Hot Laps (31 page)

“Why don’t you just leave it and we’ll come back for it later.”

He almost went for it but then we saw a car coming. “Just our luck, pretty girl.”

An older woman in a beat-up late 80’s Ford truck stopped. More than likely because
of Casten in his underwear standing alongside the road carrying a deflated air mattress.

Then she saw me, limping, wearing nothing but my bra and underwear and a pit pass
bracelet from the night before.

Anybody in his or her right mind would have kept on driving. Just two minutes into
the drive we quickly realized she was crazy. Let’s go ahead and overlook the fact
that she had two English bull dogs in there with us and Casten, well, he wasn’t a
snake man nor was he a dog man. In all actuality, I’d discovered that just like his
dad, he didn’t care for animals at all.

So what did he do when we got in the truck and both her bull dogs befriended him and
decided to take up residence on Casten’s lap?

He pushed them off and onto my lap.

“What the fuck? I’m allergic,” I whispered trying not to let this woman with smoker’s
breath and snake skin hear me.

“They’re trying to suck the water out of my underwear.” He pointed out, as if this
meant anything to me. He said this as if it was some kind of torture chamber where
he was forced to eat spinach. Which he told me last night would have been worse than
having his eyes ripped out.

I gestured to the dogs licking my chest, particularly my nipples because they were
in fact trying to suck the water from it. “And this is better?”

Casten was looking ahead, avoiding any interaction with me or the woman, when he finally
looked over to see the dogs trying to breastfeed. I thought for sure he was going
to say something dirty, or even inappropriate, but he surprised me and reached for
the dogs putting them back on his lap without saying anything.

His scowl said a lot. He wasn’t pleased and didn’t see the humor in this situation.

The sun was beating down on my already burnt legs and made the smell of dog piss and
dog in general rather revolting.

Dog hair was literally floating in the air around us.

When I noticed, I started sneezing.

That’s about the time the woman decided to talk to us. “Where you kids from?”

She swerved to miss what looked to be a dead animal in the road. One of the dogs in
Casten’s lap slipped off and clawed the shit out of his legs trying to get back.

He gritted against the pain. “We’re from Mooresville.”

“What brought you out here then?”

“Racing.”

“Oh, yeah? Me, too.”

“Yeah.” Casten smiled at her. I turned and looked out the window and tried to roll
it down. It wouldn’t budge.

“I love watching them at Devil’s Bowl. Especially the Outlaws.”

Casten nodded, not seeming all that interested in sparking a conversation with her,
but still, being polite.

“So you’re here to watch the Outlaws?” She kept looking at him and me out of the corner
of her eye.

Casten hesitated, measuring her for a moment. “Yes.”

That’s when the dog on Casten’s chest farted. Loudly.

He leaned into my bare shoulder. “I don’t understand why these little fuckers couldn’t
have ridden in the back.”

All was quiet, aside from mine and Casten’s gagging. I tried to roll down the window
but the knob broke in my hand about the time this woman swerved past a dead animal
that was in the other lane. She had no reason to swerve.

Then, without warning, she slammed on her brakes and the smaller dog that was clinging
helplessly to Casten’s legs hit the dashboard like a crash test dummy.

“Oh, Jesus.” Casten reached for the dog rubbing the side of its head. For not being
a dog person, he seemed rather attentive.

We weren’t wearing seatbelts either. I doubted this piece of shit even had them. Naturally,
when she swerved, I smacked against the dash.

The woman looked at the dog then, and rubbed the same place on his head Casten had
just rubbed. “Sorry, Riley.” Then she paused, touching the other dog’s head. “Jameson,
scoot over so your brother has room.”

Taking both hands off the wheel, she grabbed the dog on Casten’s chest and moved him
so he was practically on Casten’s shoulders. Then patted his bare thigh for the other
dog to climb back up.

Did I mention she was patting his upper thigh?

Casten smiled, holding back laughter. At that point, I wasn’t sure what was so funny
to him.

What was also interesting was the dog’s names. That didn’t seem to go unnoticed by
Casten and maybe that’s why he was smiling.

While the dog wouldn’t get back up on Casten’s lap, I assumed he might have had some
brain damage because he just kind of looked at her. Adjusting the wheel and trying
to drive with her knees, she picked the dog up and put him back on Casten’s lap as
if sitting on the floor wasn’t acceptable for a dog. When she did her second swipe
of his lap she grabbed his junk.

His eyes went wide but laughed.

“Easy there,” Casten said, playing it off with more laughter.

The woman then righted the truck on the pavement as we were heading straight for a
tree. For the fourth time in our ten minute tortured truck ride my head slammed against
the window.

Nobody rubbed my forehead.

“Those are some interesting names for dogs,” he said, keeping the laughter from his
voice, with a steady calmness. “You a fan of Rowdy Riley?”

Casten looked at me, I was still sneezing, and then back to the woman. She finally
kept both hands on the wheel but offered a shrug of her snakeskin shoulders.

I wasn’t sure what was happening and I was just about to say something when Casten
elbowed my ribs indicating, in a rather asshole way, to keep quiet.

“Oh, yeah,” the woman went onto say. “I actually went to high school with him. We
dated,” she remarked, sounding excited as her voice raised. “We dated for years before
he was a huge star. Back when he was racing his first season in Cup.”

“You dated?” Casten asked, his mouth quirked with humor. “Wow. Fancy.”

“Yeah, he was a great guy. We dated for years and I’m still such a big fan of his.
I’ve tried to meet him since but it never works out.”

I knew a little about Jameson and Sway and their legendary love story to know that
statement was complete bullshit. So I said that.

“Bullshit,” I added, softly to my window.

Casten elbowed me again.

At that particular moment, her dog Riley, I think, farted and climbed on my lap. He
started in with his licking again and I let him. I’m not exactly sure why.

By now we were nearly back to the campsite. I could see Casten’s truck and the array
of vehicles from the team lined up outside the motor homes.

Shaking my head in disgust at this whole situation, I pushed the dog on the floor
board when we pulled into the campsite.

Craning my neck to look out the back window, I was looking for Tommy but couldn’t
see him.

“Are you going to the race tonight?”

The woman blushed at her own excitement. “Oh yes! I’ve been to all the races on the
west coast. I’m from Washington but anytime the Outlaws make this side of the states
I go…even quit my job to make it this time.”

“Have you ever been in the pits? That’s the best way to get to the drivers and interact
with them. Jameson loves that sort of thing. Loves the fans,” Casten said.

I’ve only been around Jameson a few times now and I wanted to look at this woman and
say, “He’s full of shit, sweetheart.”

But I didn’t.

I wasn’t sure what was happening but this woman was staring at him now, hanging on
his every word. I had to get out. The smell was just unbearable.

By the look in Casten’s eyes when I opened the door, he was full of shit but this
woman didn’t know that. No one knew when Casten was pulling their leg because he was
the most convincing person when he wanted to be.

Apparently that was right now.

I got out of the truck and they talked for a few minutes before Casten got out and
leaned inside the truck. “Meet me at the pit gate at four?”

The woman nodded eagerly.

Seeming pleased with himself, Casten walked over to me sitting on the picnic table
by myself. No one was around, or maybe they were sleeping.

The rising smoke from last night’s fire was still smoldering with canvas folding chairs
positioned around it. Beer cans littered the ground and picnic table around us.

“Who the hell was that woman?”

Jameson walked out of the motor coach right then, smiling.

“Shut up,” Casten said to me.

“Don’t be a dick. What were you talking—”

I didn’t question his logic but I could give him a little attitude.

There are times when I don’t have the capacity to deal with bullshit. Today was one
of them.

With my good foot, I pushed Casten off the bench we were sitting on and into the dirt.

He smiled, standing to brush off his underwear that were now dusty. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

I probably should have been concerned that here I was sitting in my bra and underwear
and Jameson was now standing there looking at us.

He wasn’t looking at us though. Cocking his head to the side with a look of confusion,
he watched the woman’s truck pull away. “Who was that?”

“No one. Where’s Tommy?”

“Oh, Tommy?” Jameson called out, turning around to Tommy’s tent and laughing. “Casten’s
looking for you.”

“It wasn’t me!” Tommy yelled from inside his tent.

Jameson smiled wider. “How was your swim?”

I was so confused.

With a smile, Casten walked past his dad and over to Tommy’s tent and jumped on top
of it collapsing it.

Jameson looked at me, eyes bloodshot and cheeks red from his sunburn yesterday. “How’s
that snake bite?”

Was he trying to be nice or mocking me? I wasn’t inclined to give a fuck since I wasn’t
exactly sure whose idea it was to put our mattress in the lake. I settled on, “Fuck
off.”

When Jameson started laughing, I knew he was part of it. I tried to rack my brain
for any prank I could think to pull on Jameson but I was no good at this sort of thing.

“We could have drowned!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jameson gasped between his laughter trying to catch his breath.
“You would have woke up when you hit the water.”

When we got to the track, I began to understand Casten’s plan a little more.

After gathering the woman from the pit gate, Casten walked up to his dad with a sure
walk. “Oh, hey, Dad,” Jameson, who was dressed in his race suit now, helmet in hand,
turned when he heard Casten. “This is the woman who gave us a ride back to the campsite.
She’s a big race fan. BIG. And she wanted to meet you.”

I’ve never seen Casten’s smile bigger than it was right then.

I’ve also never seen Jameson’s so white. Even with his sunburn.

“Dana, meet my Dad, Jameson,” He gave Dana a light push into his dad and stepped back
with his arms crossed over his chest admiring his handiwork.

Sway, who was seated next to me near the hauler burst out laughing. She slapped her
hand over her mouth but it didn’t do any good.

Dana paid no mind to anyone and wrapped her arms around Jameson. “I’ve missed you!”
As if they were long lost buddies.

I had a feeling Jameson was going to kill Casten.

“Paybacks are a motherfucker, Dad.” Casten said to his dad as he walked past him,
bumped his shoulder and then took a seat next to me and his mom. I high-fived him.

It took Jameson thirty-nine minutes to get Dana to leave him alone. And I think the
only reason he did was because he put his helmet on and got inside his car.

The guys around the pit were laughing so hard they couldn’t even stand up straight.
Willie, who tried like hell to keep a straight face, broke down in bellowing cackles
and proceeded to beat his fist against the side of the camper.