After a few minutes of quiet, Lena finally asks, “So why am I here, Mack? What do you need help with?”
Just the sound of her saying my name, my first name—not my last name as everyone has become accustomed to calling me—takes me right back to a time I’ve tried to forget. A time where it was just us against the world, usually me covered in grease and her sitting on a stool, camera in hand as she snapped photo after photo of whatever sparked her interest.
Knowing I just need to get this out, I angle my body toward her, maintain eye contact, and tell her exactly why she’s here. “I need your help raising Oliver. At least for a little while.”
She seems stunned. So stunned, in fact, she doesn’t say anything for several seconds. Seconds that feel like long minutes, actually, but in reality, aren’t that long. “I can’t,Mack. I can’t stay here and raise your son. I have a life and a job in Kansas,” she replies, flabbergasted by my request.
I expected this, really. I mean, as much as I’d love for Lena to jump at the opportunity to practically move here and help me raise my son, I knew it wasn’t likely. So I have an offer prepared. “What about for a short term? Like two months?”
She just gapes at me, as if I’ve lost my mind. “You’re serious?” she asks, as she gets up from the couch and starts to pace the room. “What about Fish?”
“He’s getting ready to head home for a week. His grandpa passed away, so he’s off to Oklahoma to bury him.”
She walks back and forth, from the front door to the hallway and then back again. “What about…someone else?”
“There is no one else, Lean.” My voice drops as I glance down at my son. “No one I trust anyway. Not with something this big.” When I glance back up, she’s standing directly in front of me, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. “You know this business. No one understands this commitment like you do. I need someone I trust to help me with Oliver. At least for a little while.”
“Two months?” Her question is barely above a whisper.
“That’s negotiable, but I’d love your help as long as I can get it. We’re off this weekend from racing, but I have to go to Fresno on Friday for Renee’s memorial service. There are four more races in the upcoming weeks, and I’m not sure how it’s going to work with having Oliver at the racetrack with me. There’s so much to figure out, and I just don’t know what to do.”
Just then, Oliver spits out the bottle and curls up in my arm. He fits so snuggly there, as if my arms were always meant to hold him. Recalling what Fish said about burping, even when he falls asleep, I move him back to my shoulder and tap his back.
Lena returns to the couch, this time sitting a lot closer to me than before. She watches as I burp Oliver, her brain spinning a million miles a second. It amazes me how easy it is to read her, the way I was able to years ago. “I can’t stay here for two months, Mack.”
“How about six weeks? That gets me through the next four races. And I’ll pay you, Lena. I don’t want to take advantage of you in any way. I just…” I sigh deeply and rub my tired eyes. “I just need you right now. I need a friend. Someone I trust.”
Now it’s her turn to sigh, and I know I have her. She closes her eyes for a few moments, so I let her be and continue to try to burp Oliver. When the baby finally burps and lies limp against my body, I start to get up from the chair. As much as I’d like to hold him—because for some crazy reason, the need to hold him close is so fucking strong—I follow Fish’s recommendation to put him in the bassinet. It’s the one thing, furniture wise, he ran out and bought for me last night. We’ll need to get a lot of other stuff, but I just haven’t been able to venture out just yet.
Just as I approach the stairs, my right foot poised on the bottom step, I hear her voice. “I’ll do it. For six weeks.”
I almost sag with relief as her words register. “Thank you, Lena,” I say as I turn to face her. “I know this isn’t easy on you. It’s not easy on me either, but I just, well, I didn’t know who else to call.”
She nods.
Turning back to the staircase, I’m about take a step when something else hits me. “Am I keeping you away from anyone back home?” My heart thunders in my chest as I await her answer.
“No.” That’s all she says, and relief fills my entire body.
I make my way up the stairs and toward my room where the bassinet is set up. Carefully, I lower Oliver on to the thin mattress, grateful that he stays asleep for the time being. I’m so tired, I feel it deep in my bones. I never expected parenthood to be quite like this. I mean, I knew babies took a lot of time and energy, but I wasn’t prepared for the pure exhaustion that comes with it.
And this is only the second day.
I drop onto my bed, my legs rejoicing in relief as I throw them up on the mattress. Maybe if I rest for a few minutes, I’ll be able to go down and properly deal with Lena and our new arrangement. I’m sure it’s the tiredness that has me not firing
