Fast Time

by Shey Stahl

  We usually stayed with Rager’s parents at least once a year, usually the weekend we were there for the Silver Cup. His parents were a lot like mine. Supported Rager’s racing to the fullest, on top of going to a lot of the races. They loved it when the boys crashed their home for a weekend.

  As the hot plates of ribs and brisket arrived, conversations drifted. It always happened that way. If there was one thing our family loved as much as racing, it was good barbeque.

  “Is there anything else I can get you, guys?” Taylor, our waiter, asked.

  Dad looked up from his ribs, at his full glass of beer, satisfied, and smiled. “Nope.”

  Lily looked over at me when her salad was set in front of her, fork in hand. “You’re going to be there tomorrow, right?”

  I was asked this question a lot. Are you going to be there?

  It wasn’t a surprise considering how much of raising our three kids I missed. Lily did the majority of the parenting. Registered them for school and sports. Made sure they ate three meals a day and stayed healthy. Sure, I provided for them, but it was Lily who made sure everything worked smoothly. Without her, I knew raising kids and having a career, where I was on the road at least two weeks out of the month, wouldn’t work.

  I reached over, trying to assure her by picking up her hand and kissing it softly. “I’ll be there. I don’t leave for Sarver until Saturday morning.”

  She smiled and looked over at Jonah who was now sitting with Spencer pretending to spit on his food, which Jonah thought was hilarious. “He’s really excited for tomorrow and their uniforms.”

  “Oh yeah?” I raised an eyebrow after taking a drink of the beer in my hand. “What number did he pick?”

  “What do you think?”

  I thought for a moment, or tried to appear like I was when Casten’s laughter caught my attention. “Four?”

  Lily rolled her eyes, letting out a small noise that sounded like a sigh. “Nope. He cried until they let him have double zero.”

  “That’s my boy.” I winked at him across the table when he was watching my reaction to the number. Though he was five, Jonah was incredibly perceptive to everything around him. The spitting image of me in a lot of ways. Personality wise, he reminded me of Casten with the way he watched everyone and wanted to get a laugh out of you.

  When Jonah noticed I was watching him, he made his way over to me, grazing everyone’s food as he did so. We never had to order food for him. He was content sampling from others.

  When he made it to me, he crawled on my lap to eat off my plate.

  Leaning down, I got close to his ear. “Are you going to hit a home run for me tomorrow?”

  Jonah gave a little chuckle, pushing his blond hair from his face. “It’s t-ball, Dad.”

  Waiting for him to look at me, I pulled him a little closer. “I know, but I believe you can do it, if you do.”

  He seemed confused by my words at first, and then grinned, saying nothing more. Jonah wasn’t as vocal as Jack. I learned early on each one of my boys had their own personalities, just like my siblings and I did.

  THOUGH IT WAS EXCEPTIONALLY loud in the room, NASCAR qualifying was on, which captured Spencer’s attention. He nudged my dad with his elbow. “Is it weird for you seeing someone else in your car?”

  Dad looked over at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “Racing the number nine.” Spencer gestured to Easton’s car. “That’s your number.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair to look at the television. “Sometimes.”

  Dad retired from NASCAR racing after twenty seasons with the same team, and then moved to racing in the World of Outlaws. Sometimes, we all wondered if he missed it. If he did, he never gave much indication that he did.

  Knowing Dad’s attention was on the television and maybe not on this Bill guy any longer, Mom tried to reason with him. “It’s been seven years since Jimi passed. Don’t you think it’s time she could start dating?”

  His head slowly turned to her, not understanding why she was trying to reason with him. “I don’t give a shit how long it’s been.”

  “You wouldn’t move on?”

  Dad looked at Mom, appalled by her question. “No! Would you?”

  Practically choking on her food, Mom covered her mouth. “No. Never.”

  No one was sure if that was true or not, but laughed anyway, trying to make light of the conversation. In reality, Mom was nearly forced to consider what she would have done in Grandma’s position.

  Excusing myself from the table, I used the restroom and then found myself in the hallway looking over the black and white photographs of my dad’s team from over the years, and Grandpa. Seeing his double-zero sprint car in the photograph at his Knoxville Nationals win, the same track which took his life, was like a punch to my gut that night.

  I have seen that photograph a thousand times before, the one of him doing a wing dance and me at his feet at seven years old, but something inside me stirred. A memory brought to the surface in the blink of an eye. My dreams, my fears over watching him die all centered around the fact that he was my hero in a lot of ways, and he was gone.

  A pair of warm arms wrapped around my waist, her body pressing into my back. “I love that photograph of Grandpa.” Lily whispered against my arm, her lips moving over the bare skin just above my elbow.

  Wrapping my arm around her, I brought her into my side. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  “We have one of Jack and you in that same pose.”

  Having never tied the two photographs together, I couldn’t believe how similar that was. I remembered that race where Jack was standing beside the car. He was five then and I had won Knoxville Nationals, as well.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I still couldn’t shake the feelings deep inside me. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that in a matter of weeks we were returning to Knoxville and that made me a little nervous, or just that I missed Grandpa.

  Lily pressed another kiss to my shoulder. “The boys are getting tired and your brother started doing shots with Willie. I think we should go.”

  Twisting around, I looked back at the table where my brother and Willie were. Only now Willie was laying on the table preparing for what looked to be a body shot as Rosa held a bottle of tequila in her hand. “You’re right.”

  Rosa and tequila were never a good thing.

  IT WAS LATE WHEN we arrived home from the restaurant, probably nearing ten that night. As we entered the house, the boys didn’t seem tired, all three wandering up stairs, as did Lily and I.

  I noticed when I was packing my bag for Lernerville that Lily looked exhausted. We’d been on the road so much since summer started and I knew that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. I hated to think my lifestyle, my dream to be a champion was what was causing this look, the one where she sighed more often, stared off into the distance and fretted over the smallest details.

  She rummaged around through drawers and closets, up and down halls until she returned to our room holding three t-shirts of mine, and Jonah’s baseball cleats.

  “Here,”—pushing the shirts my direction, she never looked at me—“don’t forget to pack extra shirts.”

  “Are you okay?” I watched her face as I spoke then heard the boys down the hall laughing, and then the loud bangs that usually followed with rowdy boys.

  “Yeah, I’m just going to take a shower though.” She smiled, which meant I should join her. “Can you get the boys in bed?”

  Lord knows I wanted to join her. It wasn’t easy being on the road as much as we were to get time alone. Even though Lily and the boys were with me, we were never alone in the sense that the kids were always around.

  Making my way down the hall to where the boys were, I noticed all three were in Jack’s room playing on the floor with his toy sprint cars. Jack had his own room, while Jacen slept on the floor in there. He was supposed to share a room with Jonah, but we always found him on the floor in Jack’s room by
morning. I wasn’t sure why, but I was convinced his obsession with sleeping on the floor came from sleeping in the sprint car hauler for the first year of his life. When it was time for his nap, he’d just curl up next to something and fall asleep. Didn’t even need blankets half the time.

  I managed to move Jonah and Jacen into their rooms and then went back to tuck Jack in.

  “Night, Daddy.” Jack said, just as I was about to shut his light off.

  I turned, looking over my shoulder at him. “Night, buddy.”

  He gave me one last smile before closing his eyes. It was hard to believe how sweet that kid could be. You would never expect it when you saw him with his friends, trying to act tough or complaining about not being able to have a midget for his birthday.

  When I went back to our room down the hall, my bag was still on the bed and I heard Lily in the shower.

  When I entered the bathroom, steam rolled around as she stood under the spray. My lips tugged into a smile as I watched the beads of water follow the path of her curves.

  So fucking beautiful.

  My bare feet hit the tile floor and then I took the ten or so steps to the shower. Again, we didn’t have an overly extravagant house, but it was still nice and boasted features most homes didn’t have, like heated tile floors in the bathroom and shower. When hungover and drunk, it was nice to lay on warm tile, hinting to the reason we had them. I was twenty-one when we had this house built. It served a purpose.

  I stripped dramatically, tossing my clothes on the floor one piece at a time, but it didn’t get her attention like I’d hoped it would.

  What got her attention was the shower door clicking behind me. She looked over her shoulder, smiling. “Wasn’t sure you were going to join me.”

  I don’t know what would have made her think that. If I was home and there was a chance I could see my wife naked, of course I was going to join her.

  “I always do.”

  Kissing her neck, I brought her back against my chest. My hands moved slowly up her waist until I reached her breasts. Her head lolled back against my collarbone, relaxing at my touch. It was not often that I got to touch her like this and enjoy the feeling of her skin against mine without having to rush.

  Lily moved, turning around completely and then pressed her back to the tile, shifting her hips to one side. My eyes traveled the length of her body, drinking in every curve I knew so well. She was beautiful and she knew it. She gave me that pouty look she was so good at, the one that made me weak and quite honestly, my dick hard.

  Reaching forward, she grabbed me by my shoulders and placed one leg up on the wall giving me a full view of where I desperately wanted to be right then. I willingly went forward, my hips pressed to hers eagerly.

  “We don’t have a condom.” My lips were at her neck and collarbone, the spray from the shower practically blinding me. I moved her slightly so the water was out of my face.

  “That’s okay.”

  Lily wanted another baby, wanted to try for a girl. I didn’t care either way. If it made her happy, it was fine by me. Yeah, the more kids we had, the harder it was. I loved kids though and would do anything to make Lily happy. Anything.

  I groaned when I entered her. My right hand curled under her left thigh, and dug into her flesh, squeezing tightly. When her head fell back against the tile and her arms wrapped around my shoulders a little tighter, I lost myself a little. That was until she pushed back on me, had me pull out so she could twist around and give me a full view of the ass that haunted me as a teenager. The same ass that she grinded against me in the backseat of my dad’s truck when I was fourteen until I came in my pants while my brother slept next to us.

  I held onto her hips as I entered her, my grip slipping from the spray of water now cascading down her back.

  She was unbelievably sexy and it was everything I could do not to hold back and finish. My grip kept slipping from the water, but with her ass in my view it didn’t matter. I heard her moan over the steady hit of the water, her hands slapping against the tile wall. She looked back at me, her wet hair clinging to the side. One hand moved from her ass and to her hair, wrapping my hand around it. She loved that kind of thing.

  The moment I gave it a tug, she moved one leg up on the bench to allow me better access. I slammed into her repeatedly until I couldn’t stop myself. I was about to come and I knew she was, too. Being married for seven years gave me the pleasure of knowing what my wife enjoyed and what every little moan meant. This one meant I was hitting just the right spot, with just the right about of pressure.

  Her head fell forward, and I knew by the way her body shook against mine, she was done for. With a groan, my hands tightened, driving into her a few more times before I met my release.

  Lily stood, turning around to face me again, her arms moving from my chest over my shoulders to pull me into her. I pressed her hard into the wall, not too hard, but enough that she grunted, my mouth and hands holding her in place. “I love you.”

  I’d say it over and over again, just so she knew.

  Only she did. She always did.

  Lily sighed, breathless against my lips. “I love you, too.” Her hand reached between us and palmed my dick, still hard. “Can we go again? You’ll be gone for a week.”

  I turned the shower off. “I can definitely go again, but I want you in a bed.”

  She had no complaints there.

  Hours later, I was listening to her soft breathing against my chest and wondering what it was about the photograph that bothered me so much back at the restaurant. Images from Knoxville flashed in my head and I knew this would be another sleepless night.

  Was it because the fear of that being me was a reality?

  The fear of leaving my family behind when they needed me?

  Instantly, I remembered one of the very last conversations I had with Grandpa Jimi the night he died. It was right after I found out he was racing in Frost Nationals with me.

  “Does Grandma know your old ass is racing?” Lane asked, nudging Grandpa in the ribs as he pulled his racing suit over his broad shoulders getting ready for hot laps.

  “Boy,” he drawled out slowly with a smirk I hadn’t seen in a while, “your Grandma would never question why I wanted to get back in the car.”

  “She doesn’t get scared?” I asked, standing next to them, my dad followed behind me.

  “Women who marry racers love them for who they are and never question why they get behind the wheel. And when it all falls apart, they are right there, putting the pieces together again.”

  Lily

  Blend Line - The painted line defining the exit from pit lane where it rejoins the race track. It prevents emerging race cars from driving into race traffic travelling past the pits. Competitors are penalized for crossing the blend line, ensuring cars have attained full racing speed before rejoining the race.

  MY MOM USED TO tell me that being the wife of a race car driver could be both the most exhilarating and exhausting of times. She used to say, “It’s all about balance, Lily. You gotta know when they need you, and when they need you to give them space to figure things out on their own.”

  For a while, I didn’t understand what that meant. Give them space? To do what?

  It was hard for me to understand when Axel needed space to figure things out on his own.

  When I woke up the morning of Jonah’s first t-ball game, to find Axel sitting on the dock watching the sunrise on the lake with Jack, I thought maybe that was what she was talking about. I’d known for a while that Axel was struggling with something he wouldn’t say, but when I asked, he’d just smile and say he was tired, or ignore it.

  I knew in my heart it was more than that. Something was scaring him.

  Axel was unlike his father in many ways. Where Jameson was the confident never-questioning racer, Axel contemplated his every move before making it. In some ways, it was probably the reason he hadn’t won a championship with the Outlaws yet.

  “I can’t find my
cleats!” Jonah yelled from down the hall. By the sound of shoe after shoe hitting the wall, apparently, he was inside his closet.

  Turning around, I headed down the hall and into his room. I had to laugh at him sitting on the floor with his jersey on, no pants, one sock and looking for his shoes. “Do you think we should find your pants, too?”

  Jonah stood and looked down at his legs with a shrug. “I guess so.”

  Picking up Jacen from his crib, I noticed Jonah’s cleats were in the crib. Jacen smiled at me, knowing that Jonah was looking for them. While Jacen may have only been two, he was incredibly smart when it came to subtly teasing his brothers.

  Jonah spotted the cleats right away. “Hey! You took those on purpose!”

  Setting Jacen on the changing table to get him dressed, Jonah retrieved his cleats and ran down the hall. “Don’t forget your pants.”

  His feet slid on the hardwood as he backtracked into the room to find his pants and then the missing sock. It was always an event trying to get the boys ready to go anywhere. Probably the same reason why it was difficult for me to take them all to the track. While one might be ready to go, the other is stripping their clothes off or just simply doesn’t want to go.

  It wanted to be the supportive wife and cheer my husband on at every race. But I didn’t always have the time and I wanted the boys to have somewhat normal lives. Not ones where every weekend we were in a different state and their home was a traveling motorhome.

  Having them at the track made me nervous, too. So much goes on around those cars that while the boys are young and curious, they’re in your sight one minute and gone the next. It just wasn’t safe and I knew when Axel was at the track, his attention wasn’t on their safety. It was on his job.

  When I had two of the boys ready, I got them outside in the car and yelled for Axel in the backyard. He came running up the side of the house with Jack, racing him to the car. Their laughter said it all and I knew I needed to let Jack spend more time with him despite my fears. He needed his father around.