I do not own Cars, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do, however, own all the Original Characters.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
December, 1949
Dave, whose entire life was dedicated to a considerable amount of planning and structure, was baffled by the young female concierge's apparent lack of remorse which others might call professionalism. "But I made this reservation months ago," the maroon and black car repeated, his voice raising a few decibels and echoing in the late night empty lobby. He watched with disgust as the concierge fumbled through her guestbook for an answer he did not want to hear again. After driving several hours through a wet winter day, to a ritzy hotel in Saint Augustine he reserved a suite at for their anniversary and late honeymoon, there were no rooms left available.
"I'm so sorry, sir," the concierge continued, averting her eyes to avoid his stare and Joanna's fading hope. "it's the holidays and we accidentally overbooked."
Around the time Dave realized repeating himself would not change the situation, nor would it change her ability to care beyond this instance on a grandeur level, Joanna intervened before his shock wore into a tirade. "It's okay, honey," she reassured as she touched a tire lightly to his fender. "we'll find another place." She beckoned him to follow her, which he reluctantly did after he was satisfied the concierge truly felt his contempt.
Dave pulled alongside Joanna outside under the awning. Once again facing the chilling rain, together they peered into the blackness of a night that felt as damp as his enthusiasm. When Joanna leaned on him for the warmth of his engine he sighed and fell into his thoughts. Not knowing anything useful about the town and feeling as though he had disappointed her, he suggested they drive north and closer to home to cancel and try again later.
Joanna was adamant about staying, however, and countered with staying in a room at the motel she spotted just down the road. Dave narrowed his eyes at the neon sign that bore a cheesy name and scoffed at the audacity of her idea. Before the maroon and black car could mock the motel, he caught the strong pleading in her eyes that caused him to realize it was not about the motel, but something much more. In that same instance he felt he deserved a look similar to the one he gave the concierge, yet she held on to a hope he dared not to break.
But now, sitting before their motel room in the gravel parking lot, he felt he would rather sleep outside in the rain than confront what was on the other side of their mildew-coated door. He watched as Joanna unlocked it with an excitement that turned amusement, almost relishing in his discomfort for what she continually assured him was an adventure rather than desperation. Still not wanting to tell her no on their anniversary, Dave followed her through the threshold with a groan so pitiful she began to giggle.
A yellow lamp flickered on to reveal exactly what he expected. In quiet horror, Dave inspected the place while Joanna removed their first bottle of wine from his trunk so expensive it could of paid for every room in the complex. The carpet felt sticky in some places. He refused to glance at the bed. The place smelled wet, which he surmised had nothing to do with the weather. While his wife seemed to settle right in, he struggled to convince himself to use a towel to dry off his grille; as expected, the cloth was rough enough to make him wonder if it scratched his gold plated trim.
When Dave returned from the bathroom he saw Joanna had already poured their first glasses of wine and was settled atop the bed waiting for him. Her deep, charming smile was irresistible and was his only encouragement for tracking back across the questionable carpeting. After joining her on the bed and gingerly settling down, he released a deep sigh which conveyed his mental exhaustion. He cradled his wine glass closely.
After they finished the first bottle, Dave loosened up and so had the conversation. The married couple chatted for hours into the night, sharing pieces of themselves with each other in an unconventional situation that brought surprising relief to them both. During their first pause, they listened to the rain on the tin roof that would of been snow had they not been so close to the coast.
Dave relished in the feeling of Joanna snuggled close to him as he mused thoughts of their relationship as of late. Life at the mansion had been different since their return from the cabin. He was home on time, more attentive, and more observant. He also knew he had grown a kind of quiet that concerned Joanna on a deeper level, but merely thankful for changes he should have made long ago, she remained patient and resolved herself to enjoy the added hours she had with him each day.
Dave stared at the misaligned wallpaper across from him for so long that the outline of the floral print began to distort. His vision blurring, he sank deeper into his mind as memories of his childhood came forth vividly. The more he dwelled the more he felt the stinging prick of tears in his windshield.
"Honey, are you okay?" Joanna asked, breaking him from his daze. He looked over at her in question. "Your hold on me is tight."
Dave didn't realize he had pulled her tire against his fender intensely and he released his grip. The maroon and black car shifted around on the bed to better face her; it was then she began to notice the desperation in his eyes and the gathering of tears. He knew that if he did not speak now, she would forever be held hostage. "I'm so sorry I've made you wait this long for me…"
Having never seen her husband so vulnerable, and unsure of whether Dave wanted comfort, she asked the only thing she could. "What do you mean?"
"I've spent most of our relationship avoiding it," he admitted. "It has nothing to do with anything you've ever said or done." Touched by his sincerity and moment of clarity, he watched as fast tears pooled in her own eyes and rolled over her hood. "Darling," he breathed, sweeping her into a close embrace. "it would be a shame not to make you a mother. I'm ready." The kiss to follow from Joanna was one to rival their very first night together. Aching to feel and have more of him she accidentally spilled the rest of the bottle and nearly pushed him off the bed entirely. His honesty giving way to a new and profound connection with her, Dave became intensely aroused. Entangled on the wine and tear soaked sheets, his eyes full of emotion and body heavy with lust, he broke the kiss only to give her a smile that paused time. "Wanna start trying for that baby right now?"
It had been nearly a week since the subpoena was served and Brian was not sober for a moment of it. The penthouse was still wrecked from the party and out of anger he destroyed a bit more. Locking himself away in solitude, he spent his days passed out and his nights pacing while waning between fury and anguish, waiting for Tina Marie to show face after a generous friend posted her hefty bail. He desperately wanted to disown her and to have left the penthouse, but if he had any chance of avoiding prison, he needed to speak privately with her first.
With the last remaining liquor bottle by his fender, Brian forced himself to review the court documents again. He spread the papers over a cracked glass table in the living room to confront the reality where the sacrifices of Jackie and Mackey were unraveled by the choices of his now ex-lover. He read each paragraph with visible despair, taking generous swings of bourbon when intrusive thoughts of Miranda's mutilated body consumed his vision. Each day provided a new pain in which he struggled to keep himself together in a place he wanted to burn down. A profound loneliness that he had never encountered until now sunk deep into his body.
Having read all that he could tolerate, he averted his eyes to the only newspaper he bothered to retrieve from the hallway. With heat in his gaze he read the headline for the hundredth time. Murder Suicide. A sultry picture of Tina Marie positioned just underneath like a banner across the page, showcasing her involvement, and betrayal to him, in bold letters like the permanent insult it was. The following paragraph revealed the details of the scandal, her inevitable apprehension, and his possible involvement among other personal and painful details of their tragedy.
He glanced up at the front door when he heard the deadbolt slide across. The days he spent preparing himself for this moment felt useless - the contents of his tank suddenly felt rotten and he fought the urge to hurl. With a shaky tire, he lit a cigarette to calm his nerves just as Tina Marie idled through the threshold with her own packet of court documents. She stared into his cold brown eyes from across the room. Although she knew better to expect a reassuring embrace, she was devastated to see his look of abhorrence. In the silence that passed between them, the years behind them did also. A stranger sat parked before her.
Tina Marie had the mindfulness to shut the front door before succumbing to a quiet breakdown on her way to the kitchen. With bleary eyes, and her own exhaustions weighing her down by the fenders, she reached for a crystal glass on the island before turning to the bottles along the counter, the grimace on her grille growing as each bottle she tipped over the edge proved to be depleted. "I'm in a lot of trouble," she whispered.
Brian rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the subpoena. "So am I," he scoffed, flipping through the pages in hopes the contents had changed; he tapped his cigarette ashes on the newspaper. "do you know how close I came to getting dragged out of here? They don't need any more reason to kill me." When she didn't reply he looked up to see her wide-eyed with tears rolling down her hood. "Oh, you didn't think after your fuck up they wouldn't come looking for me too? That they wouldn't suspect I was behind this after what happened on the mountain?"
Tina Marie expected his resentment, but at the realization the federal court wanted to indict Brian for possible involvement, the empty crystal glass she was holding rattled out of her tire and shattered, like her own life, onto the marble flooring. Her efforts to exclude and protect him proved useless and she sobbed openly. A new desperation gripped her. "I am so, so sorry about Miranda," she breathed. "I-I didn't know she was planning to-"
Brian closed his eyes tightly and shook his hood. "Please, stop," he interrupted, holding up a tire. "I don't want to fucking hear it. It was none of your business to get involved…"
Tina Marie did not expect him to understand his sharp and devastating words in the midst of his own pain. She drew a shaky breath before grabbing a towel from the counter to dry her grille, reflecting on all the nights she held him close, wiping tears, years of vulnerability in which she was the only witness, how deeply his comment struck her as though it never mattered; she chose to shrug instead of reminding him. "How do we fix this?"
Brian retrieved another cigarette. "The same way we've always handled things," he replied, striking the match and tossing its book on the table. He inhaled deeply before glaring her way. "I'll need names and details later."
Tina Marie propped her weight to one side of her chassis with a thoughtfulness in her gaze that angered him more. The lavender car felt the temper she expected to receive was only comments away. He had all but made her an enemy and she felt it. "Then why didn't you do that for Miranda years ago?"
The green and black car's mouth fell agape in shock at her question, the cigarette barely hanging on his lips as the loathing in his glare grew. The resentment he felt for her in that moment was unprecedented. "Because of shit like this, T, because it would of turned into the exact mess we have right now," he spat. "everything Jackie and Mackey tried to protect is ruined. Are you implying that I don't understand love?"
"No," she breathed, averting her gaze to the shards of glass beside her frame. "but I understand why she did it. She didn't want to be safe or alive, Brian, she wanted her husband," she reasoned, pleading with him to understand the other side of loss. "I would have done the same for you even though you can't be bothered to say that you love me."
Brian shook his hood, withdrawing his rage to reveal another grief. "Don't try to justify what you did. I'm not sure I'll ever say it after this conversation. After our case settles, I never want to speak to you again." When he lifted the bottle of bourbon to his mouth she saw his obvious trembling from across the room. "He had his tires all over you and his tongue in your mouth, just how far did you go with him?" He set the bottle down on the glass table so harshly it threatened to finish breaking it.
Tina Marie was in shock at his comment, involuntarily rolling backwards in disbelief. "Oh don't even act like I enjoyed it. Out of everything I've done in my career, this is what bothers you?"
"You're fucking right!" he finally snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. "It was the one cop that took away everything that mattered to me!"
His rage enticed her to bite back. More tears gathered at the bottle of her windshield and she wished she still had that glass to throw towards him. "Everything that mattered to you, huh?" she repeated.
Brian's expression softened but his glare did not. He realized what he said. He soaked in the entirety of her, this regretful moment, and the loss of what would never be again. The redness of his own windshield swelled brighter the more her face contorted into a grimace to stifle a mutual pain. "Yeah," he breathed. "everything." When she turned away from him he released a heavy sigh. With bourbon in tow, he slowly approached the kitchen island, resting the bottle on the counter as he watched her frame shake from quiet sobs. "I'll take care of it," he finally spoke, answering her question from earlier.
Tina Marie knew what he meant. She sniffled. "Thank you, Bri…"
The green and black car turned to leave the penthouse and locate Chase.
Insatiable was the only fitting word Joanna could use to describe her husband. In the course of a year he had gone from distant workaholic to attentive and caring lover, becoming the man she always knew he could be once again. Since their anniversary, they made love nearly every night, with the sex better than the previous. Joanna had never felt happier with him, with her life, and her future until now.
The light in his eyes that once shone for her had returned as bright as the fire she was stoking on this colder than average night. When the front door opened she did not immediately greet him, instead smiling warmly and repeating a phrase she would say adoringly during the first few months of their relationship. "Is that my hard working business man?" she asked, feeling him come up behind her and kiss her bumper. Joanna sighed contently.
"I thought about you all day, babe," he breathed, planting more tender kisses along her back.
Joanna grinned. "What a coincidence," she replied. The purple and black car was about to turn around to kiss him back when she felt his tongue slip beneath her undercarriage. Frozen by the instant pleasure, her mouth fell agape the more he explored, stirring sensations that grew intensely. Her rear axle quivered. Spellbound by the raging flames before her and desire swelling within, she absently widened her rear tires. "Are we gonna do this right here?" she panted. His answer was wordless, mounting her and sliding inside with an eagerness that elicited a moan from his wife which echoed throughout the mansion.
Brian's three favorite things in life were women, racing, and teasing James. New Year's Eve was no exception. While everyone waited for the main show downtown that could be seen from Dave's porch, the boys chased each other around in the middle of the street with tiny fireworks, receiving the occasional scolding from the women when the banter became too sketchy. The crew chief sat at the edge of the front lawn with a glass of scotch in one tire and a roman candle in the other, aiming for James' bumper and undercarriage whenever he would zoom by.
When he started to shiver he knew he was due for a refill. Brian returned to the porch just in time to overhear Cassie discussing wedding venue ideas with Dave who earlier offered to pay for the ceremony, however he was more captivated by the way Joanna weightlessly glided across the patio on her way back inside to fix more warmed oil for everyone; he was certain she was humming a Lena Horne song.
Just tipsy enough to be bold, Brian very quietly followed her inside and parked at the edge of the kitchen. Still just as entranced in her own world, Joanna had yet to notice his presence and continued to clean while the oil warmed on the stove. She was all smiles and elated in a way he had not seen in months. He admired how the crystal chandelier gave depth to her royal purple paint that impressed him every time, creating a vibrancy that could only be enhanced by the internal radiance she exuded at this moment.
With a soft smile and glass in tow, he pulled alongside her in front of the sink. She glanced over only briefly to flash him an all-knowing grin. Brian dried mugs as she washed them, reveling in her burning silent curiosity until he was sure she couldn't take it anymore. "Do you know how many times in my life I've heard a woman hum just like that?" She couldn't help how loudly she giggled and it only deepened his grin. Suddenly shy, she hid her blush by turning back to the stove to duck out of his view, but he would not let her get away that easily. He brought all the newly cleaned mugs over to the other countertop for her. "Tell me, what has you so giddy?"
Joanna bit down on her lower lip in thought. She had not told anyone their plans yet, but there was no lying to Brian. "Dave and I are finally trying to have a baby," she admitted with a bright smile; to say it out loud made her feel whole. One by one she filled the mugs. "I've wanted for so long to be a mother…"
Brian cleared his pipes. He never knew anyone to be so excited to get pregnant and was not sure what to say in response to something so personal. His momentary shock faded and his smile returned. "I'll wish you an early congratulations," he began. "you're not even pregnant yet and you're already glowing."
Just as Joanna turned to thank him, she was interrupted by the colorful flash and first boom of real fireworks coming from downtown. They peered through the kitchen window to see the boys rushing to gather along the porch. They turned to look at each other. Something passed through Brian that he was not expecting, and thankfully went unnoticed by Joanna who was caught in her own bliss. "We should get back out there," she said.
The green and black car nodded, quickly helping to place all of the mugs onto the tray. When she left he stayed behind to refill his drink - and for a moment to himself he suddenly needed.