Hart's Victory (17 page)

H
ART PLACED SEVENTH
, still a strong finish and one that moved him up in the points. The next weekend at Dover he placed sixth. Both times he fell short of the top five finish, so even though he’d visited, he hadn’t tried to claim any “reward.”

Although, after seeing him two Wednesdays in a row, Kellie was loosening the strings around her heart and letting him in, little by little. He hadn’t tried to kiss her again and she’d found herself missing his touch.

She also found it odd that she hadn’t minded as much as she thought she would when Eileen Swikle had interviewed Hart and asked if he were planning on having Kellie at the track again.

Elated with a top ten finish, Hart had smiled at the woman and said, “Definitely, she’ll be back.”

“So her presence at the challenge wasn’t a one-time deal?” Eileen had asked. At that, Hart has simply smiled wider, his eyes hidden by sunglasses and walked away.

At the time, Kellie had groaned, knowing that everyone would be speculating on what was going on. But now that she and Charlie were in the hired car taking them to Pocono, she was more interested in seeing Hart.

It was early Friday evening, close to five, and the race was Sunday. Hart was already at the track. He’d wanted Charlie and Kellie to fly to Charlotte on Thursday so that they could travel together, but Charlie’d had a doctor’s visit. After his treatment, the clinic had let him loose, telling him to have a good time.

“Hi, Kellie! Charlie!” Russ greeted her the minute she arrived, pulling up in a golf cart as the car dropped her off. “Hart’s out on the track practicing but he should be back soon. It’s great to see you both again.”

“Thanks,” Kellie said as Russ put their luggage in the cart.

“Are we by the McDougals again?” Charlie asked. “I’ve IM’d Stu a bunch and we’ve got a lot planned for this weekend. He said he’s going to be here.”

“You guys are all in a row like last time,” Russ said as they started rolling toward the motor home lot. “Also, Charlie, you have your own golf cart at your disposal. It’s outside the motor home. I’ll go over the rules for it when we get there. Hart’s orders that you are not to tire yourself out. Next weekend’s Michigan, and that’s one of Hart’s favorite tracks. He’d love to have you there.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, his excitement bubbling as they drove into the lot.

Stuart McDougal must have been watching out the motor home window, for he raced outside the moment Russ parked. “Hey, Charlie! Taylor and I have been waiting for you!”

“I’ll carry the suitcases in,” Russ told Kellie as they exited the car.

“Thanks.”

“Hey Stu, I brought some new anime,” Charlie said.

“Excellent,” Stuart said. “Mrs. Thompson, I want Charlie to come visit, maybe in the fall when the races are in Charlotte again.” He glanced at Russ. “Can we arrange that?”

“That might work,” Kellie said. She then stepped into the motor home to avoid more questions. Who knew what life would hold in mid-October? It was only early June. With Charlie’s condition, she just couldn’t plan that far ahead. Within moments, she saw both golf carts speed off.

Hart arrived about an hour later, having showered and changed out of his uniform. “Hey,” he said as he entered. “I’m all yours. The evening is ours.” He walked right up to her, invading her space. “I ran third fastest in practice today.”

“And should I be impressed by that?” Kellie teased. His proximity had already melted her equilibrium. She hadn’t seen him in several days, and now that he was in front of her, she realized she’d missed him. She struggled for some composure as she realized the profound implications.

“You should never be impressed with me,” Hart said. He tilted up her chin and stared down into her eyes. “But you should be afraid of one thing. I’m going to be in the top five. I’m planning on collecting.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware I’d agreed to reward you for a top five. You were the one who put those words in my mouth.”

He arched an eyebrow, trying to assess whether she was serious or just flirting. “You’re already rewarding me. You’re here, aren’t you?” he countered.

“Yes but…” she faltered under his intense stare.

“No buts,” Hart said, lowering his mouth to hers. “They’re against the rules.” He kissed her gently, taking his time to make the moment tender. Finally he withdrew his lips from hers. “Now that’s the right way to say hello.”

They heard a knock on the door, and a voice call, “Hey, Hart, you in here?”

“Dusty, that you?” Hart called back.

“Yeah. We’re going to start racing soon. You joining in?”

“Not tonight. Kellie and Charlie are here,” Hart replied, and they heard Dusty leave. “That was Dusty Burke. A bunch of us race remote-controlled cars on nights we’re free.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” she said.

“I’d rather be here with you,” Hart replied. He tapped the tip of her nose and grinned. “Besides, I won last week and don’t feel like defending my title. They’re all out to get me. Did you and Charlie eat? Don’t know if you noticed the barbecue pit outside, but I’ve got steaks marinating in your fridge.”

“You’re cooking?”

He nodded. “I’m quite handy with a grill. And any fool like me can open a can of baked beans and microwave those special shrink-wrapped baked potatoes. My driver even stocked your fridge with chocolate cake from the best bakery in town.”

Kellie sighed, her tone light. “And here I actually had such high hopes of you truly being domestic. Just opening some cans doesn’t count.”

“It proves I can delegate.”

“Creative excuse.”

“Yep. And I do wield a decent spatula.” He leaned in and stole another long kiss before they finally broke apart and went to start dinner.

Kellie noted that this weekend seemed less stressful, or maybe it was because she’d relaxed around Hart and also knew what the schedule was like. The day of the race she was again invited to watch the race with Alyssa McDougal. Charlie was again atop the pit box.

“So how are you and Hart getting along?” Alyssa asked Kellie during a caution late in the race. The two were back in the small kitchen area, restocking the veggie tray. “I’m not wanting to pry, but this is the first time we’ve had a chance to chat since Charlotte.”

“I’m just along for the ride,” Kellie tried.

“Not the way he looks at you,” Alyssa said. “I know Hart. There’s more than that brewing.”

“Caught me. I admit. I like him. But there are so many variables.”

“Like you aren’t sure if it’s real.”

Kellie popped a carrot in her mouth to keep from replying and Alyssa answered for her. “I can tell you Hart’s very serious. I’ve seen enough of the, um, women…”

“Bimbos, Cynthia called them yesterday when I saw her briefly. She told me she was very glad I wasn’t one and that she was delighted to see me again.”

“She would call them that.” Alyssa chuckled aloud. “She’s originally from the Midwest. Being a Southerner, I always try to be more delicate. Anyway, Hart’s different with you. He talks about you and Charlie. A few of the guys were giving him grief that you were too smart for him and would wise up and never see him again. He didn’t think it funny, and normally that type of razzing wouldn’t bother him at all. The guys had him really worried.”

“I just have so much going on,” Kellie said. “Charlie is going to start chemo again in a few weeks. I’ve told Hart that I can’t give him any guarantees. I’m not able to travel with him and I don’t think that it’s fair for him to be waiting on me for something I might never be able to do.”

Kellie glanced up at the monitor. Hart was still the race leader, having led the last twenty laps. The commentators had already mentioned that Hart’s lucky charms were present and twice had shown Charlie sitting atop the war wagon. Oh, she knew Charlie was in heaven. But he was now sort of a public figure. His life, including his disease, was out there. Yesterday people with garage passes had pointed at him, recognizing him. She’d been unnerved and her mother’s instinct to protect her child had kicked in full force. She wasn’t finding tonight easy, either.

A half hour later, Hart was still leading the race. He’d slipped behind for a few laps after he’d pitted, but come right back and regained his lead, passing Kyle Doolittle on the inside of Turn Two. Doolittle had now slipped back to fifth place, and Hart was three car lengths ahead with ten laps to go. Unless a caution came out, he was uncatchable.

“You better get ready for your first Victory Lane,” Alyssa said.

Kellie glanced at her outfit. She wore tan pants and a seafoam-green short-sleeve T-shirt, almost the same outfit she’d worn last time she’d been at the track. “What am I supposed to do? I’m not pretty enough. I’ve seen women dressed to the nines carrying their Chihuahuas in those little purses.”

“That’s not everyone. Not all of us are purposely glamorous. Besides, you don’t have to be on camera, but if you do, you look great. Hart will climb out of the car and immediately have microphones shoved in his face. He’s got to do those interviews before anything. All you do is smile a lot and follow his or Wally’s lead. After a bit, you can fade into the background and leave. He’s going to have tons of team photos to take, sponsors to greet and such. It takes forever.”

“If I can fade into the background, why be there at all?”

“Because he’ll know if you’re not,” Alyssa said, as if that explained everything.

“Move, girl,” one of the other wives called from her spot. “You’ve only got five laps. You can meet him in Victory Lane or in the pit.”

Kellie grabbed her hard card, putting the pass around her neck. She stepped out of the air-conditioned motor home and into the June heat. The noise of cars roaring around the race track surrounded her. She had just reached a checkpoint when Russ arrived. “I was coming to get you,” he said.

“Thanks. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you,” she said.

Russ smiled widely, and Kellie’s stomach churned. “Oh, don’t relax yet. It’s going to be chaos. Welcome to the fun house.”

“W
E SENT
R
USS
to get her.” Wally said over the radio.

Hart pushed the gas pedal down, accelerating the car out of Turn Two. One more and his victoryless streak would be over. He hit the straightaway, the race clearly his. His body pumped with adrenaline and psyched itself for the celebration to come. He eased up on the gas and braked, taking Turn Three and heading for the finish line. Everyone else was at least five seconds back�he could practically coast in, but Hart hit the gas for one final push. He could see the checkered flag waving and then he was across the line, taking home his first win since Daytona back in February. Hart Hampton, driver of the Number 413 Elementals Chevrolet, was back.

He lowered his net and stuck his fist out the window, staying out and taking his victory lap.

“She’s here,” Wally’s voice called in his ear. “Don’t you dare destroy the engine this time.”

Hart grinned to himself. He’d been listening to Wally and his spotter Matt all night. Matt was his eyes in the sky, and together he and Wally had led a team that had outdone themselves. “Boys,” Hart called, “we’re going to celebrate tonight.”

Hart brought his car back to the finish line and stopped his front wheels, causing smoke to rise from the back pair. He winced once as he knew the stench from the burning rubber was going to permeate his hair and skin. He was going to really stink and hoped Kellie wouldn’t care that much when he arrived at Victory Lane. He grinned, knowing that the moment he got out of the car he’d be hosed down with shaken bottles of microbrew. Yes, he was going to reek. She wasn’t going to be too excited to see him, but the thing he liked most about Kellie was that he knew she’d handle any curve thrown her way. He knew she’d be in Victory Lane because of him, not because she wanted to be on television herself. He’d dated one model who’d been in every single frame she could get her face into. He’d been so annoyed he’d sent her straight home.

Hart turned the car into pit road, making his way to where his team waited. Giddiness consumed him. Yeah, the word was cheesy, but it described his emotions perfectly.

There she was, standing on the edge of his pit box, right next to Russ, Charlie at her side.

Hart tapped the steering wheel impatiently as the car was moved to Victory Lane and final preparations for the celebration began. Finally the officials gave him the signal and he climbed out of the car, standing on the door ledge for a moment while he raised both arms skyward, fists raised triumphantly. Around him his team erupted into ear-deafening cheers, and the first liquid drops rained upward, and, as Hart jumped to the checkered concrete, the spray increased, drenched him, and dripped off the bill of his Elementals ball cap.

“Hart, fantastic win! Tell us about your final thoughts when you knew the race was yours.” The first question always came from the network providing live race coverage.

Hart craned his head, trying to see Kellie through the crowd. “The Elementals Chevy ran great all night. We were definitely the fastest race car out on the track. We knew we had something during happy hour when we ran second.”

“So do you think your unlucky streak has braked to halt?” the reporter asked.

Hart took a sip of cola before answering. He was parched. “We were never unlucky. All teams have setbacks at one point or another, and my team’s worked hard all year to bring us this second win. We’ll be celebrating in the shop tomorrow.”

“But do you think having your lucky charms here helped?”

“It certainly didn’t hurt. I’m always glad when Charlie’s here with me. I’m living my dream; it’s great to see him living his,” Hart said.

The radio interview came next, and Hart remained pinned next to the car as he answered a few questions. All around him mayhem ensued as people celebrated the win. Cynthia was there, hugging him. Wally came up and grabbed him. But no Kellie. She remained just out of reach.

Suddenly fed up, Hart strode across Victory Lane and headed to Kellie. Hart was aware of cameras following him but he didn’t care. The interviews could take forever, and he wasn’t waiting another minute. Charlie reached up and gave him a high five. “Congratulations.”

“Yes, congrats,” Kellie said.

“I’m here to collect.” Hart told her. Her eyes widened as she realized the implications. He wasn’t just top five. He’d won. He swooped down, planting one on her right there. The touch of his lips to hers was quick, but there was nothing brotherly or chaste in the kiss. The movement had been full of unspoken promise. “I’m going to be forever, but don’t you dare take off without me,” he said.

And with that, Hart allowed himself to be sucked back into the interviews.

Then he had to pose with his team for the winner photos, which lasted forever as each sponsor got a copy of the guys wearing the sponsor’s hat. In all the hat changes, Hart lost track of Kellie and soon Russ swept him along to the next commitment.

Adrenaline flowed and Hart enjoyed himself, but, for the first time, he discovered that something about winning races had changed. He wanted to celebrate with Kellie. He wanted her to be a part of this. She wasn’t just there to be an outlet later for his excitement and excess energy. He wanted her to be a part of his revelry.

Yet, tonight, after the race, she and Charlie would fly to Charlotte with him, and then later that night on to Myrtle Beach. He’d tried to convince her to stay, but she’d cited that Charlie might need to go to the clinic on Monday and that had been that.

“You seem pretty frustrated for a man who just won a race and moved himself up in the points standings,” Cynthia said at the end of the picture session. Russ and a NASCAR P.R. manager were moving everyone around, giving her a private moment with Hart as they traveled to the next location.

“I’m just realizing that if I’d lost I’d be spending time with Kellie and Charlie. They’re going back home tonight.”

Cynthia simply laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe you can lose next weekend,” she joked.

The absurdity of her suggestion caused Hart’s mood to lighten somewhat. “I’m pretty gone, aren’t I?”

“It’s a nice change,” Cynthia said, smiling. “Imagine, you having to work for Kellie as hard as you have to win a race.”

“You don’t think that’s why I’m so interested in her, do you? Because she’s a challenge?” Hart frowned as he considered that.

“No,” Cynthia replied. “She challenges you, but only in the sense that you’re changing for the better because of her. She’s not playing games and neither are you. Just take things slow.”

Slow was an understatement, Hart thought, as the sun had dipped below the horizon by the time he was finished with all his commitments. He finally made it to his hauler, one of the last ones in the near empty lot. Even the motor home lot had been vacated.

Russ waited outside the hauler, and the minute Hart saw him, he knew.

“They’re gone, aren’t they?”

Russ nodded, and, for first time since he’d been five, Hart swore.