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“C’mon, Eric ... don’t be a party pooper.”
“That’s enough, Jude. I don’t want you to crack your skull.”
“One more time, OK? Just one more time.”
Eric looks very serious, but he gives in.
“OK, one more time, and then you get off, OK?”
“Fine.” But his jaw is tensing, and he’s obviously uncomfortable. “Hey, why are you so worried?”
“Because I need to know you’re all right and that nothing’s happened to you,” he says with a creased brow.
I start the engine again. I go into first, then ease out the clutch and slowly press the accelerator. The bike inches forward, and he follows on foot by my side.
“Eric!”
“Yes?”
“I just want you to know that the anguish you just felt doesn’t even begin to compare to what I’ve been feeling about you for two weeks. Now check this out!”
I go into second, gun the engine, and the bike takes off. I push into third, then fourth, and then I shoot like a rocket out to the racetrack. I see him in the rearview mirror, his mouth agape. I’m delighted to be driving a motorcycle again. I’ve always loved them, always loved the freedom they offer. As I turn on the Jerez racetrack’s curve, I think about him. I think about that worried look of his, and I’m very pleased with myself. I imagine him waiting at the boxes, alone and flustered. I speed up.
Finally, I exit the track and make my way to the boxes. I find him sitting on a step. When he sees me, he stands up. The Iceman has returned, but delighted to have made him suffer for a few minutes, I go right up to him before braking. Brusquely and without turning off the engine, I take off my helmet and give him a Charlie’s Angels look.
“C’mon, Iceman, did you really think that I, a mechanic’s daughter, wouldn’t know how to ride a motorcycle?”
Eric comes up to me. I think he’s going to tell me to go fuck myself, but instead, he puts his hands on my shoulders and gives me an impassioned kiss. I’m still on the bike, but I grab him back with equal fervor until I hear my father’s voice.
“I knew that was my little girl riding out on the track.”
I immediately pull away from Eric. I wink at him, which makes him smile, and I turn toward my dad.
“Papá, let me introduce you to my friend, Eric Zimmerman.”
My father smiles. He knows right away this is the man who has been in my thoughts. Eric steps up and confidently offers his hand. My father accepts it.
“So glad to meet you, Mr.Flores.”
“Call me Manuel, young man, or I’ll have to call you by that weird last name of yours.”
They both grin, and I can tell they like each other. Then Eric looks over at me but addresses my father. “Manuel, your daughter is a bit of a liar. She told me she didn’t know how to ride a motorcycle, and after she had me show her how to use the clutch, she shot out of here like a bullet.”
“You told him that? How could you be so shameless?” my father says in mock horror.
I nod, feeling naughty.
“Eric, my little girl was the Jerez motocross champion for several years, and she’s still winning prizes.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh.” I nod again, really enjoying myself.
Eric and my dad joke around for a while, and I join them. Right now, I’m with the two men I love the most in my life, and I’m very happy. In a bit, my father turns to us as he starts off.
“Follow me, kids.”
When I’m about to go after my father, Eric grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him.