One For The Road

43: Relocation

The next morning, I headed back downstairs to find Griffin in the kitchen making breakfast. It was like a weight that I never even noticed had been lifted off my shoulders, and maybe I was right that everything felt horrible because I was tired.

He was already dressed for the day like he had his shit together and someplace to be, and while it was only Wednesday, he probably did. There were no days off for someone like him in the NASCAR world, especially since he was picky about nearly everything that went into the car.

I, on the other hand, learned to shut up and drive. I never did get that perennial winner privilege (or, at least, that's what Truscott always told me).

Penny was at Griffin's feet waiting for some scraps to fall, and that must have been a snapshot of what his life was like without me.

At least he seemed happy, even if he was cooking in the goddamn morning.

"Hey, Kate," Griffin said without looking up from the stove.

"I'm feeling better this morning, so you can drive the Corvette today," I said.

He chuckled. "I was a little afraid to ask. You were kinda scary last night."

"I don't know why you would think that. I didn't threaten to kill anyone or myself. I feel like that's a pretty good day."

"It was just the way you looked. Worn out, exhausted, pissed off."

"Thanks." I gave him a fake smile. "Glad to know you think I'm pretty."

"Don't start with that bullshit—" He paused when he turned and caught a glimpse of me. "What the fuck did you do to your hair?"

"I got upset that I was stuck in Canada and colored the ends grey obviously."

"Why?"

I already answered that, genius. "So you don't like it?"

"That's not what I said."

"You didn't not say it."

He let out a loud sigh. "You know, I really missed losing every argument I'm a part of."

If that was what he honestly thought, then I won a lot more often than I thought I did. But he knew damn well that we were usually on the same page for everything.

I smiled. With everyone else, it was like I could never win.

"So what are you doing today? Have any plans?" I asked.

"Well, I have to head down to the RTR headquarters to check up with Roger. I have a feeling he's a little worried going into Talladega, and he probably wants to have a chat with the whole team. I mean, if we lose, we're eliminated from The Chase, so it's understandable," he said.

"But you're going to win, so that's not an issue."

He laughed. "You should know better than anyone else that you can have the best car and do everything right throughout the whole race, and you can still lose."

I did, in fact, know that very well. But it also meant that you didn't necessarily have to have the best car to win.

"I'm pretty sure the Talladega gods just hate me," I said. "But they like you, so I honestly believe you're going to be fine. You could always offer some of whatever you're making as a tribute to them. It smells pretty good."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate these eggs more than I do. You can only change it up so many times before everything starts to get old."

"Then make something different. What about chocolate chip pancakes?"