Page 126 of The Fast Lane

“What happened?” Dad asked.

Keep going, Ramos. “I had a seizure while I was driving.”

Mom gasped. “You could have died. What were you thinking?”

“I already told you what I was thinking. I was a dumb, angry kid who’d lost all her independence and I needed to feel a little bit of freedom.”

“I never should have let her talk me into it. I thought a short drive wouldn’t be a big deal,” Abe said, his voice low. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

I pressed my hands to my too-hot cheeks and found them wet. Damn tears. “And then this idiot took all the blame for it. By the time I figured out what he’d done, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I was scared I’d disappoint you or you’d be so upset, you’d take away more from me. I’ve been scared since that accident. Scared to drive, scared to upset you and Dad, scared to do a lot of the things I want to do because I don’t want to worry anyone. But being scared, it’s holding me back from doing a lot of things.”

“Oh, honey.” Mom wrapped me in a smothering hug. “I don’t know whether to be angry or relieved right now.”

“Be both. I can handle it.”

Mom stepped back and wiped my cheeks, her smile small but comforting. “We need pie.”

“Yes, pie would be wonderful.”

She took my hand. “Let’s go find some and we’ll talk.”

“I’d like that.”

I followed behind her but when Dad and Abe made to follow, too, I stopped and turned, glaring at them both. “You two do not deserve pie. The both of you need to sit down and figure out how to talk to each other. Talk, not yell, not ignore each other. Talk. What time is it, Mom?”

“A quarter after eight.”

I poked them both in the chest with my finger. “You have two hours. Together in this room. No leaving and no yelling. Quit being so damn stubborn and figure it out.”

Mom nodded. “What she said.”

With a smile, I took Mom’s hand. “Now, let’s go find some pie.”

FIFTY-THREE

Note to self:

Buy a second copy of How to Pirate Like a Professional to keep in the car.

Mom and I had a long talk at a little café we found a few blocks from the hotel. She cried; I cried. All the things I’d kept in came bursting out. I even told her about the seizure eight months ago. To her credit, she held it together.

“I can’t just turn off my worrying, honey,” she said.

“I need you to rein it in some.”

Somehow, I knew we’d have this conversation again and I was okay with it. I was lucky to have people who loved me enough to worry about me. The alternative was pretty damn depressing.

Back at the hotel, Mom hugged me long and hard before heading back to her room to see the state Dad and Abe were in. It was when I was strolling by the lounge I saw him, a handsome man with curly blond hair, nursing a drink and staring at a game on the television.

Like the creeper I was, and had always been where Theo was concerned, I watched him for a while. With his hunched shoulders and pensive, forlorn expression, he reminded me of a lost little boy. My heart squeezed.

I strolled in and slid onto the stool next to him. “Hi.”

He turned. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hi.”

“So, how’s your grog?”

One dark-blond eyebrow lifted. “Pretty good.”