Page 39 of Homecoming

“Wait a year or two then you’ll see,” I said softly, then turned and walked away.

It was time to go to Lola.

It was time to go home.

Chapter Ten

Lola

“Good to see you, Mr. Kendrick,” I heard Ian say to the old man as he hugged him.

We were back home. The home Ian had left long ago.

I wasn’t even sure if he had ever been back since then.

It was a Thursday, and the race weekend was set to begin tomorrow morning.

Things were still heated between Ian and Max, with the management now involved. Unfortunately, they firmly stood behind Max. It was expected of Ian to get on board and help Max.

Their reasoning was that they wanted the double crown at the end of the season, and have two of the best drivers on the circuit coming out of the championship.

Ian had no choice but to comply, and because of his dominance at the beginning this year, he had to take major hits so that Max could catch up.

They hadn’t said outright that they planned to sacrifice Ian’s goal of taking the third championship, but since Max was the owners' son, it was a possibility.

There was nothing to do except wait and see.

With that weighing on his mind, it was no wonder Ian was in a foul mood. But, as our plane had glided closer to the U.S., his mood alternated between concerned, desperate, and, by the time we got off the plane, borderline depressed.

“How many times do I have to tell you, boy? It’s Tim. Call me Tim,” Tim’s eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly at Ian, holding him at arm's length, and looking into his face with open affection. He looked like a proud father seeing his son, after months apart, pride pouring out of his every pore.

Ian took a step back and pulled me gently to his side, throwing his arm around me. He cleared his throat several times before he continued, “You remember my Lola, right?”

Tim Kendrick looked at me, and after a few beats, his face cleared, and, astonished, he whispered, “Little Lola Adams? Is that really you?”

“It’s me, Mr. Kendrick. How are you?” I extended my arm intent on shaking his, but he pulled me to him, hugging me. Ian’s arm fell away from my shoulders, but he kept contact with my body with his palm on my lower back.

I guess what he said was true. He needed someone to help him get through this visit. I was just happy that he found the strength that he was looking for in me.

As we were walking towards the exit of the airport, Ian pulled both our suitcases stacked one on top of the other, his other hand holding mine, Mr. Kenridck grasped Ian’s arm, stopping him. “There is something you should know.”

“What is it?” Ian asked, his whole body tensing.

“It’s not really your concern, but I think you should know,” Tim muttered looking down at his feet, obviously struggling with something.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

“It’s Jeremy, Ian.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but judging by how hard Ian’s hand gripped mine he did.

“Jeremy?” I asked, not even sure if it was my place to ask, but wanting whatever information I could get, so I could help Ian with whatever this was.

“Harrison,” Tim looked at me as he said the vaguely familiar last name.

“He’s not doing so well, he’s about to lose track. And I thought—” Tim’s words faded away as remorse saturated his expression.

“Anything he needs, he gets from me,” Ian’s words were curt, hard like steel. It wasn’t how he wanted it to be. In his mind, it was how it should be. It was the law.