Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge) (43 page)

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
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Back in the state of constant rain, I hardly notice the steady rain with the steady stream of my own waterworks.

I found my truck quickly. After all, it was the only 1979 primer red Ford pickup in a lot full of Lexus and Mercedes. My poor little red dragon had been sitting here for three weeks. I was actually surprised she even started.

I turned on the radio, hoping music would relax me but it didn’t, because the first thing that came on was once again ESPN news. What was even more surprising and had me moments away from calling Jimi was their breaking news.

“This just in, after Jameson Riley reportedly destroyed his team hauler and personal motor coach in a fit of anger after this afternoon’s race, he didn’t stop at that. He was apparently arrested prior to getting on his private jet in California to return to his home town of Elma Washington.”

Say what?

“The charges haven’t been released but it’s rumored his was arrested for suspicion of sexual assault against a young woman, Chelsea Adams, former high school sweetheart of his.”

Immediately I called Emma, who answered on the first ring, more than likely waiting for my call.

“What the fuck happened since I left?” I shouted before she even had a chance to finish her greeting.

“Sway?”

“Yes it’s Sway.” I wasted no time throwing out the questions. “What happened? Why was he arrested?”

“He was arrested.” She stated in a soft voice, sounding frightened.

“For fucks sake Emma, I
know
he was arrested.” I shouted. “What’s the matter, what happened?”

Emma was quiet for a moment. “We don’t know what happened.” She sighed. “Chelsea and Jameson left the track together. None of us saw him for about three hours. When Ethan dropped him off at the jet, the police showed up and said he was under arrest for sexual assault. Jameson didn’t say anything to us but by the look on his face, I’m not sure what he did. I’ve never seen him like that, he wasn’t Jameson.”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Was he coming to Elma?’

“Yes.”

 

 

 

11.
              
    
Marbles

Jameson

Marbles – These are bits of rubber scrubbed off tires when cornering. These small balls collect on the outside of the turn, and if a car goes wide (into the marbles, or “the gray”, referring to the lighter appearance of an area covered with marbles), then grip is lost. In addition, this rubber debris will stick to the hot tires and cause poor traction for the next few corners until they are rubbed off the tire.

 

Over the years, my life had been shifting and now, I didn’t know who I was anymore unless I was with Sway.

      When your life is one long continuum of sleepless nights, exacting obligations, and frivolous women, veracity is something you cherish.

I had that with Sway, always had. That also wasn’t something I wanted to give up either.

That was until Charlie had me keep a secret for him, a secret that had the power to destroy all of us but more importantly, Sway.

 

“Jameson, it’s Charlie,”

“Uh
...
hey, Charlie,” I answered hesitantly knowing why he was calling.

He cleared his throat. “I’m not calling to lecture you about my daughter, though I should.”

“All right,”

Charlie thought my intentions were wrong and I thought his intentions were wrong. We didn’t see eye-to-eye most of the time.

“What I’m calling about is the negotiations for the track.”

I swallowed hard. I knew this was coming soon but I didn’t think it would be this soon.

“Oh
...
did Phillip draft the paperwork for you?”

“He did, thank you. Tate has the paperwork for you to sign since he was here last weekend.”

“All right
...
” I sighed. “How long?”

He gave his own deep sigh. “Six months
...
maybe less.” You couldn’t miss the sadness in his voice. He didn’t want this anymore than I did.

It felt like Mike Tyson punched me in the stomach as I slide back against the wall in the hauler, letting my head fall forward. “Does Sway have any idea?”

“No,” he answered immediately. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything. Tate said he let something slip last weekend. I’d like to tell her myself. She deserves that much.”

It pissed me off to no end that he hadn’t told her yet anyways. This is not something you keep from your only daughter who lost a mother at six years old.

“I understand.” I choked on the verge of tears. We may not see eye to eye but I still loved him.

“She’s coming home Monday, right?”

“Actually, her flight leaves tonight after the race. She wanted to be home before the Northern Sprint Tour and the Outlaws.”

“I appreciate that. I need her here with me.” He paused and I could tell he was choking up. “For a long time, I thought you were using her but I see it. I know you love my daughter. And I know how much she loves you.”

I was quiet. I didn’t know what to say.

“Jameson
...
are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just
...
I want to be there for her but I can’t.” I had so many obligations I couldn’t get out of.

“I know the feeling.” He agreed.

“When are you going to tell her?”

Maybe if he knew when, I could make a trip to see her and help her through it.

“I’m not sure yet
...
it’s not the type of news you just spring on someone the moment they walk through the door, you know.”

 

That conversation replayed in my head constantly.

The thought of Sway being without both her parents was literally making me sick. The thought of Sway being without me, was literally making me sick.

So the moment she walked inside the hauler prior to the race—I
literally
got sick.

First, I told her I love her, then, I told her we couldn’t be together, and now when she gets home, her dad is going to tell her he won’t be around much longer.

If that’s not fucked up—I don’t know what is.

Charlie was diagnosed with metastatic brain cancer a year ago. Sway was in college at the time, focusing on her getting her degree, which Charlie pushed because of his sickness. He wanted her to take over the day-to-day operations of the track when he was gone. I thought it selfish of him and he thought I was selfish for not providing Sway with the relationship she deserved.

A few months ago, I received a call from him stating that he wanted to meet with me and discuss some things. Worried something was wrong with Sway—I caught the next flight out and was in Elma later that night, where he told me he was dying. I freaked out, almost punched in the face for leaving Sway when he was the only family she had left, but then the anger subsided and the grief set in. I’d known Charlie since I was seven and over the years he’d become just as much of a father to me as Jimi was.

He’d continued treatments over the last year, all without Sway’s acknowledgment, but now the treatments had run out. The cancer that started in his brain—had now spread to the rest of his body.

Charlie had begged me not to tell Sway because he wanted to tell her himself. But how do you tell your only child you’re dying?

It’s not a conversation you bring up at the dinner table
...
and with Sway already losing her mother at such a young age to cancer as well, Charlie was having a hard time with it. So instead of dealing with reality and preparing her for the loss, he prepared her future, the future
he
wanted for her. As you can see, I was defensive and fairly grouchy when this topic was brought up.

But really, could you blame me?

When I flew out to see him in March, he asked that I take over ownership of Grays Harbor Raceway from him. Charlie knew he’d need to sell it. Sway wouldn’t be able to handle running the track and ownership all at once.

The plan was for me to take over ownership, Sway would run the day-to-day operations with the help of Mallory and Emily, with Mark Kelly continuing as the track facilitator. There were a handful at maintenance guys but other than that, there just wasn’t a lot of help around there. Not only that, but Charlie just didn’t have the financial capability to hire more. I did though. For everything he put into that track, he wanted and deserved it to be in capable hands.

I didn’t have time to deal with the operation of an entire raceway but I damn sure wasn’t about to let the track
and
the people who gave me my start down, so I agreed.

I was completely against Charlie insisting Sway take over the operation of the track but he was convinced this was what Sway wanted. Part of me blamed him for the reason why I couldn’t be with Sway. Instead of thinking of his daughter’s happiness, or my happiness, he came up with the plan for her.

The only other person who knew Charlie was sick was Mark Kelly and my attorney Phillip Clemons. Tate and others noticed how sick he was but Sway didn’t.

Sway was obtuse to a lot of things in this world. She was just like her mother at times but that was Sway, crazy irrational caprice natured Sway, that I was madly in love with. I hardly recognized myself without her. I was so confused for so long, wondering what was real in the life I was living; that I never looked at was right in front of me, until she left Daytona in February.

She was there when my career began and I had no doubt in my mind Sway would be there when it ended. I had chosen this profession to follow my dreams and exchange it felt as though I was sacrificing my sanity to do so, not to mention my personal life—I had no personal life. And the personal life I wanted, I couldn’t have, or at least I thought I couldn’t have.

I don’t know when my relationship with Sway went from platonic to something more but to this day, I could vividly remember the numbness I felt when she was no longer there every day and the emptiness I felt. When I met Sway, how could I have known that years later our lives would be intertwined to the point of codependency?

Codependency is a strong word when you think about it. Normally I’d associated it with some sort of chemical dependency and really, that’s
exactly
what Sway was to me. I felt the same blissful high when she was around and the wretched withdrawal when she wasn’t.

When Charlie insisted that she go back to college and become an adult as he put it, I saw how much it hurt her to leave but she did it anyways because he asked her to. Knowing why she did it, how would it be okay for me to do the same and ask her to stay? Selfish right?

BOOK: Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)
12.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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