Wish Upon a Star (8 page)

Her hug at the end of the parade almost knocked me down.
"This was just what Doctor Furman or Doctor Hill would have
ordered. I think I'm ready to go home though." She fanned her hand
in front of her face. "I'm a little winded."

"Given the fact you probably walked five times as far as me,
with all the back and forth and all over the place, I'm not surprised." I
laughed and kissed her stocking cap covered head.

Annie insisted on driving home. "Now that the roads have
cleared, I don't need you to chauffeur me all over the place. All that
snow and ice made me uncomfortable, but I think I'm good
now."

"I don't mind."

"I know you don't and I appreciate it. But there's no need for
you to have to set your schedule around my transportation needs,
now that spring's right around the corner."

I had a vision of Annie driving us around Santa Rosa in her
convertible BMW and took a look around the interior of my Buick.
Instead of an mp3 port, there was a CD player that skipped if you hit
a bump in the road. The driver's side floor mat had a hole in it. The
back seat had a couple of sports drink-caused perma-stains. "You
sure you don't mind being seen behind the wheel of this? It's not
exactly up to Cassandra standards."

She glanced at me with one of her heart melting smiles.
"You're sweet. I think I've got energy for one pint in honor of your
favorite holiday. I trust you'll join me, yes?"

We enjoyed our drinks with a late lunch in quiet anonymity
at Binkleys. Annie kept her hat on while we ate. When I asked her
why, she said it was partly because it kept her head warm and partly
to avoid any attention the lack of hair might bring.

As much as we tried, there was no escape from this cruel
reality.

The following Monday brought the first truly nice day of
spring. Sunny skies and a southerly breeze had pushed the mercury
in my patio thermometer almost to sixty. Annie interrupted my work
on CassandraLawrence.net by throwing a cycling jersey at me.

"Get out while you can. From what I understand, you might
not get another day this nice for a while."

"Got some Cassandra things I'm trying to take care of for
you. You sure?"

"Absolutely. Just promise me you'll go at least fifty. You
deserve it."

My eyes grew wide. Fifty miles. I'd gotten in a number of
rides that distance when we'd been in California, but nothing
anywhere near that since we'd arrived in Indy. I practically jumped
out of my seat and kissed Annie on the cheek.

"Sweet. What are you going to do?"

"Oh, I have a couple of errands to run." She picked up the car
keys and slipped her purse over her shoulder. "Have fun. I want to
hear all about it when you get back."

It took me a while to actually get out on the road. Given the
time of year, when I'd gone out for a ride, I'd taken my mountain bike
that I'd named the Truckster. The added stability from the
Truckster's wider tires made navigating around icy spots and snow
mounds easier. Today was a day for my custom road bike, the Fluid
Druid. Since I hadn't ridden it in close to a year, I spent almost an
hour tuning it up before hitting the road.

The tune-up proved to be worth its weight in titanium. The
ride was so smooth and light; it was like rolling on air. I let out a
joyous scream as I flashed across the Eagle Creek causeway, simply
joyful to be alive. The rolling hills around the perimeter of Eagle
Creek Park let me know how far out of shape I'd gotten, though.
While waiting for the light to change at 79th Street, I shook my head
in mock shame when I saw how low my average speed was. That was
okay. I was doing something I truly loved, which was all that
mattered. I cruised home with Cassandra's "Rock Awhile" running
through my head and a smile on my face.

I pushed the front door open and wheeled the bike in. Annie
was on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table. "How was
the ride?"

"A little slow, but other than that, it was perfect."

"Good, because I have a surprise for you." Annie popped off
the couch. "Go get cleaned up then I'll show it to you."

Practically the second I stepped out of the bedroom after my
shower, Annie took me by the hands and told me to close my eyes.
She led me from the bedroom to what I was pretty certain was the
garage.

"All right my love. Open your eyes."

My guess about the garage had been spot on. I'd been
anticipating a new bike or something like that. Never in my wildest
imagination would I have expected to be gazing upon not one, but
two gleaming BMW sports cars. The one on the right was a deep blue
convertible with a vanity license plate on the front that read
TRIATHLETE. The one on the left was a Kelly green hardtop. Its
vanity plate read MANIC MECHANIC.

I turned to Annie, speechless.

"Surprise! I decided I needed a car and thought you
deserved a new one, so..." She dangled a key fob in front of me. "The
green one's yours, in case you hadn't figured that out." She dropped
the fob into my hand. She was bouncing on her toes so rapidly, I was
afraid she'd bounce up and hit the ceiling.

I ran my fingers through my hair, took a step toward the
green BMW and shook my head. "You shouldn't—"

With a little huff, she stepped past me and opened the
driver's side door. "Stop it. Check out your new wheels." She glided
around the car and slipped into the passenger seat.

When she waved me into the car, I finally moved. As I eased
myself behind the wheel, the aroma from the leather seats filled my
nostrils. My hands glided over the steering wheel and down to the
stick shift. A chuckle escaped when I noticed the four CD's placed in
the console. They were all by my favorite artist, Cassandra
Lawrence.

As the shock from such an enormous surprise wore off, an
unpleasant question popped into my head. "This car's amazing
Annie. Thank you very much."

She grinned and kissed me on the cheek. "You've done so
much for me, it's my pleasure. I've been working on this for a couple
of weeks and keeping it a secret's been killing me."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything, but whether I choose to answer is
another matter, as you well know." She gave my shoulder a playful
push.

"Um, so what'd you do with Mom's car?"

"The dealer didn't want it. No big surprise there given its
age and mileage. But since I'm a preferred BMW customer, they took
it anyway."

"So it's gone then."

"Yep. I found the title in the little safe you keep in your
closet. Signed, sealed, delivered. This is yours, baby."

A ball of hot lead started to grow in my gut. I got out of the
car and went over to a stool I used when I was working on my
bikes.

Annie opened her door a crack. "Well, come on. Don't you
want to take it for a spin? It's yours, after all."

"Why'd you give away my mom's car?"

She stepped out, her brow knitted in confusion. "I didn't give
it away. It's just the value—"

"It doesn't matter what you think the value was. That wasn't
your call to make."

"Whoa, I just bought you a new car and you're angry with
me? I don't understand."

"Of course you wouldn't understand. You can't stand your
mom." The hateful words were out before I could reel them back
in.

Annie drew in a breath and crossed her arms. "And just
what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her icy tone dropped the
room temperature thirty degrees.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. All of a sudden,
nothing was making sense.

"Come on, out with it."

While I'd closed my eyes, Annie had moved a foot away and
was glaring at me. "I go to all this trouble to get you something really
nice and special, and this is how you thank me? By acting like I've
just run over one of your stupid bikes? Some show of gratitude."

The tension between us was rising like a helium-filled
balloon that had escaped from its owner. My hands trembled. "You
don't understand." The force of the words practically bounced off the
garage door.

With wide eyes, Annie leaned away from me. "Don't you
dare shout at me, mister. I don't take that from anybody, including
you."

I froze, the lead boiling in me turning to ice. My voice
cracked. "I can't believe this is happening." I grabbed my hair with
both hands and pulled. What was happening to me?

"What's happening?" She reached toward me, stopping
midway. "What don't I understand?"

"I just..." I turned away from her and sprinted into the
condo, unable to face the demon waging war with my soul.

I'd been pacing back and forth on the patio for probably an
hour or so when Annie slid the door open. "We need to talk about
this E.J."

"No we don't." I kept my focus on my shoes and away from
her.

"Yes, we do." There was steel in her voice that I hadn't heard
since she'd dealt with a slimy promotions agent in London. It was a
tone that didn't accept backtalk. I turned and looked at her. I didn't
see the in-command rock star the world adored.

I saw a young woman without a single hair on her head
battling an insidious disease just to stay alive. At the same time, she
was battling a stubborn jerk to keep our relationship alive. Her teeth
were chattering and she was shivering, but she wouldn't release me
from her gaze.

Just like that, the anger-filled adrenaline rush ran out and
was replaced with emptiness. "You're right." I followed Annie
indoors, hoping I had the strength to fess up and release this demon
once and for all.

I slumped into the middle cushion of the couch and put my
elbows on my knees. Annie placed her hand on my thigh.

"E.J., honey, I love you. But we need to talk about what's
hurting you. This isn't easy for me either. But if we're going to make
this work, make us work, we have to communicate. So talk to
me."

I glanced at my North Star and then went back to staring at
the tops of my shoes. "It's just that the car meant a lot to me. A lot of
memories go with it. And then you just went and..."

Annie took a deep breath, nodded and sat up straight. "All
right. I accept that in my haste to surprise you, it didn't occur to me
how attached you are, were, to that car. And for that, I
apologize."

"Thanks." When she remained silent, I went on. "And I know
you weren't trying to hurt me. You were trying to make me
happy."

"Thank you. May I ask why that car meant so much to
you?"

The question made me bristle. "You know that."

She put hands up in front of her. "I'm sorry, but I don't."

I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. When Annie
declined my offer to get her one, I popped bottle cap and took a long
swig. "That was Mom's car. And since she's been gone, taking care of
it's been one way to keep her memory alive."

"She meant a great deal to you."

"Of course she did. You've heard enough stories to know
that."

"And losing her the way you did. That was hard."

After taking another long pull, I nodded. "Yeah."

"Why?"

Anger was starting to bubble up in my gut again. I slammed
the bottle on the counter. "Do we really have to do this?"

Annie rose. "I know this hurts, honey. But please, yes we do.
I think deep down, even farther than you realize, you're hurting. You
have been for a long time. Longer than you can imagine. And we need
to get down there." She took a tentative step toward me. "Please
trust me on this. I understand."

I studied her. She was the one with cancer. She was the one
who was in constant discomfort. She was the one who had lost her
hair and was losing weight. And she was the one who was making
the effort to make me better.

She was the strong one.

"I guess the hardest thing was watching Mom slowly slip
away, day by bay, a little bit at a time. And there wasn't a damn thing
I could do about it. All I could do was watch. And that really, really
sucked big time."

Annie took my hand. "You were there for her. You gave up
your career to be there for her."

"Fat lot of good that did."

"But you made the effort. You sacrificed a lot. I'd wager not a
lot of people would have done that."

With a shrug, I took another drink. "I guess."

Annie settled onto one of the barstools and motioned me
onto the one next to her.

"But you did. And now I have another question for you. Why
did you stay home?"

The way Annie kept digging deeper into my past, unearthing
a little bit at a time and sifting through memories before scooping
another shovelful must have meant she saw something I didn't.

My index finger tapped out a steady rhythm while I
pondered Annie's question.

"I was just trying to be a good son. I mean, I sure as hell
hadn't planned on taking the next four years off after Dad died. I was
just going to get Mom back on her feet. But things kept going
south."

"So it was four years between losing your Father and losing
your Mother."

"Closer to three and a half. Took another six months to wrap
up her estate."

"Point taken. But your mom wasn't bed-ridden that entire
time. I mean, from what you've told me, while she wasn't on her
A-game, she was still pretty independent for a while, yes?"

In response to my nod, Annie gentle pressed on with a
tender tone. "So after you wrapped up your father's affairs, you
could have rejoined the bike team, at least for a year or so."

It was a statement, not a question. Nor was it an accusation.
She was merely laying out the reality of the situation.

"Yeah. In hindsight, I could have. It wasn't until she fell and
broke her hip that looking after her became my main focus. But at
the time, I just couldn't. I couldn't leave her."

"I understand you couldn't. It was an admirable thing to do.
At the time, why couldn't you?"