Andy nudged me with his elbow. "There he is," he said, nodding back toward the track.
Danny was making his way through the pit lane with his trophy in one hand and his helmet tucked under his arm. He was walking slowly and nodding at people who called out to congratulate him, shaking hands and slapping backs, taking his sweet time because he'd earned the right to enjoy it.
When he finally reached the hauler, he set the trophy on the tailgate and grabbed a beer from the cooler and cracked it open. "Second place," he said and held up the can.
Andy and I raised ours and we clinked aluminum. "Second place."
"Next time, it's first," Danny said. "I had him on the last straightaway, Sara. I had him and my rear tire broke loose in the gravel section. If I'd had another hundred yards, I would've taken him."
"You would've," I agreed, because I'd watched it happen from the pit wall and he was right. "We'll adjust the tire pressure for the next round and give you more grip in the loose stuff."
"That's why you're the best crew chief in the circuit." Danny winked at me the way Dad always did when he wanted to boost my ego a little. It was strange how much he looked like Dad, sort of the way Kip looked like his father.
"I'm the only crew chief in the circuit who doesn't charge you double for being difficult." I rolled my eyes at both of them and we had a good laugh, and five minutes later, the croon of my best friend snaked its way through the chaos to find me.
"Where's my favorite racing team?" she called as she came around the back of the trailer with Kip on her hip, and my heart swelled the way it always did when I saw my son.
He had a sticky red face and a bright smile, and his hair stuck up at odd angles because he refused to let me style his hair this morning before the race.
"Mama!" He reached for me with both arms, and I took him from Tiffany and settled him against my chest. He was getting heavy and so grown up now, talking like a little adult because there were no other kids around and I refused to let anyone baby talk with him.
"Hey, baby. Did you have fun with Tiffany?" Though her parents kept him while the race was happening, Tiffany was my go-tositter for every race day. I always had too much on my plate to chase after Kip too.
"We got ice cream."
"You did? What kind?" I glanced at her, and she smiled sheepishly because she knew I would never let him have that much sugar without eating dinner first.
"Brown."
"Chocolate," Tiffany translated. "He ate the whole cone and then asked for another one. I said no because I value my life and I knew you'd kill me." My brothers chuckled while I lifted an eyebrow in accusation.
"You made the right call." I kissed the top of Kip's head, and he squirmed and wiggled until I set him on his feet and he immediately ran to Danny, who scooped him up and sat him on the seat of his dirtbike. Kip grabbed the handlebars with both hands and made engine noises with his mouth while Danny held him steady. He had to stretch over the fuel tank until he was basically lying down.
"Look at this kid," Andy said. "He's a natural."
"He's three," I said.
"So was Danny when Dad put him on his first bike. It's in the blood, Sara."
Danny pulled his helmet out and set it on Kip's head. It was comically oversized and dropped down past his eyes, and Kip pushed it up with both hands and grinned so wide, I could see every one of his tiny teeth.
Andy pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, and then Tiffany insisted on getting a group photo of all of us around the bike. Danny held Kip on the seat while Andy and I flanked them on either side, and Tiffany backed up and counted to three and took the shot.
"That's a good one," she said, turning the phone around to show us. "That's going on the fridge."
I looked at the photo and saw my family, smaller than it used to be and shaped differently than I'd imagined, but whole.
Then Danny got a second round of beers and raised his can again. "To the team. Best crew, best brothers, best kid in the whole damn circuit."
"To the team," we echoed, and Kip clapped his hands because he thought we were clapping for him.
I was watching Andy chase Kip around the trailer in a slow-motion game of tag when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and saw Mom's name on the screen and smiled. She always called after race days to hear how the boys did, and I figured this was her checking in.
"Hey, Mom. You're going to be so proud. Danny got second and Andy?—"
"Sara," she said, and it stopped me cold. She sounded scared and emotional.
"Mom? What is it?"
