Chapter 9

The birthday gift bag became important later.
I had dropped it when I saw Finn crash.
Inside was a small racing helmet I had custom ordered.
Blue stripe.
His initials.
F.S.
When Finn finally opened it, he stared at the letters.
Then asked:
“Do I have to race?”
My heart broke.
“No.”
“Ever?”
“Only if you want.”
He touched the helmet.
“Can Bunny wear it?”
Bunny was a stuffed bear twice too large for it.
“Absolutely.”
That was how the helmet spent the next week.
On a stuffed bear.
Not a child.
Evelyn would have called that weakness.
I called it healing.
An object meant for racing became something funny again.
No pressure.
No lesson.
May you like
Just play.
That mattered.