“What do you know about bloody shoes anyway, Dad?” Colby laughed.
“I might be getting older, but I still know what’s going on around me even if I don’t like it.” He walked over, leaned in, and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to head out. There are a few things I need to do before the run. Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere else?”
“Yeah. Pretty sure. So, I guess I’ll see you there.”
*****
Colby pulled up into the full parking lot. Just about everyone who’d ever been connected to the organization seemed to be there. Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who had come back into town for the event tomorrow. That many people at the practice run was an indication of just how serious things were.
Colby’s heart warmed as she got out of her burnt orange classic 1970 Chevelle SS with an upgraded 427 Corvette engine. As she glanced around the lot, she spotted many familiar vehicles. If nothing else, folks around her hometown loved their muscle cars. They kept and restored them for years, eventually passing them down to the younger generations of their families.
Colby wasn’t an official part of the Daughtry Racing team, but she showed up wearing the uniform. It was a pair of white coveralls with Daughtry Racing stitched above the breast pocket, a matching baseball cap with her afro-puff ponytail hanging out of the back, and mirrored sunglasses. Today, she would be working in either the Pit or the booth.
“Yo . . . is that Ms. James?” Alberto Gonzales, her childhood bestie, was the first to spot her.
She beamed and removed her glasses as she walked over. “Gonzo! You better know it.”
He pulled her into his arms for a bear hug. He wasn’t a tall guy, but he was beefy. “I heard you were going to be here today. Sorry, I haven’t been able to come by the house since you got home.”
“I understand. I’ve only been here a couple of days. Dad said you guys have been burning the midnight oil, working on the car. I would have come by the garage sooner, but he has been so weird about it. He’s literally been doing everything in his power to keep me away.” She shrugged. “You know me, nothing could keep me home today.”
“Is that lil’ Colby?”
Colby turned to see another familiar face. “Yep. It’s me, Mr. Johnston.”
“Couldn’t stay away too long from this damn place, could ya?” Ben Johnston was like a second father, and one of the head mechanics. He pulled her in for a hug too. “How long has it been?”
“C’mon, I was just home for Christmas,” she said.
“True, but it seems like you’ve been up in Washington forever.”
“It’s not like I don’t come home a couple of times a year.”
“That’s never enough for us parents. I hear you’ve been cutting up on the track up there.”
Colby glanced down at her feet. “Word really travels. It’s nothing serious. It helps me relax and stay sane in a land full of sharks.”
“I bet. It is Washington, DC, after all. Anyway, how long are you here for this time?”
Colby rocked on the heels of her feet. “Not sure yet.”
Ben had a knowing smile. “Y’all kids might leave for a bit, but eventually, you come home. Once you catch the bug, it’s like a drug. It keeps you coming back.” He stared hard into her eyes. “In your case, racing is in your blood.”
Colby nodded in agreement. “I just needed some time to find my own way.” She had been running away from her past but was tired of running. As they were talking, the rest of the gang gathered around to welcome her home.
“Understandable. At any rate, it’s good to see you, kid.” Ben tipped the lip of her ball cap.
“Good to see you too, Mr. Johnston.”
Colby spent the next five minutes being wrapped up in the warm embraces of her friends. Although she was the only woman on the team, even if unofficially, the guys treated her like she was one of them.
“How long are you here for?” Another deep voice joined the chorus of the others.
“Zander? Zander White!” Colby yelled.
“In the flesh.” His crooked smile was big and bright as they hugged.
“My goodness. You are a ghost from the past. I should be asking you that. I never see you when I’m home.”
“I’m just here for the fireworks. I’ll be working the Pit today, and whatever else they need tomorrow, then I’ll be heading back to Boston.”
Playfully, Colby punched him in the arm. “I can’t believe you left Daughtry to work for another team.”
“Didn’t I hear that you’ve been out driving with outfits not named Daughtry?”
“For fun. Nothing else.”
“Well, my heart will always be here, but like you, I needed to find my own way. You still working for that fancy-schmancy lobbyist firm in Washington?”
Colby shook her head. “No. I um . . . took a leave. My dad needs me here.”
“Things have been crazy. I know you heard that the potential buyers are coming tomorrow, right?”
She glanced down at her coveralls. “You think I’m dressed like this because it’s the latest fashion?”
Zander laughed.
“Is everything ready?” Colby asked.
“Car is as good as it can be.” Zander shrugged. “Too bad the driver is a real asshole.”
The sun was blinding. She cupped her hand over her eyes as she looked up at Zander. “You met him?”
“Yeah. Last trip home, plus I’ve seen him on the circuit. I’ve worked with some trash bag drivers, but McKay has got to be hands down one of the worst.” Most of the guys standing around nodded in agreement.
“Aren’t most good ones assholes, though?” Colby laughed. “According to reports, Asher McKay is the next big thing. He’s their fair-haired golden boy.”
Zander wrinkled up his face but begrudgingly admitted Asher had some skills. “He’s alright . . . as a driver.”
Colby followed Asher’s career once he joined the team, and Zander was downplaying the man’s skills. He was good. “He might be a douche, but
