The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (19 page)

Blend Line – Jameson

After the race and contenders conference, we were having
dinner in the hotel restaurant when a woman approached us.

She looked familiar but a lot of people looked familiar
when you are constantly surrounded by fans.

I was exhausted and the last thing I wanted right now was
another pit lizard asking me to sign her tits.

“Jameson?” she asked as though she knew me.

All of us turned to look over at her. She was tall, brown
hair, green eyes. Looked similar to Sway and then it dawned on me who she was.

Fuck!

Nervously, I leaned closer to Sway, offering her my hand.
I was also silently letting this woman know I was with someone.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked brusquely praying she
took that as a clue to leave.

No such luck.

“It’s me
...
Lauren.”
She said with a smile.

This can’t be happening.

I felt Sway’s hand tense inside of my own and adjusted
her hold on Axel. I didn’t say anything but looked between Sway and Lauren.

“Remember
...
we
...
” her voice faded and before I could say
any more, Sway held up her hand.

“Hello, I’m Jameson’s wife, Sway Riley.”

Lauren stammered for a moment before finally saying. “Oh
...
I’m Lauren Thomas,” she glanced at me.
“Sorry I
...
didn’t know he was married.”

“No worries,” Sway said politely. “We just got married.
He wasn’t married at the time, I’m sure.”

They chatted for a moment and I sat there dumbfounded
that this was even happening.

When she disappeared, Aiden and Spencer broke into a fit
of laughter. “That was awesome!”

I reached for Sway’s hand again. “Can we
please
go
home now?”

“Are you kidding me?” She teased rolling her eyes. “This
is just getting entertaining.”

Spencer punched my shoulder. “Nice going, stud.” He
replied sarcastically. “That had to have been awkward.”

If only he knew that I was now in possession of a
Taser.

I knew this would happen at some point and I was fairly
certain it would happen again. I had no clue who those women were that I slept
with when Sway left to finish college nor did I have any clue how many there
were. I threw out a number to Sway but I was pretty sure it wasn’t anywhere
close to that number.

I had this void when she left after the Chili Bowl and my
career had really taken off. To fill that void, I had frivolous encounters with
women I didn’t know. I didn’t like it, but I also couldn’t change it either.

Looking back to that time in my life—it was hard to
imagine that my life would turn out like this three years later.

The turning point for me was when Sway came out to
Daytona. After that, I realized my feelings were deeper for this woman besides
just being friends. I also knew that being friends with benefits would change
the entire dynamic of our relationship and I’m glad it did. It made me realize
that a friend with benefits wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted more. I wanted what
I had now.

It’s funny how what you think you don’t need is exactly
what you needed all along.

I turned to Sway once we were leaving the restaurant to
head home.

“I’m sorry about that.”

She smiled and handed Axel to me.

“Don’t be
...
it was
bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I know
...
I just
...
didn’t want you to see it.”

“Like I said Jameson
...
it’s
not your fault
...
well it is, but still,
you had no way of knowing she’d find you.”

I drew her against my side, adjusting my hold on Axel as
well. He looked up at me and smiled. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you two.”

Sway’s hand around my waist and squeezed. “Yes you are.”

9.
             
Roll Cage – Sway

Roll Cage – The
steel tubing inside the race car’s interior. It’s designed to protect the
driver from impacts or rollovers. The roll cage must meet strict NASCAR safety
guidelines and are inspected regularly during the race weekend.

It seemed as though the season was flying by.

We left Las Vegas, flew to Atlanta then Darlington, Bristol,
Texas
...
new track each week. Before we
knew it, the Coca-Cola 600 rolled around.

That morning Jameson had a meet and greet scheduled in
the media center. I went with him while Nancy looked after Axel in the motor
coach.

Jameson was always good at maintaining crowd control and
recognizing when he was getting out of hand. That morning it got out of hand.

Jameson, who rarely looked up in meet and greets, watched
a group of guys carefully, as they pushed forward through the crowd to get
closer to the table.

“Hey,” Jameson finally said with a sharp warning. “Stop
that.”

The group of boys who were probably college kids seemed
caught off guard by his tone and stopped staring at him.

Then they decided to argue that they had waited all day
for an autograph and the last time Jameson declined the autograph.

“Well, when did you ask me?” Jameson asked them.

One of the men, the closest to the table spoke first. “We
were in Bristol last March with garage pass and you wouldn’t sign anything for
us.”

Jameson laughed softly, his left hand with the sharpie in
it rose to sweep over his eyebrow before he looked up at them. He pushed a
signed poster to his right for the woman beside them. Jameson winked at her
when she softly thanked him.

“Well there you go,” Jameson spoke quietly but it
strangely sounded more of a warning that way. “I was working.

The man to his right started in again and Jameson focused
on him finally meeting eye contact. “I’m not going anywhere. I will sign
whatever you want but you’re hurting people when you push forward like that.”

“We are not.” They had the nerve to reply with as they
once again, shuffled forward.

Van appeared beside me when he noticed the commotion at
the table.

That’s when Jameson point at the guys. “Listen, they are
kids and women surrounding ya’ll and you’re crushing them against this table
when you push forward. Pay attention.”

Jameson then shook his head in annoyance and signed their
posters.

“What a jerk.” One of them mumbled as they walked away.

Was he being a jerk?

No. He was looking out for the people who waited
patiently for him not the ones that thought he owed them something. Those kids
gave Jameson shit and it didn’t mean shit to him.

But it did.

The rest of the meet and greet I could tell it bothered
him. Regardless of the fact that Jameson was considered a professional athlete,
it didn’t mean he owed them anything. They thought so.

Jameson would be lying if he said he wasn’t bothered by
remarks like that. Now that he was a father, he cared more about the image he
was creating to his son. He didn’t want to be known as an asshole.

We snuck back to the motor coach after that for some
lunch; Jameson remained quiet caring his jug of water when he stopped at the
door to his motor coach.

Looking down, I saw the addition Emma had added. There
right before the steps was a door mat that said:
Beware! Asshole in side.

He smirked despite the edge of annoyance. “Emma
...
”

“Ah yes. She has a way about her, doesn’t she?”

“Hmm
...
yes” he
turned and offered me a smile. “
...
she does.”

Opening the door, he stepped inside where Cal had made
lunch for us and Axel was waiting for his mommy to feed him.

Jameson smiled when he looked at the new hat designs
Simplex had sent over. They looked pretty cool and seeing the words “Champion”
sprawled across them was satisfying knowing how hard it was to gain those words
“Champion.”

It wasn’t long before Alley came inside and motioned to
Jameson that it was time to get the pre-race activities going so that’s where
we headed. After Jameson pulled one over on Emma and replaced her lotion again
with self-tanner. It was stupid that we found so much humor in something we’ve
done a dozen times but every time it’s just as funny.

Being the race that marked the one-year start of our
friends with benefits days, the thoughts swirled of our time together back
then.

The tingling feeling in my gut I had that night and the
way he whispered “stay” and then finally, coming together intimately for the
first time.

Smiling, Jameson approached me as I stood with Axel on
the grid. He’d just turned six-months old and slobbered like a Boxer puppy. I
couldn’t understand where all the salvia was coming from.

“It’s different seeing you in this light.” He said softly
only to me. “I like it.”

“Yeah well all this heat is causing me to sweat like
crazy. I feel like I’m wearing a water bra.”

“Water bra?” his eyebrow rose.

“I think I have a pool of water in each cup from all this
sweat.”

Jameson grinned wider. “That’s attractive.”

“Hey,” I shifted handing him to Axel to him airing myself
out. That kid produced a lot of heat. “I aim to please.”

“That you do honey.” Axel bounced in his arms when the
race day activity kicked up. A thriving country band, surrounded by screaming
fans, played their new single on the stage located in the infield grass. It
reminded me of a time when Jameson and I would sit in the infield at the local
dirt tracks surrounded by country music, old trucks, and tailgates down sitting
on coolers full of beer.

Jameson’s arms snuck around my waist swaying to the music
as he held our son.

“I wasn’t referring to the heat either.”

Leaning back against his chest, I whispered, “I know.”

I knew he was referring to our time spent in this exact
location a year ago. Me feeling like I was about to burst with anxiety and him,
though I didn’t know at the time, experiencing that gnawing dread of wanting
something you thought was completely out of reach.

But here we were, a year later, after overcoming tragedy,
together.

There wasn’t a single breeze that day. The heat scorched
high in the sky over Lowe’s Motor Speedway grid of forty three cars waiting for
the race to begin.

Though I thought for sure they were lying, the
thermometer said it was a hundred and four. It had to be at least two hundred
degrees. I was sure of it.

Jameson, to prepare for the heat today, had been carrying
around a gallon water bottle and was well on his way through his second gallon.

“I know in about an hour,” he shook the half empty gallon
jug. “I’m gonna have to pee.”

“And then what?” I asked laughing at the thought of him
asking to stop the race for a bathroom break.

“I just hold it.” He looked down to sign an autograph
from a pint-sized fan who approached.

“What if you can’t?”

“You just go.”

I had a feeling this happened before. He’d been awfully
quick to change his uniform after the Texas race.

On days like this when the temperature outside broke a
hundred, the heat inside the cars peaked one forty. A driver’s biggest concern
was the heat. With the safety equipment they wore, gloves, and a complete racing
suit, they felt the heat.

The exhaust systems ran underneath the driver’s feet and
the heat from the engine and transmission was intense.

With all that heat, they sweat. And when they sweat, it
doesn’t pool in their bra. It’s absorbed by their suit usually but it leads to
dehydration eventually. It’s not uncommon for a driver to lose about five
pounds during a race just from water weight.

The problem is that dehydration leads to more blood flow
throughout your body trying to cool you off and less reaching your vital
organs. In turn, you deal with impaired concentration, decreased energy and
fatigue. That’s not exactly ideal when inside a car pushing two-hundred and
surrounded by concrete walls.

Jameson had a good ritual on days like this. He’d watch the
weather closely, prepare by drinking lots of water and eliminating soda and
alcohol, two things that could dehydrate you quickly.

Back in the days when he raced sprint cars on dirt, he’d
pack his racing suit with ice packs just prior to the feature events but now
they had cooling systems in their helmets that circulated air and also a “cool”
shirt. These shirts have about fifty feet of tubing inside of them that has the
ability to keep you cool by flipping a temperature switch. They also have
something similar built into their seat to cool them and it’s controlled by an
auxiliary switch on their dash.

Kyle caught me when Jameson was with the media and asked
my thoughts on how Jameson would handle the heat today.

“Are you worried?” I asked. Kyle never showed emotions on
race day. He kept his, thoughts and remarks, focused on the race and winning.

“No but I want to be sure he’s gonna be okay.” He fiddled
with his head set adjusting the volume as I’m sure Mason was asking him
questions. They used headsets even when Jameson wasn’t on the track. It was
easier to communicate that way when the team was spread out around the track.
“It’s hot.”

“You’re telling me.” I laughed fanning my face with my
hand. “I think my bra has a gallon of sweat in it.”

Kyle looked around to see who heard me and then chuckled
returning his head set to his ears. “Always a pleasure conversing with you
Sway,”

Before Jameson got in the car that afternoon and prepared
for six hundred miles, I handed Axel over to Nancy who took him inside the
air-conditioned towers. It was too hot for him. Hell, it was too hot for me and
my pooling sweat.