(Dianne) Fox Writes

Just as Sully’d settled himself down on a creeper, Mack’s voice tore through the garage: “Sully! You got a phone call!”

Well, hell. Who’d be calling him here? Sully wrangled himself back up to his feet and headed for the phone. Mack handed it over, looking a little curious.

“Hey.” Sully really didn’t get calls from Denny at work. Ever. “Sorry for callin’ the office, but you got your cell turned off.”

Ah, hell. He’d turned it off when he’d been out on the track, talking to Jay Burgess and some of the other drivers. Sully dragged it out of his pocket; sure enough, there was the little screen that said he had two missed calls. “Sorry ’bout that. Everything okay?”

“Not really.” Denny didn’t sound jumpy like Sully expected, just tight. “Your dad called, Sully. Your mama took ill and they got her in the hospital. He says they don’t know how bad she is. He was hopin’ you might come out, so… it ain’t good. I already got a line on some plane tickets, but we gotta leave soon if we’re goin’. So you best come on.”

Soon as he realized what Denny was saying, the fear hit Sully right in the gut. His mama. “Yeah,” he managed. “I’ll tell the guys I gotta go. Just… I’ll be home soon as I can.” Sully felt like the whole damn world was moving in slow motion. He forgot to say good-bye to Denny, just hung up the phone and turned to Mack. “I gotta take off. Red done blown out his clutch; ’s gonna need fixin’ afore he can drive it again.”