In the Groove (24 page)

EPILOGUE

It was a sparkling winter day in Manhattan, one of those rare days when blue sky could be seen between the uneven tops of skyscrapers. But Lance didn't notice—he was too busy pacing until he wore a path in the red carpet between the living area and the bedroom. He checked his watch, anxious because Cece and Becca had promised to have Sarah back in plenty of time to get downstairs before the awards ceremony started. And while he knew "dolling someone up" could take time, in his opinion, Sarah didn't need any dolling.

He went back to the bedroom and paused before the tall window, only to hear the click of the door that sent him spinning on his heels and going back to the main room.

Cece came in first, elegant as always in a sparkly off-white gown, a huge smile spreading across her face when she caught sight of him. Becca came next, shooting into the room like a car on nitrous oxide, making motions with her hands for him to stay put. She, too, smiled.

"Close your eyes," she said.

What had they done?

He closed his eyes as instructed, thinking to himself how nice it was to see Rebecca Newman smiling again.

"Don't peek," Cece warned in a singsong voice.

"I won't," Lance said. "But you guys better hurry. We're going to be late."

He heard dresses rustling, heard a couple of girlish giggles, then more rustling.

"Okay. Open," Cece called out

A vision stood before him.

"Well?" she asked as the door closed behind her. Cece and Becca had left them alone.

"You look..." He tried to put it into words, eyeing the strapless gown with gauzy swishes of green netting that crisscrossed over her breasts and wrapped around her back. They'd swept her hair atop her head, her shoulders, usually so pale, a sun-bronzed brown that combined with the strands of red in her brown hair, made her look... "Breathtaking."

"Really?" she asked, her smile suddenly so bright, he couldn't help but smile back. "I wasn't sure about the dress." She glanced down at the floor-length gown that was such a perfect color of green, it made her eyes look like jade. "Cece said it makes my boobs look bigger—"

"It does," he said. "But you didn't need any help there." To hell with it. He wanted to touch her and so he did, his palm cupping her jaw, tipping her face up. "You look perfect. You
are
perfect."

"I just know how much tonight means to you."

He lowered his face toward hers, making sure she looked him in the eyes. "It would mean
nothing
if you weren't here by my side."

He watched as her eyes softened.

"I love you," he said, pulling her to him, thankful that she was here, in his arms. And that he hadn't lost her all those months ago. That she'd fought off the psycho ex who'd tried to rape her—and handily, too. At least he was no longer a threat. They'd found so many back door access codes on his computer that the Feds would be able to put him away for a very long time.

"What's this?" Sarah asking, bringing him back to the present. Her hand went to his breast pocket

Oh, damn.

"Lance Cooper," she said, drawing back. "What the heck do you have in your pocket?"

He reached inside, pulling out the bedraggled and opaque plastic bag.

"It's the cookie," he said.

Her mouth dropped open, her eyes snapping up to meet his. "You still have that thing?"

"Of course I do. It's special."

And then her eyes must have caught the flash of red inside the bag. "What's that?" she asked.

"Nothing," he lied, folding up the bag and trying to put it back in his pocket before she became even more curious.

"Don't tell me that's nothing," she said, snatching the thing back from him. "It looks like—"

A velvet pouch.

Sarah felt her whole body still, felt her heart stumble against the wall of her chest, only to resume beating at a furious rate.

It was a velvet bag and inside she could just feel the contours of—

She looked up at Lance.

He'd taken the bag back from her suddenly numb fingers, opening it up and fishing in the crumbs to pull out the tiny jewelry bag inside. "I thought it was somehow appropriate to keep it here. Your cookie dust is pretty potent, and since I'm short on fairy dust, I thought this would do in a pinch."

Finely ground particles filled the air as he pulled the bag open, a ring spilling into his fingers, a flawless diamond set in platinum, the band molded to look like—Sarah leaned closer—like animals: a bear, a little elephant, a prancing horse.

She started to cry.

"I don't know how to bake cookies," he said, "but I do know how to draw. The hard part was finding a jeweler to take on the task of making them look like animal cookies."

"Oh, Lance," she said in a whisper, pressing a hand to her chest.

"Okay," he said, leaning back. "Let's see if I can do this right."

He got down on one knee. Sarah's hands moved to her cheeks.

"Sarah Tingle," he said, looking up at her, his blue eyes so steady Sarah couldn't look away. "Will you marry me?"

Yes.

The word nearly spilled out, but something stopped her, something made her straighten up, pretend to have to consider. "Well, I don't know," she said. "I'm not really sure I want to be the Mrs. Fields of the racing community. I mean, cookies every week until we're old and gray is an awful lot to ask."

"How about if you break it up every now and then with cupcakes?"

"Cupcakes? Are you kidding? Cupcakes are way less potent than cookies."

"Well then, what do you suggest?" he asked.

"I suggest you put that ring on my finger before I change my mind about this whole deal."

Which made him smile and chuckle. Some of his laughter faded, however, as he slipped the ring on her finger.

"Will you marry me?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she whispered, tears coming to her eyes, tears that she knew would ruin her makeup, but that didn't matter. "Yes," she said again, sliding into his arms. "Oh, yes."

"Good, 'cause I'm never going to let you slip away again."

Her smiled faded a bit, too. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I've learned my lesson."

"And what lesson is that?"

"That sometimes you have to risk it all in order to have everything."

"And do we have everything?"

"Yes," she said. "We have each other."

And they did, and they always would, along with one slightly strange housekeeper, several really good friends and one very different mother.

But they wouldn't have it any other way.

I
Tip My Hat

By Rick Stevenson, Sports Editor

Many of my normal readers might be surprised to learn this column isn't going to be about racing. It's not going to be about Lance Cooper, either, and how he won the year-end championship in what has to be the greatest comeback story of the year. It's not going to be about how a team came together and created magic, won three of the last ten races and then led a chase for the championship that was truly memorable. This column is going to be about something different.

It's going to be about love.

I'll admit that might seem like an odd topic for a veteran sports reporter, a reporter who's covered racing through its ups and downs, its controversies and its commercialism. But this grizzled newsman shed more than a few tears at a recent wedding and, well, I feel compelled to write about it.

On December 10th Lance Cooper tied the knot with his girlfriend, Sarah Tingle. Those of us in the racing world watched as Lance met, courted and eventually wooed the spunky kindergarten teacher from California, a woman who didn't know a thing about stock car racing until meeting Lance. We all watched as little by little, she helped Lance Cooper overcome the worst slump of his career. We all watched as she taught him that it's not about the fame, it's not about the glory, it's about loving what you do for a living.

So this column is dedicated to Lance and Sarah Cooper. May your love be a shining example to others involved in our sport.

By the way, those were pretty darn good wedding cookies.