Part 8-A BETTER OFFER
The short ride to Trixie's was a silent one, with Trixie just staring blankly ahead, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of the Mach 5. Speed didn't venture to converse with her, feeling her distress and not knowing what to do or say to offer relief. He pulled into the driveway of the airfield and up to the cottage.
"Thank you for the ride," Trixie said coolly as she turned to leave but Speed gently took hold of her left wrist to detain her.
"Trix," he said softly, compassion radiating from his cobalt blue orbs. "You can talk to me about this if you want. I'm here for you, honey and I always will be."
Trixie lowered her head, avoiding looking at him. "I know you are and I appreciate it but I need to do something to prove that Wiley's a liar. 'Cause I know he is, I just know it!" she said fiercely.
"Let me help you," Speed offered eagerly but she just shook her head.
"Thanks, but I have to do this for myself. I have to prove that my father is innocent. Or everything he taught me since I could walk, everything I've built my life on was a farce." She got out of the car and closed the door to lean in. "Please thank your folks for being so good to me and let them know how sorry I am that I left so abruptly." She reached in and took her bag then turned and made her way to the door.
Speed watched her, his heart constricting painfully for the new burden Trixie was forced to carry. He was frustrated by his feelings of helplessness, wanting more than anything to help take that bleak dead look from her lovely face and put back the luster in her sea green eyes. But she was shutting him out, and he knew that she was determined to find something, anything, that would restore her shattered faith in her father. He sympathized completely with her because he felt the same way about his older brother Rex, who had been his hero forever. Sighing, he turned the key, shifted gears and backed out to head home.
Later, Speed was sitting in the swing on the patio, alone and brooding. He had refused any food when he returned from Trixie's, in spite of his mother's gentle prodding and made it clear to Spritle to leave him alone. He was totally despondent, ignoring any attempt by his family to snap him out of it, his mind on Trixie and her broken heart.
The sun had begun to set and Speed was still sitting on the patio swing and staring out at nothing when he was joined by Pops.
"Speed, son, your mother and I are getting worried about you. First, Trixie lets us know she's leaving all of a sudden and without an explanation. Then you come back from dropping her off and you close yourself away from us. Now what's going on? Did you and Trixie have a fight?"
Speed shook his head. "No, Pops we didn't."
Pops persisted, "Then what happened, son? Why was she so upset that she had to leave?"
"Inspector Detector dropped a bomb on her and she just wanted to split."
"What kind of a bomb?"
Speed sighed, "Pops, do you remember Shim-Air Enterprises?"
"Sure I do. Mike Shimura was one of the best transport pilots on the circuit. At one time, his services were constantly in demand. Why do you ask?"
Speed leaned forward. "Because that's Trixie's father's business."
Pops' face lit with recognition. "Aha, I knew I'd seen her before."
Speed looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Pops?"
Pops recounted, "I knew Mike Shimura and his reputation in the business for a long time. Not only did he provide track support and transport to various Formula 1 teams, he was a top sponsor, investing millions. I remember now that he was a widower, and had a little girl, his daughter, who was always with him. So Mike's gone huh? I knew I hadn't heard much about him recently. Rumor had it that he'd fallen on hard times."
Speed nodded, "Detector said to Trixie that Wiley, the guy who wanted her to fly for him was the owner of the Alpha Racing Team. This creep Wiley who sent that scum to work Trixie over apparently had a contract with her father before he bought the farm."
"And Trixie never knew?"
"Apparently not," Speed replied. "He met with her and wanted her to fly for him and sabotage the other drivers. She refused, that's why he had his stooge come and beat her up." He rose to his feet and stared sullenly out at the thickening dusk. "You should've seen her face when Detector lowered the boom. Man, Pops it was like she had died inside, she looked like she was falling to pieces. And I felt helpless, Pops, like I couldn't do or say anything," he finished miserably. "She wouldn't say anything to me when I drove her and when I brought her home, she said she wanted to clear her father's name by herself."
Pops went to clasp his middle son's shoulder. "I know, son. But she knows you're there if she needs you."
"But I want to help her, Pops more than anything," Speed insisted stubbornly.
"Son, let me tell you something about women. When they are determined to do something, forget about talking them out of it. And if Trixie feels the need to do this alone, all you can do is stand by in case she needs you."
Speed looked forlornly at his father and Pops was shocked by the reminder of how young he really was. For all his talent and ability behind the wheel, Speed was still after all an eighteen year-old boy, barely over the threshold of manhood. And it appeared he was truly in love for the first time.
Pops led Speed over to the swing where they sat quietly for several minutes, each lost in his own reverie. All of a sudden, Pops perked up and turned to his son with an epiphany, his dark eyes bright in spite of the early evening darkness.
"Speed, Trixie needs to make some money, doesn't she?"
Speed looked up. "Yeah, she said she's got huge hospital bills to pay from her father."
Pops studied Speed intently. "And she hasn't decided what to do yet."
"Nope. I really don't know what if anything she's gonna do." Speed examined his father closely. "Pops what are you getting at?"
"Son, I've been thinking. After Raytona, comes the Grand Prix, kicking off the Formula 1 season."
"Yeah? So?"
"We've yet to find a spotter for those races. And because they're mostly road races, we'll need someone who can fly," Pops said contemplatively.
Speed's eyes lit up with understanding and then he grinned widely. "I get it, Pops. You want Trixie to fly her planes and be our spotter during the races, right?"
Pops nodded, "Right."
Speed jumped to his feet, excited. "I'm gonna go call her and tell her." He started to head in the house but Pops detained him.
"Hold up, Speed. I gotta make some arrangements and get some papers drawn up by my attorney to make everything legal. After that, we'll offer her the contract to be the pilot for the Go Team." Pops informed him. "But don't tell her yet till everything's set up."
Monday afternoon, Trixie was busy unpacking and discarding cartons and boxes that had remained untouched since she and her father had moved in and he became sick. She had been putting it off, but felt the need to finally get herself settled. Plus, she had promised Inspector Detector that she'd try to find proof that what Wiley had said about her father was a lie perpetrated by his own guilt. It had become an obsession with her to clear her father's name and memory and she was relentless in her determination to do it.
She hadn't heard from Speed since he dropped her off home Saturday, which disturbed her and made her a bit paranoid about their budding relationship. He was practicing at the track next door, because through her window, she could hear the roar of the Mach 5 as it made its laps. She thought about calling the track and leaving a message for him but decided against it. She felt that as soon as she could piece together some solid proof in her father's favor, she would resume her relationship with Speed. But for the moment, finding evidence to prove Wiley wrong about her father was her priority.
Trixie pushed a stray chestnut curl back from her eyes and under the bandana kerchief she was wearing and pulled another carton up to where she knelt. She opened it up and began removing items, dusting them with a rag, and placing them on the end table as she rooted through the box. As she got to the bottom of the carton, she was about to give up when her hand came against an unfamiliar manila portfolio, the kind most people kept important papers in. Curious, she pulled the elastic off and opened the folder, finding some papers she had never seen before. She rifled carefully through what appeared to be some legal documents, insurance papers and what appeared to be an agreement of sorts that had a name that caught her eye-Wiley. She read it with all the morbid curiosity of one looking at a highway wreck, her insides twisting with foreboding. As she read the proof, her heart dropped like an anvil off a skyscraper.
"Oh Daddy, how could you?" Trixie cried as she crumpled on the floor, totally disillusioned.
She must have been on the floor for hours for when she awoke, the late afternoon sun was turning the room orange with the dying day's light. In a daze she pushed herself to a sitting position and picked up the document that had been the brick that shattered her world. She idly glanced at it again through a vision made blurry with tears, being drawn again to the words when a knock on her door brought her back. Wiping the warm rivulets from her eyes, Trixie got to her feet and walked to the door. A shiver of fear from the remembrance of the last time she had opened her door skittered down her spine but she quashed it. She cracked the door and peered warily out.
"Y-yes?"
A warm pair of the bluest eyes smiled at her under a wavy shock of hair the color of coal and a soft tenor voice greeted her. "Hi Trix, how ya doing, baby?"
At those words, all the pain of the afternoon's upsetting discovery came out like a flood. "Oh Speed!" Trixie cried as she threw open the door and launched herself in his arms sobbing.
"Hey, Trix it's okay, it's okay," Speed said soothingly as he held her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh Speed," she said brokenly. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked over his shoulder. She became embarrassed when she realized Speed wasn't alone, Pops was there looking extremely uncomfortable. "Oh Pops I'm sorry, I didn't know you were out here."
Pops answered, turning red, "That's okay, Trixie. Can we come in?"
Now it was Trixie's turn to turn red. "O-of course. Please." She stepped back and let the two Racer men in. "Please excuse the mess, I've been trying to unpack and get settled. It's the first time I've been able to since Da-my father died."
Speed and Pops went over to the sheet covered sofa. Trixie managed a polite smile. "Can I get you both anything. A cold drink?" She began to head toward the kitchen but both declined so she took a seat in an easy chair across from them and looked at them inquiringly.
Pops began, "The reason for the visit, Trixie is that we have a business proposition for you."
Trixie's eyes widened. "A business proposition?"
Pops nodded, "The Formula 1 season is about to start in a month and we are finishing putting our team together. We need a pilot as a spotter for the races and since you're quite an accomplished pilot, I'd like to hire you to be the pilot for the Go Team."
Trixie stared at Pops intently. "You want me to be the pilot for the Go Team? What would I have to do?"
Speed replied, "You'd be my spotter. You'd fly above the courses and keep in touch with me via radio as to what road conditions are ahead, if the weather looks threatening, or how close or far I am from the lead car. And if I'm the leader, which I intend to be in every race if I have anything to say, how close the other cars are to me. So what do you say?"
Trixie took a deep breath, then got to her feet and walked to the door gazing out thoughtfully. Speed and Pops exchanged glances then Speed got up and walked over to where Trixie stood.
"Trixie?" he asked softly, tapping her shoulder.
She turned around and eyed him. "Why me?" she wanted to know.
Speed was put off by her somewhat remote manner. "Because you have a reputation as an excellent pilot. Your father's--" he started to say but was cut off.
"Don't you ever, ever mention that man to me again!" Trixie hissed vehemently. She whirled from Speed's presence and leaned against a table taking deep breaths.
Speed was absolutely stunned by her reaction. "Trixie, what's going on?"
She looked up at him, her eyes again brimming with tears. She bent down and picked up the document she had before he and Pops came. "There, read it," she commanded, tossing the paper at him as if it burned her hand.
Speed took the document and skimmed through it. As he read the names, it dawned on him as to why she had been so upset when he and Pops came. He reached over to grasp her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Trix," Speed said softly, his heart breaking for her. She shook her head and shrugged his hands away, turning her back to him, shoulders slumped.
"So again, why would you want me?" Trixie said in a small hard voice.
Speed was at a loss. He didn't know how to answer her because it seemed she was filled with self-recrimination and shame from her father's action. Curious, Pops rose from the couch and took the paper from his son's hand. He perused it and then stepped up to Trixie. Like Speed, he gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him.
"Trixie," Pops began, taking her hand. "Come sit with me, honey. I have something to say to you." She numbly followed him back to the sofa and sat down. "Listen to me. I knew your father very, very well. He was one of the best pilots on the circuit and one of the best spotters. And he was an honest, hard-working man who would never, ever do anything to break the law or cheat. They weren't empty platitudes to him Trixie, he lived by them."
"B-but you read that contract, Pops. If that were true, then why would he enter into an unholy alliance with someone like Wiley?" Trixie asked miserably.
Speed came over and knelt beside her, quietly taking her hand and squeezing it, letting her know he was there. She glanced at him, grateful for the gesture and squeezed back.
Pops continued gently, "Because, honey, a man will do desperate things when his livelihood and his ability to provide for his family begins to slip away from him. And the business he built from nothing was failing."
"But why didn't he tell me? We could've sold my car, I would've quit that expensive boarding school, I would've helped him anyway I could!" Trixie said, tears flowing in earnest.
Pops sighed, "Trixie, men are also proud, stubborn fools who feel that their worth in the eyes of their family is measured in how they provide. And sometimes, the hardest journey for a man is when he has to come home and tell them that he lost everything. He doesn't realize that they love him, no matter what."
Trixie sat silently digesting what Pops was saying. "I did love him, Pops. With all my heart," she murmured.
Pops smiled, "And I know he loved you. He was always talking about his little girl. You were his light, I could see it when he'd talk about you, he'd glow."
Trixie smiled through her tears. Impulsively, she reached and hugged Pops tightly. "Thank you, Pops for telling me that."
Pops returned the embrace and responded, "You're welcome, honey. I didn't want to see you lose the love you had for your father and I didn't want your memories of him to be destroyed. I speak as a father."
Trixie pulled away from Pops and gazed at Speed, who continued kneeling quietly on the floor still holding her hand, his blue eyes gazing intently at her, glowing affectionately. "I hope your sons realize what a very special father they have," she said.
"Don't canonize me yet. I've made my mistakes too and if you have any doubts, ask my wife. I drove my oldest son away from his home and if you ask my middle son, he'll tell you I can be quite hard on him. I believe the word I've heard used to describe me is 'slavedriver." Speed opened his mouth to protest but Pops continued, "Point is, we all make mistakes but the love of our families is what keeps us plugging along and gives us the main reason to go on." He studied her closely. "So, what do you think about our offer?"
Trixie took a deep breath. "You really mean it? Even after what you found out about my father?"
Pops held up a hand. "You're the one I want working with us. If I know Mike, and the kind of pilot he was, he taught you well."
"But he--" she began but Pops cut her off.
"Trixie, your father is dead. And you are not him. So what do you say?"
"Trixie, will you do it? Will you join the Go Team?" Speed asked, his eyes hopeful.
Trixie glanced from one Racer to the other. The same hope radiated from the black eyes as from the blue and made her feel warm and wanted. She smiled shyly at the two waiting men.
"Yes, I will."
Speed jumped to his feet and pulled her up in a delighted hug. "Groovy!" he crowed.
Pops rose as well. "Welcome aboard," he said heartily as he took her from his son's energetic response and shook her hand. "I've got the papers at my office and if you come to the garage tomorrow, you can sign them and we can talk about the details. We'll need to show you the road courses for the races and talk finances."
Trixie nodded, not really paying attention. She was held suspended in time by the cobalt eyes that caressed her as Speed slipped his arm around her waist.
The short ride to Trixie's was a silent one, with Trixie just staring blankly ahead, sitting stiffly in the passenger seat of the Mach 5. Speed didn't venture to converse with her, feeling her distress and not knowing what to do or say to offer relief. He pulled into the driveway of the airfield and up to the cottage.
"Thank you for the ride," Trixie said coolly as she turned to leave but Speed gently took hold of her left wrist to detain her.
"Trix," he said softly, compassion radiating from his cobalt blue orbs. "You can talk to me about this if you want. I'm here for you, honey and I always will be."
Trixie lowered her head, avoiding looking at him. "I know you are and I appreciate it but I need to do something to prove that Wiley's a liar. 'Cause I know he is, I just know it!" she said fiercely.
"Let me help you," Speed offered eagerly but she just shook her head.
"Thanks, but I have to do this for myself. I have to prove that my father is innocent. Or everything he taught me since I could walk, everything I've built my life on was a farce." She got out of the car and closed the door to lean in. "Please thank your folks for being so good to me and let them know how sorry I am that I left so abruptly." She reached in and took her bag then turned and made her way to the door.
Speed watched her, his heart constricting painfully for the new burden Trixie was forced to carry. He was frustrated by his feelings of helplessness, wanting more than anything to help take that bleak dead look from her lovely face and put back the luster in her sea green eyes. But she was shutting him out, and he knew that she was determined to find something, anything, that would restore her shattered faith in her father. He sympathized completely with her because he felt the same way about his older brother Rex, who had been his hero forever. Sighing, he turned the key, shifted gears and backed out to head home.
Later, Speed was sitting in the swing on the patio, alone and brooding. He had refused any food when he returned from Trixie's, in spite of his mother's gentle prodding and made it clear to Spritle to leave him alone. He was totally despondent, ignoring any attempt by his family to snap him out of it, his mind on Trixie and her broken heart.
The sun had begun to set and Speed was still sitting on the patio swing and staring out at nothing when he was joined by Pops.
"Speed, son, your mother and I are getting worried about you. First, Trixie lets us know she's leaving all of a sudden and without an explanation. Then you come back from dropping her off and you close yourself away from us. Now what's going on? Did you and Trixie have a fight?"
Speed shook his head. "No, Pops we didn't."
Pops persisted, "Then what happened, son? Why was she so upset that she had to leave?"
"Inspector Detector dropped a bomb on her and she just wanted to split."
"What kind of a bomb?"
Speed sighed, "Pops, do you remember Shim-Air Enterprises?"
"Sure I do. Mike Shimura was one of the best transport pilots on the circuit. At one time, his services were constantly in demand. Why do you ask?"
Speed leaned forward. "Because that's Trixie's father's business."
Pops' face lit with recognition. "Aha, I knew I'd seen her before."
Speed looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Pops?"
Pops recounted, "I knew Mike Shimura and his reputation in the business for a long time. Not only did he provide track support and transport to various Formula 1 teams, he was a top sponsor, investing millions. I remember now that he was a widower, and had a little girl, his daughter, who was always with him. So Mike's gone huh? I knew I hadn't heard much about him recently. Rumor had it that he'd fallen on hard times."
Speed nodded, "Detector said to Trixie that Wiley, the guy who wanted her to fly for him was the owner of the Alpha Racing Team. This creep Wiley who sent that scum to work Trixie over apparently had a contract with her father before he bought the farm."
"And Trixie never knew?"
"Apparently not," Speed replied. "He met with her and wanted her to fly for him and sabotage the other drivers. She refused, that's why he had his stooge come and beat her up." He rose to his feet and stared sullenly out at the thickening dusk. "You should've seen her face when Detector lowered the boom. Man, Pops it was like she had died inside, she looked like she was falling to pieces. And I felt helpless, Pops, like I couldn't do or say anything," he finished miserably. "She wouldn't say anything to me when I drove her and when I brought her home, she said she wanted to clear her father's name by herself."
Pops went to clasp his middle son's shoulder. "I know, son. But she knows you're there if she needs you."
"But I want to help her, Pops more than anything," Speed insisted stubbornly.
"Son, let me tell you something about women. When they are determined to do something, forget about talking them out of it. And if Trixie feels the need to do this alone, all you can do is stand by in case she needs you."
Speed looked forlornly at his father and Pops was shocked by the reminder of how young he really was. For all his talent and ability behind the wheel, Speed was still after all an eighteen year-old boy, barely over the threshold of manhood. And it appeared he was truly in love for the first time.
Pops led Speed over to the swing where they sat quietly for several minutes, each lost in his own reverie. All of a sudden, Pops perked up and turned to his son with an epiphany, his dark eyes bright in spite of the early evening darkness.
"Speed, Trixie needs to make some money, doesn't she?"
Speed looked up. "Yeah, she said she's got huge hospital bills to pay from her father."
Pops studied Speed intently. "And she hasn't decided what to do yet."
"Nope. I really don't know what if anything she's gonna do." Speed examined his father closely. "Pops what are you getting at?"
"Son, I've been thinking. After Raytona, comes the Grand Prix, kicking off the Formula 1 season."
"Yeah? So?"
"We've yet to find a spotter for those races. And because they're mostly road races, we'll need someone who can fly," Pops said contemplatively.
Speed's eyes lit up with understanding and then he grinned widely. "I get it, Pops. You want Trixie to fly her planes and be our spotter during the races, right?"
Pops nodded, "Right."
Speed jumped to his feet, excited. "I'm gonna go call her and tell her." He started to head in the house but Pops detained him.
"Hold up, Speed. I gotta make some arrangements and get some papers drawn up by my attorney to make everything legal. After that, we'll offer her the contract to be the pilot for the Go Team." Pops informed him. "But don't tell her yet till everything's set up."
Monday afternoon, Trixie was busy unpacking and discarding cartons and boxes that had remained untouched since she and her father had moved in and he became sick. She had been putting it off, but felt the need to finally get herself settled. Plus, she had promised Inspector Detector that she'd try to find proof that what Wiley had said about her father was a lie perpetrated by his own guilt. It had become an obsession with her to clear her father's name and memory and she was relentless in her determination to do it.
She hadn't heard from Speed since he dropped her off home Saturday, which disturbed her and made her a bit paranoid about their budding relationship. He was practicing at the track next door, because through her window, she could hear the roar of the Mach 5 as it made its laps. She thought about calling the track and leaving a message for him but decided against it. She felt that as soon as she could piece together some solid proof in her father's favor, she would resume her relationship with Speed. But for the moment, finding evidence to prove Wiley wrong about her father was her priority.
Trixie pushed a stray chestnut curl back from her eyes and under the bandana kerchief she was wearing and pulled another carton up to where she knelt. She opened it up and began removing items, dusting them with a rag, and placing them on the end table as she rooted through the box. As she got to the bottom of the carton, she was about to give up when her hand came against an unfamiliar manila portfolio, the kind most people kept important papers in. Curious, she pulled the elastic off and opened the folder, finding some papers she had never seen before. She rifled carefully through what appeared to be some legal documents, insurance papers and what appeared to be an agreement of sorts that had a name that caught her eye-Wiley. She read it with all the morbid curiosity of one looking at a highway wreck, her insides twisting with foreboding. As she read the proof, her heart dropped like an anvil off a skyscraper.
"Oh Daddy, how could you?" Trixie cried as she crumpled on the floor, totally disillusioned.
She must have been on the floor for hours for when she awoke, the late afternoon sun was turning the room orange with the dying day's light. In a daze she pushed herself to a sitting position and picked up the document that had been the brick that shattered her world. She idly glanced at it again through a vision made blurry with tears, being drawn again to the words when a knock on her door brought her back. Wiping the warm rivulets from her eyes, Trixie got to her feet and walked to the door. A shiver of fear from the remembrance of the last time she had opened her door skittered down her spine but she quashed it. She cracked the door and peered warily out.
"Y-yes?"
A warm pair of the bluest eyes smiled at her under a wavy shock of hair the color of coal and a soft tenor voice greeted her. "Hi Trix, how ya doing, baby?"
At those words, all the pain of the afternoon's upsetting discovery came out like a flood. "Oh Speed!" Trixie cried as she threw open the door and launched herself in his arms sobbing.
"Hey, Trix it's okay, it's okay," Speed said soothingly as he held her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh Speed," she said brokenly. She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked over his shoulder. She became embarrassed when she realized Speed wasn't alone, Pops was there looking extremely uncomfortable. "Oh Pops I'm sorry, I didn't know you were out here."
Pops answered, turning red, "That's okay, Trixie. Can we come in?"
Now it was Trixie's turn to turn red. "O-of course. Please." She stepped back and let the two Racer men in. "Please excuse the mess, I've been trying to unpack and get settled. It's the first time I've been able to since Da-my father died."
Speed and Pops went over to the sheet covered sofa. Trixie managed a polite smile. "Can I get you both anything. A cold drink?" She began to head toward the kitchen but both declined so she took a seat in an easy chair across from them and looked at them inquiringly.
Pops began, "The reason for the visit, Trixie is that we have a business proposition for you."
Trixie's eyes widened. "A business proposition?"
Pops nodded, "The Formula 1 season is about to start in a month and we are finishing putting our team together. We need a pilot as a spotter for the races and since you're quite an accomplished pilot, I'd like to hire you to be the pilot for the Go Team."
Trixie stared at Pops intently. "You want me to be the pilot for the Go Team? What would I have to do?"
Speed replied, "You'd be my spotter. You'd fly above the courses and keep in touch with me via radio as to what road conditions are ahead, if the weather looks threatening, or how close or far I am from the lead car. And if I'm the leader, which I intend to be in every race if I have anything to say, how close the other cars are to me. So what do you say?"
Trixie took a deep breath, then got to her feet and walked to the door gazing out thoughtfully. Speed and Pops exchanged glances then Speed got up and walked over to where Trixie stood.
"Trixie?" he asked softly, tapping her shoulder.
She turned around and eyed him. "Why me?" she wanted to know.
Speed was put off by her somewhat remote manner. "Because you have a reputation as an excellent pilot. Your father's--" he started to say but was cut off.
"Don't you ever, ever mention that man to me again!" Trixie hissed vehemently. She whirled from Speed's presence and leaned against a table taking deep breaths.
Speed was absolutely stunned by her reaction. "Trixie, what's going on?"
She looked up at him, her eyes again brimming with tears. She bent down and picked up the document she had before he and Pops came. "There, read it," she commanded, tossing the paper at him as if it burned her hand.
Speed took the document and skimmed through it. As he read the names, it dawned on him as to why she had been so upset when he and Pops came. He reached over to grasp her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Trix," Speed said softly, his heart breaking for her. She shook her head and shrugged his hands away, turning her back to him, shoulders slumped.
"So again, why would you want me?" Trixie said in a small hard voice.
Speed was at a loss. He didn't know how to answer her because it seemed she was filled with self-recrimination and shame from her father's action. Curious, Pops rose from the couch and took the paper from his son's hand. He perused it and then stepped up to Trixie. Like Speed, he gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him.
"Trixie," Pops began, taking her hand. "Come sit with me, honey. I have something to say to you." She numbly followed him back to the sofa and sat down. "Listen to me. I knew your father very, very well. He was one of the best pilots on the circuit and one of the best spotters. And he was an honest, hard-working man who would never, ever do anything to break the law or cheat. They weren't empty platitudes to him Trixie, he lived by them."
"B-but you read that contract, Pops. If that were true, then why would he enter into an unholy alliance with someone like Wiley?" Trixie asked miserably.
Speed came over and knelt beside her, quietly taking her hand and squeezing it, letting her know he was there. She glanced at him, grateful for the gesture and squeezed back.
Pops continued gently, "Because, honey, a man will do desperate things when his livelihood and his ability to provide for his family begins to slip away from him. And the business he built from nothing was failing."
"But why didn't he tell me? We could've sold my car, I would've quit that expensive boarding school, I would've helped him anyway I could!" Trixie said, tears flowing in earnest.
Pops sighed, "Trixie, men are also proud, stubborn fools who feel that their worth in the eyes of their family is measured in how they provide. And sometimes, the hardest journey for a man is when he has to come home and tell them that he lost everything. He doesn't realize that they love him, no matter what."
Trixie sat silently digesting what Pops was saying. "I did love him, Pops. With all my heart," she murmured.
Pops smiled, "And I know he loved you. He was always talking about his little girl. You were his light, I could see it when he'd talk about you, he'd glow."
Trixie smiled through her tears. Impulsively, she reached and hugged Pops tightly. "Thank you, Pops for telling me that."
Pops returned the embrace and responded, "You're welcome, honey. I didn't want to see you lose the love you had for your father and I didn't want your memories of him to be destroyed. I speak as a father."
Trixie pulled away from Pops and gazed at Speed, who continued kneeling quietly on the floor still holding her hand, his blue eyes gazing intently at her, glowing affectionately. "I hope your sons realize what a very special father they have," she said.
"Don't canonize me yet. I've made my mistakes too and if you have any doubts, ask my wife. I drove my oldest son away from his home and if you ask my middle son, he'll tell you I can be quite hard on him. I believe the word I've heard used to describe me is 'slavedriver." Speed opened his mouth to protest but Pops continued, "Point is, we all make mistakes but the love of our families is what keeps us plugging along and gives us the main reason to go on." He studied her closely. "So, what do you think about our offer?"
Trixie took a deep breath. "You really mean it? Even after what you found out about my father?"
Pops held up a hand. "You're the one I want working with us. If I know Mike, and the kind of pilot he was, he taught you well."
"But he--" she began but Pops cut her off.
"Trixie, your father is dead. And you are not him. So what do you say?"
"Trixie, will you do it? Will you join the Go Team?" Speed asked, his eyes hopeful.
Trixie glanced from one Racer to the other. The same hope radiated from the black eyes as from the blue and made her feel warm and wanted. She smiled shyly at the two waiting men.
"Yes, I will."
Speed jumped to his feet and pulled her up in a delighted hug. "Groovy!" he crowed.
Pops rose as well. "Welcome aboard," he said heartily as he took her from his son's energetic response and shook her hand. "I've got the papers at my office and if you come to the garage tomorrow, you can sign them and we can talk about the details. We'll need to show you the road courses for the races and talk finances."
Trixie nodded, not really paying attention. She was held suspended in time by the cobalt eyes that caressed her as Speed slipped his arm around her waist.