If Cars Could Think 9

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Maybe I made the wrong choice, Casey thought. Jerry had left her in disappointed silence when he learned that she had given birth to triplets, and they were all Ford Transit Connects.

"They can't race," he had said to her. "What good will I be able to do for them?"

But it was never about that. Casey stared at the empty lot of the main facility around her. Her three newest daughters were asleep inside, with most of their other siblings. Her and Michael had sent Omaira off to the dealership. It had been bittersweet, but Michael had proven his loyalty and commitment to his daughter, even when he wasn't married to Casey anymore. Yet I can't expect any involvement from Jerry, my husband. And it's all because they weren't race cars!

As the end of summer drew nearer, Casey couldn't help but wonder if it would be the end of other things, too. There was a squirming in her fuel tank. Like the end of a marriage that was never supposed to be? One that I rushed into, all because I wanted to feel loved?

At the end of it, or what felt to be, she was left with eight kids who barely saw their dad, except when he forced the two Mustangs and the one Focus RS to watch his races. Of course, all three had already shown their desire to do what their father did one day, even though they didn't really know him the way they should. Does he do it on purpose? Does he only show them any sort of love or attention when they come to his races, just so they can begin to crave it? Why didn't she have the strength to just pull away from him?

"Couldn't sleep either, kiddo?"

Casey jumped when she saw George approaching from the front of the garages. "Where have you been?" she asked.

"I sit in the front sometimes, and just watch life go by," he explained. "I dwell on my past, and maybe I worry too much about my future."

What's that supposed to mean? "Well, I..." I can trust him. "I worry too, George."

"Of course you do," he said gently. "How old are you? Almost four? When I was your age, I was still young and dumb. Aaron used to call me 'wild child.' I never started worrying, until I got much older. Sometimes, I kind of miss when life was less serious, before Christian's accident, when Rose would pretend to hate me, and I didn't even care for awhile because I knew how she really felt." His headlights, finally two bright ones, dulled.

Our problems aren't really the same. He made the mistake of losing someone, and I made the mistake of marrying someone.

"What do you worry about, Casey?" George finally asked.

She sighed. He's trustworthy. "Sometimes I worry whether or not I made the right choices for myself. Or... or if I was even thinking about myself, at all."

"You have to think about yourself sometimes. You never do." Confusion made his headlights glimmer. "Sometimes, it's the right choice for your kids, too." He shifted his wheels, scraping them against the pavement.

He's judging me. He's totally judging me!

"I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it with complete honesty," George went on. "I won't tell nobody, not even your old man."

"Go on." She fought back the trembles that racked her wheels.

"Did you truly want every single one of those babies, or did he make you feel powerless, as if the decision weren't up to you?"

Casey felt choked. What if I let the truth slip out? But what if I never realized that was the truth? George's impatient gaze burned through her as waves of warmth rolled off his engine.

"I-I just wanted to make him happy," she sputtered. "And I don't regret any of the kids, now that they're here!"

"Of course not, honey." George tapped a big wheel against hers. "It's just... I was sitting out front, when Jerry left here, not too long ago. He didn't stay very long. And you just had triplets. He's got to take the time to get to know each of them... but he won't."

Casey's intake felt dry. He's always known more than he lets on. "Th-they can't race," she explained, "so he feels he's no use to them!"

"He's no use to them, or they're no use to him?" George's headlights flickered. "Because every kid needs a dad." He let out an annoyed snort. "You know, I used to think I was a bad guy, and I probably was, in a lot of ways. But I would never put in any less than my share when it came to caring for my kids, and you can ask Rose how hard I fought to be there for our daughter GG, even though Rose and I were split up. I think there's bad, and then there's worse. And when I say 'worse,' I mean disgustingly low."

I wish he wasn't right. I wish I didn't let Jerry's charm and friendly demeanor get to me. He really only thinks about himself! Would she have what it took to stand up to him, though?

"You do what feels right to you," George advised. "Stop caring who's going to judge you for it. If Jerry's not right for you, you need to leave him."

She knew it was true. She didn't agree with George that he was 'disgustingly low,' but he wasn't right for her, and he could probably make someone else happy. He needs to be with another muscle car, one who will want all her babies to race. One who will only be able to produce other muscle cars.

"If you're worried about your kids," George went on, "not having a father figure and all, just think: they've got an awesome grandfather, and there are lots of guys in the fleet who would show them more commitment and care than their own dad, myself included. Your kids can hang around me all they want, and I won't force them to participate in illegal street races. I may, however, teach them to spin donuts in the dirt."

Casey let herself giggle, feeling a sudden sense of relief. Nothing has happened yet, but I might just have the strength to finally make a change.