Mother, Please! by Brenda Novak, Alison Kent, Jill Shalvis Read Free Book Online Page A

probably a good decision.”
    “What did your father do?” Tom asked.
    Gunner took a sip of his margarita. “I’ve heard he was a truck driver, but he’s done a lot of things during his life, so I’m not really sure. My parents separated when I was only two, and my dad didn’t bother coming around much until I hit my teens.”
    April watched her mother throw a surreptitiousglance at Walt, who was sitting across from her. He happened to meet her eyes, then they both looked hurriedly away. “Do you have contact with him now?” Claire asked Gunner.
    Gunner shrugged. “He calls occasionally.”
    “Where does he live?” Walt asked.
    “He’s still in New York.”
    Christie, Wayne’s wife, set her fork down, leaned away from the table and folded her arms. “Is that where your mother is, too?”
    Wayne cleared his throat and answered before Gunner could. “Gunner’s mother passed away over a year ago, honey,” he said gently.
    “Oh.” She blushed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stevens. I hadn’t heard.”
    “Don’t be sorry.” Gunner smiled and Christie relaxed visibly. But April could tell they’d touched upon a difficult subject and that Gunner was only being courteous in appearing to shrug it off.
    Walt must have sensed the same tension in Gunner because he seemed eager to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Sounds like you come from pretty humble beginnings.”
    Gunner cut off another bite of steak. “We were definitely poor, but my mother was an incredible woman. She made sure she provided everything we needed, even though my father didn’t help out much.”
    “Racing takes a lot of money,” Walt said. “Considering your circumstances, how did you get into the sport?”
    Too full to eat any more but intrigued by the conversation, April pushed the rice around on her place and listened.
    “My grandfather on my mother’s side sponsored me until I had enough wins under my belt to attract corporate support.”
    “I’ll bet you could buy yourself half a dozen cars then,” Christie said, obviously trying to make up for her earlier gaffe.
    “Not for a while,” Gunner said. “Most of the money I earned went to help with rent and the other household bills.”
    April pulled Gunner’s jacket more tightly around her. He’d stated it so matter-of-factly she got the impression he thought nothing of giving his mother his earnings. “That was nice of you,” she said.
    “We all contributed what we could,” he replied.
    Wayne accepted a refill of his margarita. “You won early on, if I remember correctly. How old were you when you started racing?”
    “I raced quarter midgets at nine.”
    Tom whistled. “Jeez, that’s young.”
    “Not really. A lot of kids start that young.”
    “Did you go into racing full-time right out of high school?” Claire asked.
    “He first got a Bachelor of Science in Vehicle Structure Engineering from Purdue,” Wayne said, then smiled when everyone looked surprised that he’d know this information. “I’m a big fan.”
    “So am I,” her father said. “You had quite a career, Gunner. I was checking your stats on a fan Web site the other day. Said you’ve won over fifty-four million dollars. And your last year was your biggest ever, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    A muscle in Gunner’s cheek twitched and his smile seemed strained—signs that he wasn’t enjoying himself. But April couldn’t imagine why. They weren’t talking about his mother anymore. The conversation had veered toward his impressive racing career.
    Wayne and her father asked him several more questions about racing, which he answered as succinctly as possible, and April finally stepped in.
    “I think Gunner’s probably tired,” she said. “We should let him finish his dessert so he can head up to bed. He’s been on a plane all day and must be feeling some jet lag.”
    Gunner put down his napkin, even though he was only half finished with his flan. “Actually, I was hoping I could talk