The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (10 page)

Tate did nothing but stand-back and watch while an
official pulled me off him. When I looked back at him, I realized I did some
pretty decent damage too. I’m sure I’d broken his nose with the amount of blood
coming from it and maybe bruised his ribs a little. I was hoping I had cracked
a couple after his comment about my wife putting out.

Along with the ever present reporters, the NASCAR
official was in my face instantly, threatening to suspend me, which then caused
me to start yelling back at him because, goddamn it, he was standing there the
entire time. He was close enough to hear him taunting me.

Apparently, in NASCAR’s rules, taunting doesn’t equal as
ass kicking, who knew. I guess I didn’t read that section of the rulebook. It
must be under detrimental to the sport, but taunting was not. But I’ll tell you
what. That detrimental to the sport shit was sure beneficial for them as the
screaming fans still in their seats right now watching this will attest.

Kyle and Spencer pulled me away from the official who I
was about to show the same lesson to. It took both of them to pull me away,
forcing me toward the NASCAR Hauler.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kyle snapped pushing
me forward.

“He
...
that
...
he was saying shit
...
and I
...
fuck
!” I
couldn’t even string a damn sentence together and I noticed that most of my
words were coming out in the form of profanity. I’d lost it once again. Just
when you think you have control over yourself and everything you learned had
taught you something you realize once again, you’re no different than any other
animal and always fighting for survival.

“Stop this shit!” Kyle said incredulously, yelling in my
face. “I thought you would have learned with Darrin!”

Kyle knew better than to get in my face, or maybe he
didn’t. Either way, it just riled me up even further.

The fact that I was away from Sway, that it was the first
race of the season and some kid tried to fuck with me by talking shit about my
wife, had me in somewhat of an emotional, hormonal, testosterone and adrenaline
mess.

“Don’t ever mention his name around me again, Kyle.” I
warned jerking my arm away from him.

“Calm down,” he huffed and stalked inside the hauler.

After a few deep breaths, I headed inside to face the
fire.

Shuman was leaving just as I walked inside. We exchanged
a heated glare but other than that, he avoided me and for good reason.

I chuckled to myself that he was holding a towel to his
face.

After a few minutes there fuming with Kyle, Lisa opened
the door and motioned for me to come in. Kyle waited as she didn’t want to see
him yet.

“It’s good to see you Lisa.” I kicked my feet up on her
desk after I took a seat in the leather chair to the left of her desk.

“Feet down Riley,” She snapped but smiled despite her
clipped tone.

I was surprised to see I was joking around considering my
shit-tacular mood.

“First of all
...
congratulations
on the baby,” she smiled. “I hear he’s cute.”

“Pft
...
look at his
dad
...
why wouldn’t he be cute?”

She smiled and clicked her pen obsessively. “I see
fatherhood hasn’t calmed the Rowdy Riley down, has it?”

“Oh
please
, that fucker was asking for it.”

“Regardless, just because you’re a champion, doesn’t mean
you can go around starting fights. You need to act like a champion. Going out
there and roughing up the rookies is not the way to conduct yourself.
Especially after last season.”

Of course she would refer to last year.

Everyone seemed to like to remind me of what happened as
though I forgot. Fuck no I didn’t forget. Every single time I looked at my
wife, I was reminded. Every time I looked at my son, I was reminded. And every
time I looked at the championship trophy, I was reminded of how I got past it.
Why they thought that reminding me would be beneficial to me, when I constantly
reminded myself, was stupid.

I stood immediately, my temper rising again.

“I didn’t start it!”

“Sit down.” Her glare had me sitting. “I know you didn’t
start it but I’m not going to put up with shit this season. Act like an adult.
Walk away for once.”

I had no comeback for that one because when I thought
about what I just said, I was acting like a child. I only nodded after that as
she told me I was being fined but she wouldn’t issue a probation if I kept out
of trouble.

I left after that, only to be stopped by my dad.

“Where have you been?” he asked following in step beside
me.

“Uh
...
bathroom?”

“Bullshit.” His eyes narrowed. “You were in the NASCAR
Hauler, weren’t you?”

My eyes flickered to his but I kept looking straight
ahead while a group of fans approached us. I shrugged once. “I just wanted to
say hello to Lisa.”

“Yeah
...
I’m sure.”
He replied and signed a few autographs beside me.

“You wanna catch some dinner before I fly home?”

I hadn’t had seen much of my dad since New Year’s. He
left right after the holiday to prepare for the World of Outlaws season. Their
series actually started in late January as opposed to mine that started in
February. Being the owner of the team I raced for, he must have thought his
presence was needed at the first race.

The fans around us distracted him so I asked again.
“Dinner?”

“Sure.” He agreed with a nod. “How’re Sway and Axel?”

I felt a huge smile graze my lips.

“Good. I can’t wait to see them.” Smiling even wider when
I saw she was calling me. I hadn’t seen her and Axel in nearly three weeks and
I couldn’t wait to get home tonight.

“I’ll bet.” My dad smiled and shook his head as I
answered my phone.

5.
             
Blister – Sway

Blister – An
overheating of the tread compound resulting in bubbles on the tire surface.

“I’ve had a good forty-two years, Sway.” Charlie said
randomly, his breathing labored as he lounged around my family room. “I’ve done
everything I wanted to do.”

“Don’t talk like that,
dad
.” I told him throwing a
cookie his direction. “I don’t want to think about it.”

I knew by his appearance it was any time now but just as
I have always done, I denied it. Avoided it. I’d perfected denial to the point
where it worked well for me.

Emma had flown in this morning so when Charlie started
talking about dying, she was bawling. “Stop it.” I whispered throwing a cookie
at her as well.

“I’m trying
...
it’s
just that
...
” she burst into tears again
and shoved another cookie in her mouth.

I’d been into baking this week and had made four dozen
oatmeal raisin cookies as well as a pot roast today alone.

I received a Kitchen Aide as a wedding present and I was
making use of it. It was as though, by baking, I was trying to keep my mind off
the fact that my dad only had days left and my husband was across the United
States from me.

“Okay,” I threw my arms up in the air. “I can’t handle either
one of you right now. Stop this.”

They both stared at me like I’d lost my mind and I was
fairly certain at this point I had with the lack of sleep I was getting and my
new obsession with baking.

I had a hunch when Charlie came over here this morning
that he came for a reason.

Again, I was in avoidance.

It was Sunday afternoon and the race was in the pre-race
ceremonies when Jameson came on the television. Axel, though he couldn’t see
very well, turned his head in the direction of the TV when he heard his daddy’s
voice. His brow furrowed in concentration.

I listened carefully as he talked about the off-season
and his expectations for this coming season.

“I spent most of my time with my family. I’ve been
testing in Phoenix, Loudon, and Atlanta but other than that
...
it was just enjoying my wife and son.”

The announcer laughed at his wide grin, as did all of us.

“So you got married and had a kid all in the three month
off-season, busy weren’t you?”

“Yeah
...
I was.” He
waggled his eyebrows at the end of his lewd statement and I wanted to punch
him.

Emma and Charlie laughed.

I hardly thought that was appropriate but giggled anyway.

“Do you have a chance at winning here today? Win the
championship and come back and win the Daytona 500? How cool would that be?”

Jameson threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah
...
it’d be
pretty cool. We weren’t that great in qualifying and our last practice run we
changed the set-up quite a bit so we’ll see
...
you
never know. Daytona is tricky. You can be leading one minute and the next
you’re running forty-third. It’s the luck of the draw and how well you partner
up with other drivers in the draft.”

“What do you think of these rookies this year having been
in their shoes last year?” Neil asked Jameson.

I could tell by that point that Jameson was done with the
interview but he continued to give his attention to the reporter while
simultaneously signing autographs for the swarm of fans surrounding him.

“Well, I’ve only met a few. I met Colin Shuman this
morning and I can’t say I was impressed but
...
”
Jameson shrugged. “I know when I started
...
it
was all about finding your groove and proving yourself and I suppose that’s
what they’re all workin’ toward this race.”

Jameson made it clear in a roundabout way that the interview
was done by turning away from Neil.

Before Neil walked away, Jameson did send us a quick
hello.

“I just gotta say hello to my beautiful wife and son at
home. I love you honey and I’ll see you guys tonight.”

I cried and reached for the cookies in front of me.

Most of the afternoon went this way with Charlie talking
randomly about death in between his catnaps and leaving Emma and me in tears.

I wasn’t sure how much more either one of us could take
without snatching his weed from him just to relax. Believe me, if it wasn’t for
breastfeeding, I would have taken it when he first walked in the door this
morning.

Charlie woke up soon after the race was under way and
watched with us for a little while before he fell asleep again.

In my gut, I knew this was the end and that made the day
even worse.

After watching a few reality TV shows with us, Andrea
picked him up to take him home and I made sure I gave him an extra-long hug
goodbye, as did Emma.

“I love you dad.”

He smiled, a real smile, one I hadn’t seen since he saw
Axel for the first time.

“You’ve made my life what it is kid.” He told me and
kissed my cheek before he left. “I love you.”

Closing the door behind him, I was met with Emma and a
mouth full of cookies.

“How fucking sad can one afternoon be?” she wailed
cramming another one in, then started choking on them as crumbs flew from her
mouth.

“Stop putting them in your mouth while crying.” I replied
smacking her back. “You’d think you would have learned that as a child.”

Axel was still in his bassinet in the family room so
Emma, currently choking, and me, crying, walked back in there and flopped down
on the leather chair.

“I know that was his goodbye
...
I just know it.” I mumbled reaching for the remote next to me.

“I know, right. I feel the same way.” Emma agreed
reaching for Axel, still coughing.

“Why don’t you wait until you’ve stopped coughing,” I
suggested handing her a glass of water, taking Axel from her.

“Good idea.”

Axel whimpered as he usually did, snuggling into my arms.

He’d be turning two-months old next week and every day he
reminded me a little more of Jameson.

He hadn’t lost any of his rusty loops of hair. Instead,
it was thicker and hardly tamable. His eyes were lighter as green hues began to
peak through. The best part was that he was gaining weight.

The first month we had a hard time getting him to gain
any weight but now he was packing on the pounds, and I was losing them from
breastfeeding, which I loved.

I should clarify. I loved losing the weight. I hated
breastfeeding.

Who in their right mind would want a child using their
nipples as a feeding device was beyond me.

I get that it’s supposed to make you feel closer to your
child and is incredibly healthy for the baby but I really don’t enjoy it, at
all.

Let me explain the bad sides I discovered. When I first
started, it was excruciatingly painful. It was as though he felt he needed to
bite down on my nipples to get any milk out. I tried to assure him this
wouldn’t help matters and all he needed to do was suck but I was almost
positive he had no clue what the fuck I was talking about.

Then, after they get the hang of sucking for their food,
your nipples begin to crack and bleed. Not enjoyable
...
at all. I wasn’t sure what he got more of, blood or food.

“Do you have any milk?” Emma asked heading for the
kitchen for more cookies.

“Yeah
...
look in
the side door.” I smiled. “Make sure you grab the one in the carton, not in the
bags.”

Axel whimpered letting me know he was ready for his
dinner.

I will say that breastfeeding was getting easier but I
still wished he was a year old so I could stop.

Later that night, Emma and I cuddled in bed with Axel
watching a
Friends
marathon when my phone rang. I figured it was Jameson
letting me know he’d be home soon but I was surprised, and sad, to see it was
Andrea.