I returned to the party just as music time wrapped up.

"You missed Downfall karaoke," Mom said as I mixed myself an Old Fashioned at the outside bar.

"Who sang?" I asked, more for conversation than any real curiosity.

"One of the football players- I don't know his name. Big Hawaiian-looking guy?" mom said, holding out her wine glass for a pour.

"Steve K," I replied. "What song did he do?"

"It was one I didn't know- something about driving too fast," Mom said. "The only line I remember is something like, 'Get your thrills, but remember, speed kills'."

"That's off Day After Day, the third Downfall album," I told her.

Mom and I wandered over to the handrail to look out and down the canyon towards Hollywood proper. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, Mom asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm O.K., I guess," I said. "Busy. I have a lot of things going on, you know? Like now, I'm only going to have a week here at home before I have to go up to San Jose for work and a friend's graduation, then it's off to Florida to watch Maddie race, then New York to get our new office set up."

"Will Emmy go with you?"

"The New York part, yeah, but not San Jose or Florida. I'll be buried in work in San Jose and New York, but at least in Manhattan she'll have things to do while I'm at the new office," I said.

"How is she doing?" Mom asked gently.

"I think she's finally bouncing back. We both still really miss Angela, but Emmy is starting to talk about trying to get pregnant again."

"You two are going to do the same thing as before?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "We are. Hopefully the process will go easier on Emmy now that she knows it actually works. Last time was hard because there was no guarantee, you know? It was really miserable for her. This time we don't need to do the egg collection, so that's already an improvement."

"The lab still has frozen eggs?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure how many they have left, but they said it was enough for what we need."

"When do you think you'll start the process?" Mom asked.

"The plan is to do it in the fall, when things settle down. Emmy and the guys will be done with the album they're working on, Cecilia will be in school, and these big projects I'm working on will be over the hump."

"And your war?" Mom asked softly.

"It should be done by then, too," I confirmed. "Definitely by the new year."

"Hmm," was all replied. She'd said all she felt needed to be said on that subject, so rehashing it did nobody any good.

True to her word, Emmy really didn't have much to do as far as work on Jackson's album was concerned, so she was able to stay home much more of the time. She mostly slept in, then worked on her own music. I tried to be home early in the afternoons so we could spend time together, which was really nice. It's not as if we really did anything, but even being in the same room while we did our different work was enough. Sometimes quantity time matters as much as quality time does.

Emmy came with me to San Jose, even though I had two long days at the office scheduled, and then Ashley's graduation. At least we got to spend the evenings together, including a couple of nights at the club.

Emmy did enjoy our two nights at the speakeasy, and seemed to be in a good mood. A few of the regulars made a big deal about Emmy De Lascaux being there, but most took it in stride. I'd been hoping that James and Imogen would stop by, but we didn't see them either night.

Andrej and Lauren spent a couple of hours at our table on Saturday night, just being sociable. Andrej and I didn't talk about anything to do with security, or Night Children, or anything- just gossip about various Silicon Valley types and what they were up to. I overheard Emmy and Lauren talking about Morocco, and how much they both like the place. All in all, a good showing and nice to catch up.

Emmy could have gone back to Los Angeles on Sunday, but she opted to stay in San Jose until Tuesday night with me, for which I was grateful.She really had nothing to do during the day while I was at the office on Monday and then at the graduation ceremony on Tuesday, but she chose to be there so we could spend the nights in the same bed.

I sat with Becky and Rob Thompson at Ashley's Commencement, which was held in the football stadium. I'd skipped my own ceremony, so this was the first time seeing the process. Honestly, it was just a terribly boring way to spend a couple of hours roasting in the early afternoon sunshine, but it meant a lot to Ashley and also to her parents that I was there for her.

After the whole thing was over Becky, Rob and I met Ashley at a spot they'd pre-determined. Ashley's parents asked me if I wanted to go out and have a celebratory dinner with them, but I begged off, saying that I had to catch a flight that evening. I did make sure they understood that dinner at my steak house and drinks at the speakeasy were my treat, and they should order whatever they wanted, even though I wasn't going to be there.

Ashley drew me away from her parents to say goodbye. "So, this is it? I'm going back to Virginia and you're going back to LA, and we've never even consummated our love?"

"Ashley," I said, wrapping her in my arms for a hug. "This isn't it. We'll see each other again, and when we do, we still won't consummate any love," I told her.

"I'm gonna come up to visit you in New York," she promised, her voice muffled as she pressed it against my shoulder. "It's, like, four hours to New York on the train."

"That sounds like a plan," I agreed. "I'll let you know when I'll be there," I said, not mentioning that I'd be there in a week or so.

As We let go from hugging each other, Ashley stood on her tiptoes to give me a kiss, which I returned. It wasn't some sort of passionate, sexy kiss, to Ashley's credit. No, it was a 'You've been a good friend and I'll miss you' kiss, which was appropriate. Neither of us knew when we'd see each other again, but chances were good it wouldn't be soon.

"How was the ceremony?" Emmy asked when I got back to the condo.

"Long. Hot. Boring," I replied, happy to get out of the suit I'd been wearing and into something with a whole lot less material. "But it was nice, too. Ashley's parents were so proud of her- I mean, everybody's family was proud of their graduate, you know? Even if it was long and hot and boring, all those people were there to celebrate a milestone in their daughter's or son's life, and that made it special."

"Did it make you regret not attending your own Commencement?"

"No, not really," I replied. "After four years of Stanford, I was ready to move on. I didn't need that pomp and ceremony to commemorate the fact that I'd finished. By the end, it was just a matter of making sure all the boxes had been checked and the requirements satisfied so I could get that diploma."

"Sometimes pragmatism ignores feelings," Emmy said, a note of melancholy in her voice.

We only had a couple of days together in Los Angeles before it was time for me to fly to Orlando to go watch Madison race. Emmy passed on the opportunity to come along, using the excuse that the boys needed her in the studio. Really, we both knew she wasn't into the racing scene at all and would have found the whole thing crushingly boring, so I didn't press it. Sure, I'd miss her, but it was only for a few days until we'd rendezvous in Manhattan.

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The car rental people offered me an option for a Mustang GT350 instead of the BMW 530 I'd reserved, and I figured it'd be an interesting change. The car was a sort of mango orange with a black racing stripe- not exactly subtle, but then, neither were most of my cars back home.

It was just getting dark when I got to the track, so it took me a while to figure out where our team had their setup. The paddock wasn't actual garages as I'd expected, but instead a row of more-or-less permanent tensioned tent structures. A lot of the teams were busy working on their cars, but just as many were closed up for the night. Luckily I spotted Lainey, and she guided me to the correct tent. Our team banner was hung above the entry, but it was hard to spot in the dark.

"Hey, Reggie," I said to the team's crew chief.

"Leah!" he said, rising up out of his camp chair to greet me. "How was your flight?"

We spent a few minutes on pleasantries before we both sat down and he gave me a quick rundown of how practice had gone the last two days. Of course Madison had attended the driving school there at that track the year before, so she had a fair number of laps under her belt, which helped quite a bit. She'd been good right from the first session, making it into the top ten on timing by the end of the day on Thursday. For Friday's practice the team had worked on suspension settings that were soft enough to keep the fillings in Madison's teeth, but firm enough to not bottom out on turn 17's brutal bumps.

"I think we have it sorted out as best we can, but of course we'll make adjustments every time Mads goes out," Reggie said.

"How is she feeling?" I asked.

"Confident," I think," Reggie said. "Barber was really good for her emotionally. Sure, she didn't make top ten either race, but in the first race she was in a race-long battle with a couple of other cars and took the honors over both of them. She got a little bit out of shape in race two- she had to run into the grass to avoid a crash in front of her, but quickly made up for the time lost. I think that it showed her that keeping calm and focused on the task at hand pays off, you know?"

"What do you think her realistic chances are for a top ten this season?" I asked, sipping from a can of Coke one of the mechanics had handed me.

"Well, so here's the thing, right? The cars are basically equal. There was some noise about a protest at Barber, but I don't think it went anywhere. We're all on the same chassis, so it's all up to the teams to set the cars up right and the drivers to maximize the car's potential. As I see it, we're still at the start of our learning curve. We don't have the data the older teams have, and our driver doesn't know the car as intimately as some of these guys do. This means that a mid-pack finish as a solid result, right? Still, I think we can probably sneak in a good finish. I think our odds are best at Laguna Seca, since we've been doing a lot of testing there, but most- well, pretty much all, actually- of the other teams are based out here on the East Coast. That gives us a structural advantage to start with, and it's such a crazy track that it's going to throw a lot of these flatlander drivers for a loop."

I hung out with Reggie for an hour or so, then made my way to the hotel on the track's grounds. After a shower to wash off the Florida heat and humidity, I had dinner in the hotel's mediocre restaurant and then a long call with Emmy before falling asleep.

I was impressed with Madison the next morning. She was the picture of professionalism, keenly focused and completely uninterested in small talk, which I respected. Really, the only one who had any time to chat was Lainey, since the crew was just as single-minded. By the end of the qualifying session Madison had done quite well, placing twelfth on the grid. Fourth row may not sound that great, but it was better than twenty-four other drivers managed and boded well for her chances at a top ten finish.

Once qualifying was over Madison relaxed, letting the stress and strain of pushing her car to the limit drain from her body.

"Sorry I couldn't talk this morning," Madison said, peeling herself out of her Nomex racing suit, which she handed to one of the mechanics to hang on the dryer. It was already quite warm and was only going to get hotter for the race in the afternoon, but even though Madison's suit liner was soaked with sweat she didn't complain as she took a chair right in front of the big air-mover fan.

"No, Not a problem," I assured her. "You're here to do a job, not socialize."

"Yeah, but you're the team owner," Madison replied, accepting a Gatorade from Todd, the same mechanic that had set her suit to air out.

Just then a guy in his mid-thirties or so stuck his head in our pit. "Hey, Maddie! Way to kick it, kid!" he said, flashing her a thumbs-up. "P12! That's awesome!"

"Thanks, Guy!" Madison replied with a smile. "See you out there!"

Once the guy (apparently named Guy) left, Madison explained, "He drives number the number 72 car. Me and him had a great race last time at Barber."

"You're already making friends with the other drivers?" I asked, teasing.

"Not most of them," she replied. "Most of them are old- even older than Guy- and don't want to have anything to do with me."

"Their loss," I said with a shrug.

"I know, right?" Madison said with a smile, reminding me that she was still just a kid.

Race one was a bit of disappointment. Madison couldn't capitalize on her good starting position, eventually finishing in fifteenth. Of course that was still in the top half of the field, which I'd mentally set as a solid goal for the season, so I was happier about the results than Madison was. As for Reggie, he admitted (when Madison wasn't near) that he was happy as long as the car had no problems and came back in one piece. Anything after that was gravy, as far as he was concerned.

I made my excuses and left after the race, not sticking around the track. There was nothing really planned, anyhow. The big team dinner was going to happen on Sunday night, after the racing was over.

Three hours on the road would see me at Katrina's apartment by six thirty or so, more if I kept up a decent pace. I had no real idea how the Florida state troopers were about speeding, though, so I'd have to keep it somewhat reasonable.

Katrina and I went out to dinner at a Cuban restaurant in Little Havana. She explained that the places right on Calle Ocho were mostly for tourists, so if you want the kind of place the locals go you need to wander off the main street.

Our conversation was light enough, but there was a little bit of underlying tension that I didn't really understand until I dropped Katrina off back at her apartment. I gave her a kiss goodnight, which she returned, but then she gave me a puzzled look.

"You don't want to come in?" she asked.

"I have a long drive back to the racetrack," I told her.

"Oh- I thought you were maybe gonna stay," she said.

"Kat," I said, taking her hand. I wanted to tell her that our first time should be more special, but only managed, "That sounds really good, but I do have to be at the track first thing in the morning, and it is a three hour drive.'

"You mean you made a six hour round trip just to have dinner with me?"

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"Then you deserve a better kiss," she said, leaning forward again. Not one to pass up that invitation, I took her in my arms and we kissed again. This time there was a bit more heat to it, more like a promise of things yet to come than just goodnight.

Sunday morning's practice session was all-out suspension work, softening things up to suck up the track's brutal bumps even more. Madison had identified the track's terrible surface as a source of her problems in the Saturday race, so the decision was made to keep it really soft, and if hard bits hit the ground every now and then, so be it.

This turned out to be the right move when rain started dumping down about a third of the way through the race. About half the cars opted to pit to change to wet conditions tires, but the other half (including Madison) chose to stay out and deal with the suddenly slippery conditions. The rain dropped the pace down, which meant less downforce and less undercarriage damage from the bumps. It also meant that Madison was suddenly promoted into sixth place, so all she had to do was not lose a lap's worth of time and she'd finish solidly in the top ten.

The drivers who opted to pit to change to wets were making up lost ground, but they had a bunch of slower traffic to work through. It was soon obvious that the fastest of them wouldn't catch back up with the front runners, who only had to run out the remaining few laps to the checkered flag.

Thanks to a failed desperation pass with a lap to go the front three all had excursions into the grass, gifting Madison third place at the line.

Lainey was literally weeping tears of joy to see her daughter up on the box, showering in Champagne she wasn't old enough to drink. No, it wasn't a win, but for a rookie it might as well have been.

It might have been only four races into the season, but Madison had a strong points lead in the rookie of the year ranking. She'd finished all four races with no damage to the car's paintwork, no mechanicals of any kind, and when conditions got tough, she kept her cool and stayed steady.

I treated everybody to dinner in town that night at a place we'd been told was as good as dining gets in Sebring, Florida. It was decent, but far from exceptional. Still, everyone was in a fantastic mood and there were smiles all around. Everybody was thrilled with the weekend's results and looking forward to Montreal in four weeks.

Reggie gave a little speech about how proud he was of the entire team for rising to the occasion and racing like it's meant to be. He cautioned that Montreal in four weeks was going to be a challenge, since nobody on the team had ever even been to Montreal, much less seen the track. Since it was a road course there was no way to get in any private track time to learn it and get data, either, so everyone was going to have to be laser-focused from the very first practice session to the last checkered flag.

Lainey stood up when Reggie was done. She thanked each and every mechanic by name, thanked Reggie for running the show so smoothly, and thanked James and me for believing in Madison and helping her chase her dreams.

Seeing that it was my turn, I stood and congratulated Madison on the first of many professional race podiums to come, and congratulated the team for working hard and delivering the goods. I also thanked Lainey for encouraging her daughter to pursue a dream few girls would even consider.

Madison was beet red with embarrassment, but she stood up after I was done. "Thank you, everyone," she said, gazing around the table. "It feels like I'm dreaming. This is too good to be real." With that, she sat down. Lainey rubbed her back in encouragement and love, too proud of her daughter to be able to express it in words.

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