“Monterey Car Week is in August. This will be my second time covering it,” she says.

I ask for more details, and she gladly offers them and then some.

“It starts on Friday with the Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca and a classic car show in Downtown Monterey. Just imagine: over thirty classic race cars lining Alvarado Street. It’s incredible. On Saturday, it’s the Monterey Pre-Reunion where I get to photograph 300 race cars that will be competing before the Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion. On Tuesday, it all moves to Carmel for the Concours on the Avenue on Ocean Avenue. It all gets closed to traffic and filled with almost 200 cars on display in groups of juried classes. There’s luxury cars, muscle cars, hot rods, and sports cars.”

Celine would be so happy to be in my shoes right now and have this conversation.

“I have a friend who is a race car mechanic. Race cars and sports cars, I guess.”

“Is he based out of the Bay Area?”

“She. Her name is Celine. And yes, she is in the Bay Area,” I say.

“She? Even better. I know the organizers are always looking for good mechanics in the area, especially for Laguna Seca, but for other parts of the week as well. Is she any good?”

“She’s amazing. She’s Ethan’s sister by the way,” I say and give her the phone number.

“Ethan’s sister? Wow. I’ll call her for sure. This will score me points with the organizers. Last year Tomassini had problems with some cars, and all the good mechanics were booked.”

I have no idea who Tomassini is and, honestly, don’t care. All I care about is that Celine will finally be doing what she’s dreamed of for years if this works out. And if I get to play a small role in that, I’m happy. This is the least I can do to pay her back for everything she’s done for me since I arrived in California.

Eighty

It’s time for us to go back to the train and, from there, back to Carmel. I’m sorry this evening has ended. I wish it could’ve lasted longer. Of all the days we’ve spent together, I think this was my favorite, because we got to do a bit of everything, and I enjoyed it so much.

“I hope you had a good time,” Ethan says to me in the car.

“I did. Thank you.”

We drive in silence for a while. Even the driver is quiet.

“How are we on the hating part?”

“The what?” I ask.

“You hating me and all that? Have I scored any points today?”

He smiles, but it’s only a half-smile.

“Not that many,” I say. And I obviously mean it as a joke. Isn’t it clear I don’t hate him? I think I’m as far from hating him as anyone can possibly be.

“Too bad,” he says. “I’m running out of time.”

I have a knot in my throat. I didn’t want to think about this. Time. Our time together. The looming deadline. I’m not ready for it to be over. Not ready at all.