She might have thought about looking in Danny’s wallet for the receipt from the bottle shop but it only took her mind a few seconds to tell her that she had nothing to worry about. There was no way Danny headed to the shower in the same state as he had some many times before when he didn’t think she knew he’d been drinking in the car. He wasn’t scuffing his feet lazily across the floor like he did when he was drunk, or on the way to drunk. But above all else the smell of beer was absent, something that could not be hidden easily no matter what methods were tried.

When Danny returned from the shower Tracey was standing at the sink rinsing some vegetables with her back to the door way Danny was walking through. Before he announced himself and before Tracey turned around Danny looked over at the bench where he’d left his wallet. During his shower he thought, a number of times, that he trusted her enough not to look in his wallet for the receipt that would prove his innocence but when he stepped through the door his mind seemed to forget that trust, just like it had before he left the room.

Although it didn’t appear like his wallet had been laid where it rest in any sort of strategic manner it had been. The small key on his keyring, the key for the small garden shed out behind the garage, was resting in the fold of the wallet. It wasn’t a masterful move but it was the sort of move that Danny’s pre shower mind considered enough to prove if his wife had touched his wallet.

When he saw that the key was still where he’d left it rest Danny was relieved and he immediately opened up a path for conversation.

“Well that certainly feels better. I swear, I must be getting old, this racing stuff is taking longer to recover from every weekend.”

Danny knew he didn’t have that many years left of racing, it was inevitable and something he’d been coming to terms with for a few years. It only took a season or two of not performing at his peak level, a few seasons where podium finishes became less and of course his age creeping towards that magical unspoken about figure that arrives some time after forty and his days on the track would be no more.

The only thing worse than having any of those things force him out of racing was to be forced out due to injury or his body not being able to take the constant pounding it got after a weekend of racing. Even without having any sort of collision the drivers in Danny’s competition needed their bodies to be able to withstand forces of up to “eight G”, it might only happen for a few seconds under breaking, or the worst case scenario of hitting a wall, but it could happen and if their bodies weren’t able to take such a pounding they were no good as racing drivers. As Danny got older his body was sustaining the hits and G Force but it was taking him longer and longer to recover from the pain after it happened.

“We’re all getting old honey,” Tracey said as she turned from the sink and placed some potatoes on the bench. Then as she reached towards the edge of the microwave where the chopping board stood she added. “And there is more than a few young guys out there that can’t drive as hard as you and recover as quickly.”

“I wish I could believe you.” Danny said with a smile, “But I can feel my body disagreeing with you.”

“Maybe after dinner you’d like a massage?” Tracey said as she ratted through the second drawer looking for a potato peeler.

Danny knew just how good Tracey’s fingers were, she was nearly better at soft tissue massage than the team physiotherapist, he also knew that while she might not be able to reveal every ache and pain she would go a long way to making his tired muscles stop groaning so loudly. However he wasn’t entire sure he was ready for Tracey to get that up close and personal. Of course a massage didn’t need to lead to sex but so often before their problems it did, and that thought was in Danny’s mind as soon as Tracey made the offer.

“We’ll see what happens after dinner.” It was short, sharp and to the point and as soon as Danny started talking his mind wandered back to how his hand gently caressed Tracey’s hand in bed the very morning. It wasn’t a guilty thought but that didn’t stop him wanted to divert his mind from the thought. After a few moments of silence he then added, “What would you like me to do for dinner?”

“How would you like to open the wine?” Tracey replied.

“No worries. I’m still not exactly sure what wine I bought, the girl at the shop recommended it to me but even she admitted the recommending me a wine when I couldn’t tell her what we were having was a difficult task.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, if not we can always turn to the beer or orange juice.” Tracey said with a smile.

Danny retrieved two wine glasses from the crystal cabinet in the dinning room and made his way back to the fridge to get the wine. It took him a few minutes to find the corkscrew in the second drawer where it seemed everything could hide when you wanted it but within a few minutes he was pouring white wine into two glasses.

Previous Racing Story here.