her. Sam ended the phone conversation without a goodbye, and forty minutes later he was banging on our door.
I’d just returned from my fourth trip to the back yard to try to convince the puppy it was much better to “do his duty” outside. He was having a little trouble with this concept, but he seemed to be an intelligent creature, and with time and patience, I was sure he would catch on. In the mean time, I mastered the fine art of keeping one eye on him at all times. I’ve even surprised myself at the speed with which I can cover the distance of fifteen feet — the maximum space I’ll allow him to get from me when he’s in the house. He followed me to the front door to greet our guest.
Sam sat on the edge of the sofa and flipped through pages of scribbles in his small notepad. “Okay. Start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened,” he said to Ronnie.
Ronnie sat with her feet tucked under her in the chair on the opposite side of the coffee table. “I don’t remember everything.”
“That’s okay. Just take your time,” Sam said.
“Well, one of our sponsors invited us on a yacht cruise down to Cabo.”
“Us?”
“Our team. Lance, that’s my brother, races on the NASCAR circuit. I was supposed to meet him and the other crewmembers at the San Pedro harbor to catch the boat,” Ronnie explained.
“When was that?” Sam asked.
Ronnie rubbed a bruise on her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. “We were supposed to leave Wednesday morning. What day is it today?”
I sat with the puppy in my lap and squinted to see the calendar tacked to the wall in the kitchen. I’d lost track of the days myself since returning from New Zealand. I’d lost a day on the flight over, but gained it back coming home. We actually arrived in Los Angeles before we left Auckland.
Sam checked his watch. “It’s Monday,” he said.
“Monday. Five days lost,” Ronnie whispered.
“So what happened at San Pedro?” Sam asked.
“When I arrived, no one from our team was there. I thought I’d just arrived too early, but when I asked around, it turned out I’d missed the boat.”
“They left without you?” I asked, surprised that her brother wouldn’t insist on knowing where she was before taking off without her.
“Yeah…well, not exactly. I never really said I’d go for sure. I figured it would turn into a typical party cruise the sponsors are famous for. They bring along more alcohol than fuel. I told Lance that if I decided to go, I’d meet him at the dock. He probably assumed I’d decided to stay home as usual.”
Sam scribbled in his notebook.
“Lance knows I’m not a party animal. I’d rather spend my free time working in the shop.”
“Shop? Doing what?” Sam asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should fill you in a little more. I’m the lead mechanic for my brother’s racing team. I’m the bes t engine man— or I gu ess I should say engine person— on the circuit.”
Sam stopped writing and raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
Ronnie sat up straight in her chair and raised her chin proudly. “Yes.” She noticed the look of doubt on Sam’s face. “You don’t think a woman can find her way around an engine?”
Sam raised his hands in self-defense. “I never said that. It’s just unexpected, that’s all.”
Ronnie smiled and smoothed her prickles. “Sorry. Most guys think I look more like a trophy girl than a mechanic. When they find out I have a Ph.D. in physics, they usually turn tail and run.”
This time, I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Physics? How’d you end up as a mechanic?” I asked. The puppy grew restless in my lap and insisted on getting down. I kept my ears tuned to Ronnie’s answer, but my eyes remained fixed on the four-legged toddler trotting around the living room.
Ronnie frowned and twisted a strand of curly red hair around her finger. “I actually
Jan (ILT) J. C.; Gerardi Greenburg