The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (63 page)

“I need you to go home instead.” She told me.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“Arie
...
” she
sighed. “Emma called. Arie locked herself in the bathroom. She’s been crying
for the last four hours.”

Sway and I never smothered our kids. If they wanted to
talk about something, they came to us. This had its downsides. Arie was the
downside.

Axel was our levelheaded kid, patient and thought things
through,
most
of the time. Casten was out of fucking control most of the
time but he was a good kid and happy so that’s all we could ask for. I did
wonder where he got all his energy at times but then I looked at Emma and
Spencer and chalked it up to something he may have inherited from them.

Arie, well she was secretive. If she wanted you to know,
she’d tell you. If not, you’d never know.

This is why we weren’t aware she even had a boyfriend.

I did not like the idea of her having a boyfriend for the
simple fact that I was a teenage boy once and all I thought about was my dick,
aside from racing naturally. I wondered how the hell my parents put up with me,
Spencer and Emma as kids. Now I knew that they just went with hoping to come
out alive by the time we all turned eighteen.

So I went home instead of to Knoxville to deal with Arie
and this mysterious boyfriend.

When I walked inside, Emma was on my couch eating ice
cream.

“She’s in her bathroom.”

I slapped the back of her head when I walked past. “That
shit will make you fat.”

“Fuck off asshole.” She mumbled with another spoonful of
ice cream.

Making my way up the stairs to her room, I could hear her
crying from outside the door.

“Arie,” I tapped lightly. “Sweetie it’s dad.”

“Go away!”

“Nah, I think I need to come in there.”

It took me about an hour to get her to finally open the
door. When she did, she was sitting on the floor next to the tub with the
sleeves of her sweatshirt drawn over her hands, her face against her arms with
her knees pulled up to her chest, crying.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She didn’t say anything before she showed me her cell
phone with a picture of the said boyfriend, kissing Shaylee, the same girl that
Axel knew.

Sighing, I sat down next to her. “Who’s the guy?”

“Ricky Hagen.” She answered softly, her tears coming once
again. “I thought he
...
after we
...
well now apparently that meant nothing.”

Her phone I was holding cracked under my hands.
That
motherfucker.

“Dad, you broke my phone!” she ripped it from my hands
only to have it fall apart.

I tried to remain calm and collected and not like I
wanted to find this asshole kid and show him just how scary Jameson Riley could
be. Stupid little shit.

Arie moved closer to me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry dad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong Arie. He did. He’s clearly
an asshole and you can do better than that.”

“Why do all the guys go for the sluts?”

How the hell do I answer that one?

I thought I knew how Sway might have felt knowing I slept
around before her but hearing those words from my daughter made it that much
more real to me. I was just like Ricky when I was his age. I went for who was
easy and less likely to have strings attached. Ricky was a racer too as he was
more than likely playing by those same rules.

Rules I didn’t want my little girl knowing even existed
but they did.

“There’s not much I can offer you on that sweetheart.
Guys are jerks. Do you want me to beat him up?”

“No, you’ll get arrested. Besides,” she smiled softly,
her green eyes brighter from her tears. “Kale broke his nose anyway.”

“Kale
...
Justin’s
son?”

“Yeah, he’s a nice kid.”

A small laugh escaped me before I threw my arm around
her. “Good for him.” I honestly didn’t think that little runt had it in him.
“It doesn’t make the pain go away though, does it?” I remember comforting Sway
this very same way when that jerk off Dylan Grady broke her heart and hated the
similarities my kids were now facing with their own lives.

She shook her head. “No. I just want to be grown up now.”
I watched her brush some hair behind her ear, her face one of sadness and
resignation. She clearly believed this pain would hurt forever.

“Don’t rush it.” I told her. “When your childhood is
gone, it’s gone forever. You can’t get it back.”

“Mom says I’ll remember though.”

“Yeah
...
you will
but just live for now. That’s something I never did.”

“You’ve always lived this lifestyle, haven’t you?”

I nodded. “I have but it’s what I wanted.”

Arie and I sat there for close to an hour before she said
she was tired and went to bed. Making my way downstairs, I checked my phone to
see when Sway would be home.

Emma was still on the couch, now watching
Top Gun
.

I threw myself down in one of the leather chairs across
from her glaring at the television on the wall. “I hate teenage boys.”

“That would mean you hate yourself. You act like a
teenage boy.” Emma replied gazing at Tom Cruise on the screen.

“Don’t you have a home to go to?”

“Yeah but my asshole sons are there with their stupid
girlfriends.”

“Don’t like the Double mint twins?”

“Fuck no,” Emma sighed her eyes remaining on Tom Cruise.
“Fake little bitches.”

Charlie and Noah were dating twins. They were blonde
annoying superficial twins that nearly everyone in the family couldn’t stand.

Apparently Charlie and Noah could though.

“Am I still cool?” I asked kicking my legs over the
ottoman. “I used to be cool.”

I’m not sure why I asked Emma. I knew she’d give me a
response I didn’t want, but I asked anyway.

“No, you’re not cool. You’re old.” Emma replied with no
regard to my feelings.

Grabbing the remote, I turned off the television. “Go
watch TV with the Double mint twins then.”

“You’re an asshole too!” She yelled after me as I stomped
back up the stairs.

Later that night when Sway got home, I pulled the boys
aside.

“Axel, do you know this Ricky Hagen kid?”

“Yeah, he races USAC midgets on the western circuit.” He
looked confused. “Why?”

“Apparently he broke Arie’s heart.”

Axel looked at me and then Casten. “Did you know about
this?”

Casten’s brow furrowed. “I knew she liked him but no, I
didn’t know much else.”

“I need to talk with this kid.” I told them.

“Apparently we do too,” The boys said walking upstairs
into Arie’s room.

There was one good thing about my kids, they stuck
together. About a year ago now, Axel had gotten into a fairly bad wreck in
Terra Haute that landed him in the hospital overnight. Arie and Casten never
left his side.

“They’re good kids,” Sway said closing the door to Arie’s
room; all three kids were on her bed watching a movie.

“I can’t believe she fell for a racer.”

Sway smiled. “Did you really expect anything less? Look
at her family.”

“Did you hear Kale broke Ricky’s nose?”

“Actually I was there when it happened. Kale sure does
have a thing for Arie.”

“Great,” I groaned. “Now I have to hate Justin.”

“And how do you think he feels about you? Your son took
his only daughter’s virginity.”

“Don’t say it like that. That sounds horrible.”

“I’m not going to sugar coat it for you.”

No, Sway never sugar coated it for me. Throughout our entire
lives together, she told me the way it was. I needed that. Too bad parenthood
wasn’t that way. I needed sugar coating on that, I couldn’t handle this whole
truth shit.

It sucks seeing them get older and making the same
mistakes you made but it would hurt if you never got to see that. Don’t tell
them what to be or how they should act. Let them be who they want to be. When
they become their own person, that’s what makes you a proud parent. All that
shit you didn’t want to know becomes worth it because you did something right.
You raised your kids to be their own person.

27.
        
Hairpin – Jameson

Hairpin – A slow
180-turn which exits in the opposite direction the driver enters.

Toward the end of every season my life felt like I was
going two hundred miles an hour and praying for a left turn in sight. That
year, after the plane crash and parenting, and racing, it couldn’t have been
more true.

With everything that was happening with racing, sponsors,
team changes, media, kids, my wife
...
I
just needed
...
me time.

I couldn’t do that by just simply relaxing at home. That
wasn’t me.

Naturally, I went sprint car racing.

The methanol, the dirt, the Saturday night lights
...
this calmed me in ways fishing or golfing
might do for someone else my age. I needed the adrenaline to feel alive.

Turns out that for turning forty-three that year I still
had it in me. I won.

Life gets to you at times, you can’t help it. For a while
you’re going along thinking everything is good and then a plane crash happens
or your daughter loses her virginity to an asshole. You’re dealing with life
the best you can and it’s working for the most part.

Then it hits you that you’re just like everyone else
trying to make it through each day. The only difference is that I was a race
car driver. My life was constantly going two-hundred miles an hour. It never
stopped until it stopped you.

As a racer, you can’t just walk away. It’s in your blood
to keep coming back to what’s been your life all those years.

Look at Bucky Miers, the man who took a chance on an
eighteen-year old kid. He retired last year only because he had a heart attack.

Look at Andy Crockett. He’d been at the peak of his
career when he died. And Colin Shuman was a kid taken much too young. I didn’t
always agree with Colin but still, the kid had talent and his career was ended
suddenly.

I don’t know. Maybe I couldn’t figure out where I was
going with all this but my point was that you’re going along in your life the
way you know how and my way was at 200 mph.

I had a feeling that no matter what this would always be
that way for me regardless of if I retired.

Like I said, you don’t just walk away completely. Bucky
was still at the dirt track every Saturday night except only he wasn’t in a
car. You can take the racer out of the car but you can’t take him off the track
completely.

I knew the possibility, as a racer, that each Sunday
could be my last but I also couldn’t think about it that way. The moment you’re
scared is the moment you
need
to walk away. There’s no room for fear.

The race season had gone on much like it always did but
there was a void that year for everyone we had lost. With my team, it wasn’t
the same anymore. A part of Kyle was gone, a part of our family was gone and
that affected us in every way. We struggled each week in the pits though we
kept it together. Our romance was gone and I knew it’d take some time to find a
groove again.

In November of that year, right before the last race of
the cup season, Axel raced in his first World of Outlaw race in Charlotte at
the World Finals. He’d raced outlaws before but never in a sanctioned point
race.

This was also the first race where three generations of
drivers ever started a World of Outlaw race together.

Nothing exciting happened. I started mid-way through the
field and ended up blowing a tire with six laps to go. My dad started fourth
snagged a third place finish but what really made the night for us was Axel.

He started last when he wrecked in his heat and charged through
the field of twenty-four cars to win his first Outlaw race.

My dad and I let him have his spot light with the media,
laughing when Lane dumped a cooler full of ice down his back.

“There was a lot of talk during the break on whether or
not we should change out the gears but it looks like the call was right.” Axel
told the reporter in his face.

I smiled.

My son had just won his first World of Outlaw race. Much
like my own dad when I won some of my first races in my professional career, I
didn’t have many words. It was kind of like his first Chili Bowl Midget
Nationals win.

My dad sighed beside me limping back to the haulers.

“Can you make it or shall I carry you old man?”

He pushed me knocking me sideways.

“Carry me,” he repeated with a snort. “Son
...
who finished ahead of you tonight?”

“I blew a tire.” I defended watching the boys in the
distance.

“Still, I beat you.” He laughed rubbing his shoulder he
had surgery on last winter. “I’m sure that’s all that matters.”

“Come on old man,” slinging my arm over his shoulders, I
pulled him into me. “Let’s go have a beer.”

Back at the hauler, we relaxed and threw back a few beers
while Axel and his boys celebrated in victory lane. I enjoyed times like this
with my dad. It reminded me of when I traveled with him when I was younger and
we’d sit around after the races and he’d tell me how he thought I could do
better.

Now it was different though. Times like this we just
enjoyed the company. That’s not to say we didn’t have the smart ass comments
from time-to-time but it was nice.

Jimi tipped his beer toward me, his eyes tired.

“I’m getting too old for this.” He rolled his neck to one
side. “It’s wearing on my body.”

“I feel you.”

Injuries have a way of catching up with you too. In
sprint car racing you could get in some of the most violent wrecks and did
damage to your body. With Jimi pushing seventy soon, everyone expected him to
announce retirement any day now. I knew it was coming but as a fellow racer,
you don’t bring up retirement.