Me: Just finished workout. How’s Oliver?
Her reply takes a few minutes, long enough for me to get fresh clothes on before my phone dings with a response.
Lena: Two words. Diaper. Blowout. *insert gagging emoji*
I laugh out loud, drawing the attention of everyone in the locker room. Instantly, comments echo through the room about what I’m hiding, that I must be texting a girl since I’m smiling, and bets in general with who I’m suddenly sleeping with. You know, typical guy, locker room bullshit.
Ignoring them, I type out a reply.
Me: Sorry to hear, but honestly, glad it wasn’t me. *insert laughing emoji*
Lena: Laugh it up now. You’ll have your turn later.
My mind flashes to something dirty, and I’m not talking about my son’s diaper. I’m picturing Lena, maybe splayed out on my bed, ready for me to do all the dirty things I’ve been dreaming about for the last few years.
Me: I’m sure my turn is coming. Off to a team meeting. If you need me, text. I don’t usually keep my phone on, but I will. Coop knows what’s going on.
Lena: I’m sure we’ll be fine.
Two minutes later, when I’m completely ready to head to the conference room, my phone lights up again.
Lena: Deliveries are here. Lots of stuff. Be ready to assemble, Cruz.
I smirk at the device in my hand and fire off a reply.
Me: I’m always ready, Lean. I’ll bring supper home.
Lena: Have a good day.
Me: You too.
I slip my phone into my pocket and don’t even try to hide the smile on my face. It feels damn good to be communicating with her again. We’ve quickly fallen back into a familiar routine, one that has lain dormant for a few years, but is easy to slip back into now. Of course, having her in my house and helping care for my son does make it a bit easier, but it’s more than that. It’s not just us sharing a living space. It’s sharing a past.
And hopefully a future.
The conference room is bustling when I push through the door. Coop is at the head of the table, the chair to his right empty. That’s where the brass from the office will sit, often Colton himself. He’s very involved in his teams, in the company he built. Truth be told, it’s one of the main reasons I signed with him. Sure, he’s Colton fucking Donavan, a legend in open-wheel racing, but it’s more than that. It’s his passion for the industry, his business, and his family.
“Let’s get started. We have Mid-Ohio coming up, and I want to be ready,” Coop says, as we all take our seats and prepare to discuss the upcoming race. Sure, we have a weekend break before then, but we don’t waste time when it comes to preparing for a race. Especially not since my year hasn’t exactly been what I was hoping for.
What we all were hoping for.
There’s still time to salvage points standings. I’m not too far behind that with a little hard work and a few top-five finishes, I could be right back in the hunt for a championship. I came close last year, only my second year in the series, and I ended at number five. This year, my goal was champion. I have the team, the sponsors, and the drive to win, but I can’t seem to close. I still haven’t figured out what’s changed this year over last, but I will.
I need a good season. The analysts and industry leaders are starting to chirp about last year being a fluke. Fuck them. It wasn’t a fluke. But so far, I haven’t been able to back up my claims. The last thing I want is my sponsors to think I’m a one-hit wonder. Or, a three-hit wonder, in my case. I had a big win toward the end of my rookie season and followed it up by two wins last year. But this year? Nada.
Time to fix that.
Buckling down, I listen to Coop talk strategy. Of course, that may change when we actually get the car on the track and run some laps. Next week, I’ll be behind the wheel again, and I’m damn sure looking forward to it. I hate off weeks. I’d rather be driving, doing what I love. The guys throw out suggestions for car handling and improving fuel efficiency, and the ideas are flowing like wine as our food is delivered to the meeting room.
“Let’s take a break to eat some grub. After, we’ll head to the shop and check out the Ohio car,” he says, standing up and stretching his back and shaking out his legs.
My own legs protest when I stand up and head over to the food table. There are pans of lasagna, salad, and garlic breadsticks, and my mouth waters. I was able to inhale a quick protein bar on my way out the door this morning, but since Oliver arrived, my eating schedule is way off. Except for the beef and noodles last night, I haven’t eaten much in two days.
When our plates are full and we’re all shoveling it in at the table, I decide to share a bit of news with the crew. “So I have something to say,” I tell my team. Coop looks up and nods his head, knowing what’s coming.
I clear my throat and set my fork down. “I had a bit of a shock two days ago, and the reason is why I wasn’t here yesterday.”
Jones grins. “Twenty says it’s about a woman.”
The guys chuckle and I flash a smile. “I guess, in a roundabout way, it is.” Deep breath. “Apparently, I have a son.”
I’m met with silence in the room, so I go on. “His name is Oliver, and he’s three weeks old. The kicker is I’m now a full-time dad. His mom passed away.”
Forks drop around the table as many sets of wide eyes gape back at me. “Dude, you’re serious?” Jones asks, sitting back in his seat.
“As a heart attack.”
“That’s fucked up,” Chief contributes.
Pete, one of my tire changers, speaks next. “So you didn’t know about him?” he asks with a skeptical glance.
I’m already shaking my head as I reply. “No. I had no clue, honestly.” I decide to go ahead and give them the full story, trusting each of these guys with my life. “Do you remember Renee?”
A few snickers are heard around the table. Everyone is well aware of my relationship with Renee. It wasn’t public, but when you work as closely as I do with these guys, hanging out nonstop, especially at races, everyone’s got their nose in my business. “Of course we do,” one of them replies.
“Well, about ten months or so ago, we hung out. It was after a race, and I was, uh, looking to blow off a little steam.” No one says anything. No judgment is made, so I press on. “Anyway, she was fired not too long after that, remember? Well, I haven’t seen or spoken to her since. Apparently, she was pregnant, but didn’t say anything to me. She had a stroke a few days ago and passed away. Her mom has cancer, but said her daughter talked about me as the father. Social services showed up with my kid, and now I’m a dad full time.”
No one really says anything for several long minutes, and that’s okay. I know they’re just processing the information I dropped in their laps. “So now what?” Jones finally asks.
I lean back in my own chair. “I have a friend who’s helping me with him. She’s staying for about six weeks, and after that, I’ll use a nanny.” Just saying those words makes my heart kick up a few beats. “But the point of all this is, I’m determined to do my best for you all. I won’t let this interfere with my driving, guys. I’m committed to this team, to doing the very best.”
Chief blows out a breath. “Of course you will, man. We’ve never once questioned your loyalty or your ability. We know you’ll do what it takes.”