbed onto the couch and sat behind Simon with my coffee.

  The room was quiet for a few minutes before Charlie spoke up. “I follow racing. I know who Colton Donavan is.”

  After taking a sip of my coffee, I looked up at him. “Simon will have to show you the video we got of him testing the car. The company we work for designs, builds, and sells stock cars.”

  “Colton races Indy.” Charlie frowned, and I shrugged.

  “I think his company is toying with buying or forming a stock car team. But who knows? Maybe he just wants it for fun.”

  A mixed breed dog wandered down from upstairs and ambled over to the boys. Marcus left Simon’s lap and led the dog over to the corner in front of me. The dog dutifully laid down in front of the couch. Marcus took his mug from the table then lowered himself to the floor and curled up with the dog, who laid her head on her paws. Before too long, despite the extra sugar, all three boys were asleep.

  Simon

  I

  wasn’t surprised when I walked into the kitchen after a restless night to find Maggie up and making breakfast. She looked at home in my mother’s kitchen ... and delicious. My plan for last night was to let her hold me all night and absorb all her comfort, but we ended up in the bed with the twins and their dog, Margo. Gavin and Travis each curled into one side of my body, leaving Maggie clinging to the edge of the mattress. Marcus, I discovered, had crawled into bed with my mother.

  This was the first full day of my life without my brother. It hadn’t really sunk in yet. Though I was constantly reminded by the devastated looks of the boys and my mother, I knew it wouldn’t be real for me until the wake when I saw him lying in a casket. The boys were very young when Lindsey died. Marcus had no memories of his mother, and the twins only had vague pictures.

  Now they were orphans, and my life was about to change dramatically.

  Devon and I had this talk already. I was well-aware that I was the boys’ legal guardian, and Lindsey’s parents were the trustees of the estate. In case this very thing happened, Devon wanted to ensure all the boys’ family was involved. Over the years, he had taken great pains to make sure Charlie and Evelyn were involved in the boys’ lives. Mom and I might have been more hands on day-to-day, but Charlie and Evelyn brought the boys with them on vacations and weekend visits. They lived further north and were actually closer in distance to me now in New Hampshire than they were to the boys here.

  Of course, I wasn’t sure now that I was going to be living in New Hampshire anymore. My nephews’ lives were in Cape Brandon, and I couldn’t very well expect my mother to raise them on her own.

  Which most likely meant I would lose Maggie.

  As if I wasn’t in enough pain from the loss of my brother—my best friend—I was about to give up the only girl I ever loved.

  But not yet. I would wait until the last possible second for that. I needed her now.

  She was standing at the stove frying up bacon, dressed in baggy gray lounge pants and a long-sleeved V-neck t-shirt. My mother’s crock pot
was on the counter showing an hour left to whatever she had in there. Plates and silverware were stacked and ready to be distributed. Whatever was cooking smelled divine. I padded over on bare feet and peeked through the glass top.

  “Eggs?” I asked. My voice was hoarse. Not from crying. I hadn’t cried yet. But from exhaustion. I was emotionally wrecked, and I had to think clearly, which meant I would be inhaling copious amounts of coffee today.

  “Egg bake,” she said.

  I furrowed my brow. “Do I want to know what egg bake is?”

  “It’s actually called a breakfast casserole, but my brother and I always called it egg bake.” Maggie poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “It’s eggs, onions, peppers, cheddar, hash browns, and crumbled sausage. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that your mom had everything for it. It’s fast, easy, and will feed a bunch of people and have enough left over for breakfast for a few days. My brother always made a burrito out of it.”

  My mouth hung open. I couldn’t believe she just whipped that up—or even thought to do it. I figured we’d be dining on Captain Crunch this morning, but she actually made something happen. She continued speaking, and I latched onto her voice. From the moment I got my mother’s phone call yesterday, everything Maggie said and did made perfect sense. I decided to just follow her lead and hope I wasn’t putting too much pressure on her.

  “I know you and your mom have some pretty hefty decisions to make today,” she said. “I thought I’d take your Jeep to the store and buy some supplies. While you’re on your calls and handling arrangements, I’m going to do some meal prep. My mom sent me a bunch of her recipes, so I can get everything together and ready. When it comes time, it just needs to be cooked. My mother was fond of whole crock pot dishes in freezer bags. Our RV always smelled amazing. She’d just pluck something out of the freezer in the morning, dump it in the crock pot, turn it on, and forget about it. It was great on days we had to drive. By the time we got to our destination, dinner was ready.”