Once Around the Track

“I think so. And I see Badger as your teaser stud. You’re hot for him, all right, but everyone except you can see that it just wouldn’t work.”

Taran’s eyes welled with tears again. “Okay, but does the mare ever get to mate with the teaser stud? Ever? Just once?”

“Nope,” said Rosalind cheerfully. “He’s strictly there to do the prep work. But he’s probably not as good as he looks, anyhow.”

“Why are you telling me this? Are people laughing at me because of how I feel about him?”

“No,” said Rosalind. “I don’t see any of that, Taran. Okay, maybe some of us feel sorry for you, because we can all see how hopeless it is, but you’re so sincere, and it’s obvious that you care about him so much that only a heartless person would mock you for it. Badger is walking on eggshells trying not to hurt you. He’s a little oblivious sometimes, but he’s not heartless. I told you about teaser studs because we don’t want you to lose the real thing while you’re pursuing the illusion.”

Taran wiped her eyes. “Have you ever noticed that Badger is always saying things to people like ‘Don’t like me too much,’ or ‘Don’t put me on a pedestal.’ It’s strange, isn’t it? Everybody else in the world is worried that nobody will ever love them enough, and here’s Badger turning down offers of affection right and left. ‘Sorry. I have enough love already, thanks anyway.’ I cannot even imagine what that would feel like. To have too much love.”

“Don’t look at me,” said Rosalind. “I couldn’t win a popularity contest even if nobody else entered. Fortunately, I don’t like people enough to care. But in Badger’s case, maybe he does have a point. Maybe you really shouldn’t like him too much.”

“I don’t have a chance with him, anyhow,” said Taran. “I’d be competing with models and movie stars.”

Only until they got a good long look at Marengo, Georgia, thought Rosalind. She said, “I’ll bet there’s somebody you have more in common with.”

Taran was silent for a few moments. At last she said, “There’s Tony Lafon from the shop. I’ve been going to the track to watch him race for a couple of months, and sometimes we go out to dinner or to the movies. Not dating really.”

Rosalind thought the smart remark, but managed not to utter it aloud. Instead, she said, “Tony is a great guy. He’s about your age too. When I first came to North Carolina, I worked at one of the local speedways to learn about racing, and I got to know Tony there. He’s a nice guy. Smart, too. He’s got a real future, I think. At least a romance with him wouldn’t feel like convoy duty. Being the significant other of a Cup driver is probably a species of martyrdom, if you ask me.”

“Tony is my friend,” said Taran.

“Exactly my point,” said Rosalind. “Nobody ever sleeps with the Dark Angel, Taran. Nobody. He’s either your friend or he’s an air-brushed poster on the wall. There’s no in-between.”

“But Badger…I love him so much,” whispered Taran.

“I’ll bet you like him better when he’s not around,” said Rosalind. “Tell me something. What songs make you think of him?”

Like most people who spend a lot of time in their heads, Taran knew her own soundtrack pretty well. “‘My Sweet Lord’ by George Harrison,” she said. “And-well, it’s a pretty mixed bag. ‘I Don’t Know How to Love Him’ from Jesus Christ Superstar. Ummm…Some old ones my grandma used to sing to me…‘Abide with Me’…‘In the Garden’…‘Precious Lord, Take My Hand’…Let’s see, what else?”

“Never mind,” said Rosalind grimly. “Those will do. Taran, think about it. Those songs are all hymns.”

“What?”

“Hymns. They’re not sexy love songs; they are expressions of religious devotion. Think about that.” She laughed. “Oh, boy, the ultimate teaser stud. Badger Jenkins is not a guy to you. He’s the Impossible Dream.”

“That’s another one of my songs,” said Taran.

“Of course it is. If anyone ever loved purely and chastely from afar, it is definitely you.”

“How did you know?”

Rosalind sighed. “Oh, it takes one to know one, Taran. I’m not very good with people, either. I’m not beautiful, which makes me shy, and I have an engineer’s brain, which makes me stand back and examine everything critically, even my own emotions.”

“No happy ending, huh?” said Taran, wiping her eyes.

“No, this is the happy ending,” said Rosalind. “You walk away and the dream never dies. If you ever got him, even for just one night, that would be the tragedy, because you might get Badger, but you’d lose the Dark Angel forever-and that’s who you really wanted, kiddo. The Dream. The Dark Angel.”

CHAPTER XXII

What the Hell Happened?

Ed! We won the race at Darlington! That means we made the All-Stars!

Oh, good, Sark. I always liked baseball better, anyway.

Smart ass. The All-Star is next weekend’s nonpoints race at Lowe’s Motor Speedway. Home turf. The only people eligible to compete in this race are (I just had to look this up to write my press release) drivers who won races either in the current year or last year, or new drivers for car owners who won. Also eligible are drivers who are past Cup champions and/or are past winners of the All-Star race. Or whoever wins the All-Star Open. Actually, it’s a little more complicated than that.

Surely you don’t think I’m going to Google the NASCAR All-Star rules? You’ve already told me more than I wanted to know. But I get the gist of it, Racer Girl. Your team just became eligible for a winners-only competition, and you are unaccountably excited at the prospect. I suppose this is good for the greater glory of Badger, though.

You know, Ed, I’ve been thinking about that. When I first got into NASCAR, I thought that racing was all about one guy-the driver. But it isn’t. To use your baseball analogy, on our team Badger is like the pitcher. He may be the highest paid person on the team and the one who gets the most attention, but he wouldn’t get anywhere in competition by himself. Unless everybody does a good job at their own positions, he’s going to lose.

Of course, he’s going to lose! Oh, wait, he did win last week, didn’t he? I actually found myself boasting of my tenuous connection to Team Badger to a sports writer from the Charlotte Observer. Get me a hat or something, will you?

Sure, if you buy me dinner. You don’t want it signed by Badger, do you? Everybody has been complaining lately that he never does the autographing of items people send to the team. We’re thinking of getting a cattle prod. Plus some of the Vagenya Pharmaceuticals people showed up at the race last week, and Badger was supposed to go do a meet and greet with them, but he never showed up. I got some of the blame for that one, because I was supposed to get him there, but I couldn’t find him. They ought to hire him a nanny!

I thought he had one. That Albigre woman. By the way, I have some information about her that I’ll bet you will find interesting.

You did? Is she an ax murderess?

No, but I believe she is dangerous nonetheless, and for dinner and a Vagenya hat signed by the elusive Badger, I shall reveal all.

The All-Star Race is held in May at Lowe’s Motor Speedway, just off I-85, about twelve miles north of Charlotte, within easy commuting distance of nearly every racing operation in the sport. This race pitted the best against the best, competing for money, rather than for points toward the Cup championship. The mile-and-a-half tri-oval track had recently been resurfaced, but it had been a fast track even before that. With only five degrees of banking in the straightaways, drivers found it easy to maintain high speeds, and easy to pass other cars. Lowe’s was a popular track: a fun place to race and an easy commute from home base.

Team Vagenya had no real hopes of winning a second race in a row, especially not at a fast, flattish track that