Off the Mark, page 33
She swallowed, eyes shining bright. “That would be a dream come true.”
“And where’s home for you, Charlie?” I murmured.
“Here, in South Philly. If you’ll have me,” she said.
My throat tightened. “Yes. That’s my dream come true.”
“And on the road, traveling to my races.” She lowered her face to mine, held my hand over her heart. “Wherever we’re together, that’s our home.”
She kissed me, and it felt like a promise. I kissed her back, and it was a declaration.
That I would happily love Charlie Maddox for the rest of my life.
32
CHARLIE
Three days later
Showing up at the championship race with Rowan was the best decision I’d ever made in my life.
He released me as soon as we got there, giving me a passionate kiss and whispering, “Come meet me in the stands for a surprise in a minute. Have fun with your adoring fans, gorgeous.”
I turned to reply, but then those fans descended, and even a few media outlets. A banner hung from the bleachers that read Welcome to the Annual Women's Moto Championships!
The buzz around me was tangibly thrilling. I signed autographs and took pictures, my nerve endings jittery. Though it was less anxiety and more the lingering euphoria of these past days with Rowan—tangled and sweaty in his bed. Laughing together on his stoop. Drinking beers with the neighbors on kiddie pool nights.
It was the exact opposite from how I’d felt on that first race, when I was hungover and panicked. Sure, I’d been kicked off of Bettencourt, but in a few weeks, I’d be officially signing on with Riley and Quinn’s team of fearless, bloodthirsty women.
And it felt right in a way that Bettencourt never had.
Our bikes were already lined up at the start gates—mine had been tuned up and triple checked by the mechanics, the metal gleaming beneath the summer sun. I signed my last autograph then went to go find Rowan in the stands.
Though it wasn’t Rowan I bumped into first, but Alice. She was clutching a lemonade and a soft pretzel, beaming around at the racetrack like she’d never seen anything so exciting.
“Oh, Charlie, happy race day, dear. You look so lovely with all of your gear on.”
I gave her a surprised hug. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you. Are you wearing your charm?”
“Wouldn’t leave home without it.” I pulled the chain from around my neck to show her.
She admired it, then winked at me. “You won’t need any luck though. You’re all heart. So are you surprised? Rowan had the lovely idea to invite everyone along.”
I followed her gaze to the stands, just as he appeared by my side, slipping an arm around my waist. Pink glitter signs flashed bright, a whole handful that read Charlie Maddox is #1! They were held by Dean and Tabitha. Dean’s mothers and Eddie. And Dempsey, in a black-and-white suit. She blew me a kiss, then cheered my name.
“They came for me?” I asked around a lump in my throat. “I never had a cheering section before.”
Alice touched my hand. “What else is community for? And I adored meeting your father. What a charmer he is, all that hair and those tattoos.”
I blinked. “My…who? What?”
“Your dad.” She pointed to the parking lot, where I spotted a very familiar man with long gray hair, faded tattoos, and a leather vest. He raised his hand toward me excitedly.
Rowan leaned in and whispered, “Surprise.”
When I gawked up at him, he shrugged. “I made a secret trip up and back to Syracuse last night when you were out with Riley and Quinn.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. Alice waved as she walked off, with a cheerful, “Make South Philly proud!”
The second she was gone, I grabbed Rowan by the collar and dragged him in for a kiss. “You brought my dad to see my race?”
“I sure did. You should go say hi. He’s super happy to be here with you. He was mobbed immediately by fans when we got here early, but he gave them strict instructions to leave him alone until he could see his favorite daughter.”
I grabbed his face. “I love you so much.”
He kissed my forehead. “Love you more, gorgeous. Now go fucking win.”
Grinning, I made my way through to the parking lot with about ten minutes to go. My dad opened his arms, and I fell into them for a hug I hadn’t known I needed. He smelled like bike grease and worn leather.
“Hiya, honey. I sure did miss you.”
I sighed. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“I had to see you win, didn’t I?” he said. “Plus, I wanna stick it to those Bettencourt assholes if I see ’em.”
“Don’t worry. Dempsey’s already scared them off. Did you walk the track earlier?”
He cast his gaze out over the dirt and jumps. “That stair set on the third curve will be killer. If you keep your grip loose and the throttle light, you’ll sail over it like a star.”
I made a mental note and said, “Got it. And did Rowan really drive you the five hours to Philly?”
He chuckled. “That’s one hell of a guy you got there. And I’m not only saying that because we did, in fact, spend five hours together. But he talked me through some of the nerves I had about the financial program I’m signing up for. I felt so much more comfortable by the end, honestly I did. I’m grateful that you told me about it.”
After I’d asked Rowan for help, he’d asked Elaine's advice. She had colleagues in Syracuse working on a pilot program that mitigated evictions for seniors, a program that acted as a mediator between the homeowner and the mortgage company. It would require a lot of work, and a longer payment plan, but if all went well my dad would keep the house—all on his own.
“I’m glad, Dad. Money stuff is so frustrating and confusing. But Rowan and Eddie and Dean are experts in helping people through programs like that. You’re gonna do great.”
He was nodding but holding my hand with a more serious expression from him than I was used to. He sniffed, looking around, then said, “Charlie, I…all this stuff with the eviction, talking to Rowan, it's making me think about things, about memories that are difficult to go back to.”
I blinked, remembering Rowan lying in the grass, the compassion on his face as he said how did you feel?
“What kinds of memories?” I asked.
“Oh, well…how challenging it is as a parent, when you get older, when you have to live with the mistakes that you've made. I made a lot of mistakes with you, Charlie, and sometimes I avoid talking about them because it's tough.”
He passed a hand over the top of his gray hair. “There was a long stretch there when you weren’t my priority and should have been. I know what you did for me, honey. Know how hard you worked to keep a roof over our heads when you were nothing but a kid. I can't undo that, though I wish every day that I could. But I can work on the stuff I'm not good at.” A sheepish grin. “Like money.”
I laughed a little, squeezing his hand. “Okay, it's…never been your strong suit.”
“It’s not. And over time, I put a lot of pressure on you to fix everything, like it was your job. It’s not your job. Though you’ve got a big heart for always trying and it’s one of the reasons why I love you so much.”
I was surprised at how stunned I was, shocked by the sensation of a weight lifting from my shoulders. An understanding between the two of us that wouldn’t be immediate, but now we had a chance—a chance to be open, a chance to change.
“I love you too, Dad,” I said. “Maybe we can keep talking about some of these tough memories? Because I would like that.”
“I would love it.” He bent to rummage in a bag. “And don't think I couldn't come all this way without a gift.”
He pulled out a slightly faded racing jacket that was in great condition. He shook it out and showed me the back. Our last name was spelled in all caps in large white letters with orange flames decorating the sides.
“What do you think?” he asked. “It’s a classic.”
I laughed, delighted, and held out my arms for him to pull it on. I tugged the zipper up and did a little twirl. “Oh, Dad, I love it. Why not race around that track in style?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” he said, now holding up my helmet. I let him place it on my head the way I had as a kid. His eyes were wet. So were mine. “I can’t change the past, Charlie, but I can tell you all of this”—he waved his hand around at the commotion surrounding us—“all of this was nothin’ compared to how proud I was to be your dad. How proud I am every single day.”
I bit my lip, trying not to cry too hard before the most important race of my career. “I’m always proud to be your daughter. Because I love you.”
He tapped me on the tip of the nose. “I love you too. Now go get ’em, tiger. Let’s show all these people that the Maddoxes know how to fly.”
The five-minute countdown started, sending all of us to our bikes behind the start gates. I swung a leg over the seat, snapped on my goggles, and pulled on my gloves. I saw Riley down the line and waved. Engines roared, dust flew up, and the flag was poised to fall.
Past the thundering bikes, wild and rowdy in the stands, my community was screaming my name. I grinned, catching Rowan’s eye and holding it, basking in his love.
In fact, I was so focused on my ginger hunk that when the flag fell, I thought for sure that I’d lose.
I didn’t.
I won.
I knew why—it was a combination of Alice’s good luck charm, my neighbors cheering in the stands, and the fact that I was just that incredible. And at the finish line, Rowan was waiting, arms wide and an ecstatic smile I would remember for the rest of my life.
I leapt into those strong arms, and he spun me in a circle, a rain of rainbow confetti falling all around us.
Dimly, I heard an announcer call, “This year’s championship winner is Charlie Maddox.” Fans surged forward, the crowd pressed close, but Rowan and I were lost in our own world together.
I knew that real, authentic love wasn’t always spinning in a sea of confetti—though that’s how he made me feel every single day. All the tough and complicated parts wouldn’t disappear. But it sure did feel easier confronting them together.
It was like soaring my bike off a jump—accepting the fear also meant welcoming the exhilaration. Rowan was my exhilaration. The person who made me feel weightless and dazzling.
And finally, finally free.
EPILOGUE
ROWAN
Two years later
We were playing the game—and I was definitely losing.
Both of us were laying across the hood of Charlie's truck, drowsy and relaxed under the heat of the shimmering Arizona sun. I kicked my bare feet against hers. She stroked her fingers lazily through my hair.
And our matching wedding rings glinted a shiny gold.
“What about this one?” I said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Try me.”
“Knock, knock.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Do I really have to—”
“Are we playing or what, Maddox?”
She traced her tongue across the front of her teeth and sized me up. “Who’s there?”
“A broken pencil.”
“A broken pencil who?”
I shrugged. “Never mind, it's pointless.”
Her lips twitched, but she stayed strong. “There’s been a lot of trash talk going around for someone who hasn't been able to get me to break once.”
I rolled onto my elbow, gazing down at my old friend, my formerly-fake girlfriend, and my very real wife. I traced a finger through her hair, along the shell of her ear, stroking. “You’re saying I haven't done anything on this honeymoon to make you smile?”
“I can’t recall,” she said airily, teasing me on purpose now.
I replaced my finger with my lips. “I knew my wife was a bad girl. I didn't know she was such a little liar.” Then I darted my tongue out to soothe the bite mark I’d left on the side of her throat, evidence of the passionate sex we'd had in the hotel shower this morning. She shivered and I grinned against her hair. “Are you reconsidering your position?”
She smacked her lips together into a firm line. Narrowed her eyes.
“What did the ocean say to the beach?”
“Hmmm, what?”
I winked. “Nothing, it just waved.”
Her expression was playful, lips quivering. “I could go all night, O’Callaghan.”
I clutched her waist and kissed her high on her neck, right below her ear—a ticklish spot that had her laughing not a second later. “Gotcha.”
“Oh my god, you cheated.” She pushed to sit up, blowing the hair off her face with a toothy smile. “Let the record show.”
“No one’s keeping score,” I teased.
“There’s no way two people as naturally competitive as we are aren’t keeping score,” she pointed out. “And I know that because since we first started this game at Jolene’s, I’ve won ninety-five percent of the time.”
My head fell back on a laugh. It felt nicer than I could say, lazily basking in the sunshine with the view of the Grand Canyon stretched out in front of us. We'd arrived for our honeymoon five days earlier—blissed out from our block party wedding—and had been engaged in some combination of hot sex and long hikes ever since.
We’d had 10th Street transformed for the reception, hiring a live band and dancing until midnight. All the neighbors were there, plus everyone from the rec center and most of Archer’s Angels, Charlie's racing team.
Dempsey had driven Malcolm and Penny in from Syracuse. Her dad tried, and failed, not to bawl his eyes out when he first saw Charlie in her wedding dress. Though, to be fair, there hadn’t been a dry eye during our ceremony, myself included.
Dean and Tabitha had both given speeches, of course. And Alice had been tickled pink to remind all of us—mostly me—how I’d sworn up and down that I’d never fall in love, when I knew Charlie was my soul mate all along.
After Charlie joined her new team, her career had never been better—she was winning nonstop while also being home more. It was a tricky balance, combining her travel with my work schedule, but we made it happen in all the ways we knew how. We were lucky—between her upbringing and my baseball career, we were experts at accepting that the long drives and random hotel rooms were all part of the gig.
The easy days we got through together. The challenging days we got through together too.
But for those six months when she was home in South Philly, in the row home we had made our own, she was teaching dirt bike lessons to kids and loving it.
I was loving it too, as much as I was loving the joyful chaos of leading the rec center. After saving Dean and Eddie’s jobs, and the food program, we’d been steadily and thoughtfully expanding. Reaching more people than ever, mostly with the help of the Wilkinsons.
Taking every chance we had to make our city better.
Best of all, after months of hard work, Charlie's dad had avoided eviction and kept his house. He even came down to help her teach the kids twice a month. And after, she always brought him around for family dinner at Alice’s house, where my grandmother treated him like a guest of honor.
I glanced over at Charlie’s pretty profile, her golden hair blowing in the gentle breeze.
She turned, our eyes meeting, and she leaned in for a kiss. “Hello, brand new husband.”
“Hello, brand new wife.”
She brushed her lips over mine. “I’m reconsidering my earlier position. You've made me smile a lot on this honeymoon.”
“Oh, I know, babe,” I murmured. “Even after all these years, it’s still cute. Watching you pretend you don’t love this game.”
“It’s only because I love you…cupcake.”
“Not as much as I love you—”
“Don’t say it—”
“Kitten.”
Now it was Charlie's turn to laugh, the sound growing as I tossed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest, placing loud, smacking kisses on the top of her head.
“Stubborn,” I said with a kiss. “Mischievous. Adorable. Cuddly.”
A man strolling past stopped in front of us, probably because of our happy commotion. Charlie sat up and held out her hand. “Oh, excuse me? We've been waiting for someone to come by to take our picture. Would you be able to do that for us?”
“Happy to,” he said. “What brings you to the Grand Canyon?”
I grabbed my phone and placed it in his hands. “Charlie and I recently got married, and we're on our honeymoon. And it just so happens that my parents had their picture taken, right at this spot, also on their honeymoon.”
Charlie slipped her hand into mine and squeezed gently.
I grinned at the man. “We figured we couldn’t come all this way and not get a picture, for my grandmother at least. She'll have it framed immediately.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?” the man said.
Charlie kissed my cheek. “I love you, Rowan. Will always love you.”
I cupped the back of her neck, remembering what my grandmother had said. That people were fools when they fell in love—and I understood it now. The devotion. The dedication. The goofy euphoria that flooded my body whenever she was near.
The way the sound of her laughter still made my heart race. Or that catching sight of her in a crowded room always stopped me in my tracks.
And maybe, just maybe, I cooked this goddess a lot of breakfasts on the weekends. In between making a whole lot of glitter signs.
“I love you too, Charlie,” I whispered. “And I always have.”
The man called, “Say cheese!”
We posed together and smiled, and when he handed us the camera to peek at the picture, I already knew what I would find. A happy couple on their honeymoon, leaning back on their car and far from the streets of South Philly.
This picture caught us with our hair blowing, our smiles delighted, the red rocks of the canyon behind us. It was an ordinary moment. It was a special moment.
