Survivor's Remorse

As the last few beats of The freaks come out at night ended, the pianist/boom box DJ reached into the bag of cassettes and after rooting around for a moment or two, during which time Kerri continued to dance even though there was no music, produced a tape that pleased her. She loaded the cassette into the boom box and rewound it for what seemed like ten minutes.

"This is a new one," she yelled. Just as the opening strains to George Clinton's Atomic Dog began to play, Keri started shaking the area that on a normal woman would be her ass and I knew it was time for me to go.

"It's been good seeing you again, Mr. Darling," I said.

"Oh... The wedding was so bad that I'm not your father in law anymore?" he laughed.

"Of course not sir," I said. Looking over his shoulder, I grabbed his arm. "We need to get out of here," I said.

"I thought we were already leaving," he said. His brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

"Don't say things like that. The DJ will start playing her Marvin Gaye cassette," I told him. "Look over your shoulder."

He turned and saw Rick heading our way with two paper cups of Kool ade. "I think he wants to bond with you so you can welcome him to the family," I said.

"Forgive me God," he said looking skyward. "Vee let's get the hell out of here."

"We're gonna have to run for it," I said. "It's not like we can melt into the crowd. For that to work there would have to be an actual crowd."

We beat feet and heard two voices calling after us. Strangely enough Rick was calling for Mr. Darling and Wendy was calling for me.

I spent Sunday getting ready for my big day. I went to the mall as soon as it opened. It took me a while. It wasn't like shopping for car parts, but in the end I think I made a good choice.

The rest of the day I practiced with the car. Racing is 50% car and 50% driver. On the day we met. I beat Saraya off the line three times in a row, while driving my frigging Jeep. Her car is much faster than the Jeep, so she was able to catch me each time, but I couldn't afford to make any mistakes. I needed to be able to launch that car like it was an extension of my body.

Even with my reflexes, I practiced for most of the day. Unlike in NASCAR or any other type of organized racing, I wouldn't have a chance to practice the course or to warm up my tires for a better grip.

When I got back to the house, I called Saraya. We stayed on the phone for over three hours. She kept offering to come over and I kept turning her down.

"Vee, I can't wait any longer," she said. "Wednesday you'll be back to work, but I can't make it that long."

"Okay how about Breakfast in the morning," I said.

"Where and when?" she asked.

"How about the Dunkin' Donuts that was the first place I ever saw you?" I said.

"Ohhhh, that's so romantic," she said. "It's perfect, Honey, and I have something to tell you. I think it'll make you happy."

"See you then," I said.

My next and last act of the day was a call to her father. I asked him for a favor and he was too eager to agree to help me.

The next morning I drove my jeep to the donut shop. When I got there Saraya's Camaro was already parked in the lot.

As I got out of the Jeep she screamed and ran over to me. Before I could say anything she was all over me. My carefully worded speech was lost on a tangle of arms legs and lips.

After a while she stood back and looked at me. "Those aren't vacation clothes," she said. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? You're coming back to work early? It's been a disaster without you there!"

"Things aren't going well?" I asked.

"Of course, things at work are fine. We're professionals. We did have a few things we need help on, but we put them aside for you. Now let's get some coffee. I have something very personal that we need to talk about, Honey. I've made a major life changing decision."

"Baby, can we talk about that later?" I asked. "We aren't here for coffee or donuts. I brought you here for a reason."

"Yes," she said excitedly.

"I want to race you," I said.

"But, Vee, Honey, I'm ..." she began.

"Right now, today," I continued.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked. "Vee you don't have to ..."

"Yes, I have to do ..." We were both cutting off each other's sentences.

"Saraya, don't even think about it," I said.

"Don't think about what, Honey?" she smiled and batted her eyes at me. I swear a halo appreared just over her head.

"If you try to let me win, we'll never be the same," I said. "You have to go at this the same way you race everyone else. Besides, I get three chances just like the other guys do, right?"

"No, Honey, I make the rules," she said. "You get to keep trying until you win."

"Are we going one stoplight or two?" She asked.

"We're going around the park," I said. "You wouldn't have a chance on a one stoplight race."

"Honey, the last time we tried this, I was so distracted by ..." she hesitated. "Vee, I loved you from the first second I saw you. Every time you looked at me when we stopped at a light, my heart fluttered and you got the jump on me. Besides, those weren't serious races; we were just two people who pulled up next to each other at a stop light.

I know your Jeep is pretty and it's got a Hemi, but you can't seriously think you'll beat me."

"See, you at the park, Baby," I said.

"So that's what makes you think you'll win," she whined. "No fair, Vee."

"What?" I asked innocently.

"You know when you say stuff like that, or call me Baby, I get weak in the knees," I can't be expected to drive well with things down there dripping," she pouted.

I took her in my arms and kissed her. Her tongue snaked out as usual. Every time we kissed, I felt like we would melt into each other and this time was no exception.

When we stopped, she stood there dazed for a few minutes.

As I got in the Jeep, she walked around and tried to open the passenger seat.

"Saraya, you're going to need your Camaro, if we're going to race," I said.

"Oh yeah," she said. "I almost forgot."

During the drive to the park, we made eye contact at every stop light. She ripped away from every light like it was a race. I knew that she was warming up her tires and practicing. It made me sure that she was taking the race seriously. I knew she would. As much as she hinted to letting me win, Saraya was a racer. Losing simply wasn't in her DNA.

When we got to the park I gestured for Saraya to keep going towards the picnic area. We pulled into the parking lot and her dad came out. I threw him the keys to my Jeep. Then I walked over and pulled the car cover off of my Mustang. Saraya's eyes lit up.

"You actually have a car," she said. Then she started crying. Her dad looked at me and anger flashed across his face. I was expecting him to fire me on the spot.

"What did you do?" he asked. The only time I've ever seen my baby cry was ... When her mom died. She didn't shed a single tear throughout her divorce from that asshole. So whatever ..."

Saraya shut him up by shaking her head. "Daddy, these are happy tears," she said. "This dummy loves me and I'm so happy that I can't stand it. It just came out as tears. I'm just overwhelmed."

"Huh?" her father looked puzzled.

"Daddy, Vee is like me," she began. "He used to race a lot. He was crazy about his Mustang. When he wrecked it in a freak accident with a drunken bus driver, everyone expected him to just buy another car. But he loved that car as much as I love my Maro. He couldn't just replace it. So he never bought another car. He just went into a depression.

"Oh," said her father. He was scratching his head and pretending he understood.

"Daddy, he loves me enough to go out and buy a car and modify it, even though he hates the thought of me racing. Except for you no one has ever loved me that much," she said.

"So why is he a dummy," her father asked.

"Guys we need to get this race over with," I interjected. "Pretty soon the sun will be fully up and the park will be full of runners and old ladies walking."

"Vee, Honey, just so you know," she said. "I eat Mustangs for lunch."

"They're probably all stock V6s," I said under my breath. "And the drivers are probably so busy looking at your butt that they forget to drive. And even then you only beat them by a cunt hair."

"What did you say?" she asked cheerfully.

"Nothing, Honey," I smiled. We both got into our cars. As we revved our engines I looked across at her and that's where we were when this story started.

Just as her father waved his arm for us to start she blew me a kiss and took off. The site of those cherry red lips puckered up at me distracted me and she got away first.

I stomped on the gas and through the magic of automatic transmissions and traction control, I caught her. Although Saraya thought she'd solved her launch problems, she'd only improved it. It wouldn't have made any difference. I knew all about Saraya's car. I knew about her corvette engine squeezed into the Camaro. I knew every mod she'd done to it. She talked about that car endlessly. So when I built my car, it was designed to take her car down. I was sneaky about it.

My car makes two horsepower more than hers does. Yep, I said two. I could have tuned it for more, but I wanted it to seem like a fair race on paper. But horsepower isn't everything.

The sub frame connectors we welded in give my car a much stiffer chassis. That means that it corners and handles much better. And since there were numerous twist and turns on the route through the park, I could probably have beaten her with even less horsepower.

The kicker though was the fact that I had made my car so much lighter. Straight from the factory, a Mustang weighs less than a Camaro. But I had increased that differential by removing every non-essential item in the car. My car has no radio. It has no AC. It has no backup camera and no GPS. It doesn't have a jack or a spare tire in the trunk either. Lower weight, higher horsepower, stiffer chassis, it all pointed towards victory.

I took the first corner right on Saraya's ass. I came out of the corner and steered wide to come even with her. On a long straightaway I began to pull away from her until we got to the point that she was now behind me.

The joy on our faces was evident. Saraya loved racing, and so did I. We were never going to be NASCAR drivers. After all Saraya is an office manager and I'm an engineer. But for us, tearing down deserted streets at a ridiculous rate of speed is the closest we come to heaven.

When I passed her, the smile melted a bit and she got the cutest, most determined look on her face. But I floored the pedal coming out of the next curve and put a ton of daylight between us. My pony shot forward like it had a rocket up its ass and the race was over. I crossed the finish line several car lengths ahead of her.

I got out of my car and she got out of hers. She had the biggest smile on her face, but it was tinged with a hint of sadness. Saraya, like me would never truly be happy losing.

"Okay, dummy, you won," she said. "You got your date. But this was just dumb. It was un-frigging necessary. I love you so much my heart could burst, Vee. I've been trying to tell you for a week that I figured it out. You don't like me racing. So I was going to give it up for you." She smiled at me and twirled around.

"I would do anything for you, dummy," she said. "Did you notice that as much as I thought about getting my hair cut, when you said you liked it long, I changed my mind?"

I took her in my arms and kissed her. "Baby, you're the one who got it wrong," I said. "Saraya, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. But you're ten times as pretty when you're driving fast. I have never wanted you to give up racing. I just don't like you racing for dates. It made me insanely jealous."

"Okay, Honey," she said. "But I think you have the wrong idea here. In forty or fifty races I've only lost three times. Today makes the forth. And you and I both know that the guys I raced wanted more than a date. They thought that the date would be a starting point and something else would develop from it. But it was never more than me meeting them at a restaurant and eating dinner. Then they would drive home in their car and I would drive home in mine. I'm not some loose woman, Vee. I've only been intimate with that idiot Stanley. But I hope that's about to change. Who knows what might happen after you and I go on our date?"

"Saraya, you got that wrong too," I said. "We never talked about the terms of the race. I was not racing for a date. Besides, no matter what you tell yourself, you and I have already been on a lot of dates. Every time we went out to eat together, it was a date. Every time we went out to buy office supplies and you held my hand while we walked up and down the aisles at Office Max was a date. Every early breakfast where we sat across your desk and stared at each other in that glass bubble you call an office was a date. The picnic, where you claimed in my ex wife's face that I was "YOURS," and kissed me so hard that it led to other people having sex ... What was it, Saraya?"

"It was a date," she said softly.

"All of our impromptu, two person, staff meetings in the broom closet in my office, they were dates, Saraya. It's time to take this up a notch," I said.

"Vee, it feels weird saying this in front of my Dad," she said. "But I was already planning on ... Uhm ... giving you something afterwards to sweeten our date ... If you know what I mean?"

"Not enough?" I said. I noticed that she was rubbing her legs together again. She was standing there the same way she had after our last closet session, where she'd had to lose her panties.

"Mr. Dallbinger, are you telling me ... In front of my father and our boss ... That I have to do something kinky with you ... Or maybe you're expecting me to go away for a weekend with you?" Her voice had switched into her teasing, little girl voice. Her father was shocked.

"Your mom always did that same voice when she wanted to get me to do something that she thought I wouldn't do," said her father. A tear rolled down his cheek and he started reaching into his pocket.

"Not enough, Ms. Whittaker!" I said sharply.

"Then exactly what do you want, Mr. Dallbinger?" she asked in that same little girl voice.

I dropped to one knee and her father placed the ring box into my outstretched hand. Saraya's hands were shaking so much that she dropped the box as she tried to take it.

She opened it and saw the ring. It wasn't an exact copy. But, it was as close as the jewelry store in the mall could come up with, on the spot, to her mother's engagement ring.

"Vee, are you asking me to marry you?" she screamed.

"Of course not," I said.

"Oh," she said. Her voice conveyed her disappointment.

"I just want you to wear this ring and move in with me. I want us to go in front of a minister in a church and take vows to be faithful to each other for the rest of our lives. I want to be your best friend and your ONLY lover. I'm big on that ONLY part. And you'll be my ONLY one too. I want us to fill the house up with grandkids for your dad to spoil and for us to spend the rest of our lives together. And when we get to the church, I'll expect you to take another ring from me that will tell everyone you meet that you are MINE. The same way you told Wendy that I was YOURS. That's all I want," I said.

"You expect me to do all of that because you won one race?" she asked. There were tears streaming down her face.

"Maybe it is a bit much," I said sadly. I started to pull the ring back. Her hand shot out, faster than a snake, grabbing the ring and putting it on her finger.

"I'll do it!" she shrieked. Get off your knees, dummy, you're gonna get grass stains on your pants and we do have a company to run Mr. Dallbinger."

"Uhm ... I have a company to run," said her Dad. "You two ... Really HE only runs part of it. But someday ... It will happen."

"Daddy, it's not HE, it's WE. We're a team. So let's talk about those raises ..."

* * * * * *

Epilogue

Vee

I skipped the part where they all lived happily ever after, because we all didn't

Saraya and I got married. We didn't call it married but that was what we did. We were very happy together and we lived out our lives exactly the way we planned. Several things didn't go the way we thought though. It seemed like Saraya was pregnant even before the wedding. Our son was born almost exactly nine months after the race. I've always sworn that he was a broom closet baby, but Saraya thinks it was that evening when we got home, or maybe our long lunch that day in a motel close to work.

We named our son Whittaker. Yep, he was one of those spoiled kids with two last names. His full name was Whittaker Steven Dallbinger. Steven is my father's name. Since her mother had only been able to bear one child, Saraya and I were sure that would be the case with her as well. We showered Whit with all the love and affection we could manage. His grandfather always got a gleam in his eye when he looked at him too.

"He looks just like I did as a baby," he often said. We all knew that since he wasn't Saraya's biological father that it was impossible, but if it made him happy...

Anyway the Whittaker solo act lasted for two years, and then he was joined by his sister, named for Saraya's mother. Another sister, named for my mother a year later and finally the twins two years after that.

"You guys can stop any time now," said her dad. When Whittaker was born her dad had begun making plans. He made me a partner and changed the name of the company to "Whittaker Dallbinger," my son will have some pretty big shoes to fill.

Saraya and I amassed an incredible amount of speeding tickets over the years until finally we bought our own little place in the country and built a track around it. Nowadays we race to see who does the chores around the house. I doesn't really matter who wins, we always do them together anyway.

As far as everyone else goes, a couple of days after the race, I started getting phone calls from both Wendy and Rick.

I took a call from Wendy to get her off of my back.

"Vee, I'm married," she said.

"Yeah Wendy, I know," I said. "I was at the wedding."

"You seemed to be upset when you left the wedding," she said. "Let's be honest here, Babe. You don't like the idea of me moving on and marrying someone else do you?"

Before I could answer her, she started again.

"My dad told me about your conversation," she said. "You know the part about how in your heart he would always be your father in law? We can make that happen, baby. I can be your wife again in a few days and baby; I can be back in your bed in fifteen minutes."

"What!" I said.

"I know a lawyer who can get me a quick annulment and all it will cost is a few dollars," she said. It was all I could do to stop Saraya who was in the bed next to me, from laughing.

"But what about Rick," I said. "He's your husband now. Won't he be upset?"

"I only married that asshole to bring out your jealousy," she said. "He has all kinds of financial problems we can get him to go along with it for a few more dollars. But he isn't important. I can be in bed with you in fifteen minutes, Vee. I'll leave right now."

"I'm not sure Saraya, would like that," I said.

"Fuck her," said Wendy. "I'll kick her ass again! Besides, what does she have to do with any of this?"

"It's funny you said that Wendy," I laughed.

"What's funny?" She asked angrily.

"Well you said, "Fuck her," and I just did."

"And he wore me out," said Saraya. "Now let's get to that part about YOU kicking MY ass."

Wendy hung up the phone.