Samantha
Creek County, Oklahoma
One Week Later
Megan and I bundle up and take Bugs and Daffy out for a ride. The afternoon is crisp, but the sun warms us and the horses as we ride way out to the meandering creek that runs through the far end of our family’s land. On the way back, we stop near the new house construction and watch the workers hammer nails into a new section of drywall. The giant wooden skeleton stands there like a majestic symbol of awesomeness. It’ll take a few more months for it to be built.
“Are you sure you want us to move in?” Megan asks. “It's your house and wouldn't you like to have some privacy?”
“No, because it’s going to be your home too, and you'll have your own wing of the house to live in,” I say. “Besides, I need someone to watch the place while I'm around the world, doing my thing.”
“Just as long as you're sure.”
“I'm sure. Seriously. Don't worry about it.”
Megan takes in the building for a moment. “It's so huge.”
“Yeah. It looked smaller on the floor plans. Do you think it's too big?”
“For a single young woman...well, it's kinda…” Megan lets it drop.
“It's kinda what?”
Megan doesn't want to hurt my feelings. “Jumbo-sized.”
Okay, for some reason I wanted something huge. Something that looked big from far away. A place I could point to and say that I owned that. But then as I look at this gigantic building that is taking up space on our land, I realize that maybe it's because of Emilio. That huge mansion he had in Brazil. A symbol of his success. A beacon of achievement.
Jeez, I didn't even realize it before. Am I still wanting to be Emilio Ronaldo?
“My plan was to have everyone live here, including Mom, because it's big enough for all of us,” I say. “Could you please talk to her again?”
“She's not going to change her mind.”
“You're more persuasive than me. Mom kisses the ground you walk on.”
“Oh please,” Megan says.
“It's true. Who sweet-talked her into letting me go to Europe to race cars? I crashed and burned trying to sell that idea.”
“It's not about being persuasive enough. Mom loves the old house. She wants to stay in it forever. It's a lost cause, Samantha.”
Megan steers Daffy away and trots back towards the old house. I coax Bugs to follow her.
Megan and I guide the horses along the newly paved driveway that replaced the old gravel one that snaked through the trees and connected our property with the main state highway. A pink Porsche Boxster zooms up the drive. Pink is not a color available to your average Porsche customer. But when a driver brings honor to the brand by winning twenty-five races, she can have anything she wants. Even if it means painting a beautiful Porsche...pink...because her sixteen-year-old sister wanted it that way.
Paige gives us a wave from behind the wheel as she swings the car around carelessly towards the small roundabout driveway we built in front of the house. She's coming up behind my yellow Porsche Carrera kinda fast.
Paige!
My young sister slams on the brakes, avoiding the back of my car by inches. The passenger door pops open and my nephew, Toby, emerges. The third-grader slings the backpack over his shoulder and lumbers towards the house.
“How was school?” Megan yells.
This makes Toby stop. He stares at the ground as he changes direction to walk over to his mom. He acts like he's being summoned to give a speech in front of class.
“Okay, I guess,” he says.
“Just okay? Nothing interesting happened?”
Toby shrugged. “Mark Bernard took a dump in the reading circle.”
“What?” Megan asks. “You mean he took his pants off and...”
“He dumped in his pants. I don't think he meant to do it. He thought it was just a fart.”
Megan's face turns a bit green.
“Well, you wanted to know,” I say.
My comment makes Toby look up at me. “Hey, can I ask you something? Can I come with you this summer?”
“And do what?”
“Watch you race.”
“I'm sure you can go to one race, sure,” I say.
“Not one race. I want to go to all of them.”
“Not by yourself,” Megan says.
“Paige got to do it,” he says.
“Paige was fifteen. You're only eight.”
“Oh, come on.” He pouts.
“Paige was working for Aunt Samantha as her personal assistant.”
“I can be one of those,” he says.
“Dude, you don't know the first thing about being a personal assistant.” Paige walks over to us, holding her own backpack. “You have to arrange Samantha's schedule. Do errands for her. Help her with her clothes. Keep her on the team’s set schedule. There's no way a little kid could do it.”
Toby's head sinks. He steps into the house, letting the screen door smack shut.
“Poor guy,” Megan says.
“We keep forgetting he's living with four girls,” I say.
“He'll get over it,” Paige says.
“Here’s a thought,” I say. “Why don't you and Toby stay at my place in Germany this summer? And if you want, you can travel with me to the races. Seriously, when was the last time you had a real vacation?”