by Shey Stahl
And now here he was again. Every time it hit me straight in the heart. He was tough, an awe of arrogance that most wished they could muster but he could break, legends could fall and it wasn’t easy to see when they did because you often wondered what it took for someone like my dad to break down and what it would take to put him back together.
He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, lost in his own thoughts so I let him be.
He surprised me when he tipped a beer my way as “Sweet Annie” came on. “Stay?”
I smiled, nearly in tears myself when he knew that this was what I needed. “Okay.”
Taking a seat next to him, we sat in silence watching the ripples of the lake as the lanterns caught reflections that went on forever it seemed, drinking beer almost in sync until the song was finished and he looked over at me.
Tired eyes spoke of a pain I might never understand, a man hardened by a life he loved but loathed. A man knowing he’d never be anything without the woman at his side. I couldn’t imagine walking a mile in his shoes and making the decisions he’s had to make in his life. Losing what he’s lost and seeing what he’s seen. That was my dad though and my mom was his rock, his heart, his entire world. Without her, racing was secondary. Whatever was going on with my mom was something she’d have to tell me. My dad wasn’t going to be the one strong enough to tell me without falling apart himself.
I ended up staying at my parent’s house that night and sleeping in my old room. The next morning I intended on getting up early and heading back to the track.
“How’s mom?”
“Fine. She’s sleeping,” he paused and stared closer at what looked to be a text message. “Fucking Willie…” Dad groaned beside me tossing his phone on the table.
“What?”
“He was arrested last night in Charlotte for indecent exposure. Which means he was probably showing someone his dick or took his pants off in front of the wrong people.”
I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying though because in the stack of mail beside me was that Racers Edge magazine that Shaylee was talking about.
“I can’t believe this shit!” I said flipping through the full cover spread. On the cover was a simple picture, he had his shirt off wearing a pair of boxer briefs and holding his helmet in one hand and a trophy in the other. His head was down but just his eyes were focused on the camera. I knew that look. It’s the look of his determination and persistence.
What pissed me off was when I opened it to the article and saw my husband naked, with only a helmet covering his junk. What. The. Fuck?
Dad wasn’t looking at first and I doubted he even knew about the magazine either or that it had been sitting on his counter. He sighed, his eyes scanning the photos in front of me. “Is he really naked? Christ, I don’t want to see that shit while I’m eating.” He pushed his bowl of cereal away. “Why would you ruin my breakfast like that? That’s rude.”
“Oh please, Rosa ruins your breakfast every morning when she comes in wearing her hot pants.”
Rolling my eyes, I took the magazine back. It was all there. Easton’s amazing body, his tattoo of my name on his chest, his stomach, the sharp defined cut edges of his hips and lower, Oh my God. Everything I saw intimately was on display for everyone else.
“I’m fucking pissed. He never said a word to me about doing this photo shoot!” I said, closing the magazine and tossing it on the floor. “Not one fucking word.”
Dad shrugged standing to take his cereal bowl to the sink. Setting his bowl down he then turned back around leaning back against the counter. His arms crossed over his chest when he spoke. “Is the problem the photos, or that he didn’t ask you?”
I ignored him and asked, “Did you ever pose like that?”
“Well, no,” he smiled. “But I was nearly naked a few times.”
“I just can’t believe this.”
Dad sighed moving from his place at the counter to sit next to me. “Again, what’s the problem, him or the photos?”
“Him.” I said without question. “The photos are too because he never considered to ask me how I would feel about this. How would he like it if I posed nude? I could. I bet Racers Edge would be dying to do a full spread on a legends daughter all grown up.”
“The fuck they will.” Dad said, almost disgusted. “I wouldn’t allow it.” His voice was firm as he leaned back in the chair crossing his arms again.
“Oh my God. You know you’re the only dad who made their daughter wear a long sleeve turtle neck under their dance tutu.”
“I’m sure I’m not the only one that made their daughter to that.” Casten walked in right then, drinking a beer. “I bet he’ll make Gray do that.”
Dad looked at the beer in Casten’s hand and then to me. It wasn’t even seven in the morning. “Well, he’s not a good example obviously.”
“What?” Casten looked at us and then felt the need to explain. “Being a parent is a lot of work. It dehydrates me.”
“Alright, well, I will make her wear it.” Dad deduced, still staring at Casten like he was trying to figure him out.
“Make who do what?” Casten sat down at the table with us and stuck his hand in the cereal box to grab a handful of cereal and then ate it like the fucking Cookie Monster.
Dad watched him like he’d lost his mind, and his shirt. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and no shoes. I kept having to remind myself that Casten wasn’t fifteen any more and was actually an adult yet nothing had changed.
The magazine on the ground caught Casten’s attention. “Wow, E’s getting brave these days. And you are okay with him showing his junk to the world?”
“Fuck you, Casten!” He knew I wasn’t thrilled with those pictures. I caught the magazine with my foot and kicked it aside. “Dad’s gonna make Gray wear a long sleeve turtle neck at all times.” Propping my left elbow on the table, I leaned my head into my palm.
“Why would he make her do that?”
“So no one sees naked photos of her.”
Casten glared at me stuffing another handful of Lucky Charms in his mouth. “Fuckin’ right she’ll wear turtlenecks.” He finished his beer and then put the bottle on the table so he could probably eat his Lucky Charms two fistfuls at a time. “With my looks and Hayden’s body, I’m thinking of putting a chastity belt on her and I’ll be the only one who’ll have the key.”
“Great plan, son, you’ve redeemed yourself from my earlier assumption,” Dad agreed, all the while moving away from Casten as he ate and sprayed small pieces of cereal on the table.
“I feel bad for that poor child.” I said laughing. “Gray and Abigale have no possible chance of having a normal life.”
“Don’t feel bad for her. She kicked me out of my own bed last night. Hayden and I woke up on the floor with her in the middle sprawled out like she owned the goddamn place.”
Hayden called Casten. “I’m gonna kill your dad!” she yelled.
Casten immediately put the phone on speaker. “Oh yeah? Why’s that, honey?”
Dad arched an eyebrow at the phone and smiled, completely amused with himself.
“Casten, there’s bull shit.”
“You mean it’s bullshit what dad did to the house? I completely agree.”
I started laughing, as did dad. “No, asshole. I mean Bull. Shit. Like actual fucking shit.”
Casten glared at dad. “I’ll be right over.”
Casten left and I knew I needed to leave too but that damn magazine caught my attention again.
“So you didn’t post naked but you posed something like that, Dad?”
“Well, no,” he laughed lightly. “I once posed half naked. I don’t think I had a shirt on and the assholes covered me in baby oil. It was awful.”
“Ha. I remember that.”
“I doubt they made Easton do that. They might have but I seriously doubt it. Maybe he was afraid to tell you. Give him the benefit of the doubt and ask him why before you jump to conclusions.” As my dad got o
lder, he became the voice of reason, most of the time, and was starting to remind me of Grandpa Jimi. Years of experience and wisdom behind those racers’ eyes. I already felt a little better just talking to my dad and brother and was grateful that I’d seen the magazine here instead of seeing it for the first time in front of Easton.
Caution – This is a flag waved when there’s debris on the track or a wreck indicating the cars are to slow their speed.
I took my time going back to Charlotte Saturday morning but it was still early. My thoughts were scattered between my mom and Easton and never staying on one or the other for very long.
When I stepped inside the motor coach, I knew something was off when I saw panties on the floor, then a little further, a bra. It threw me because they weren’t mine.
“E?” I called out peeking around the corner to the bedroom.
I heard a woman’s voice next. “E…wake up. Your wife’s here.”
What. The. Fuck?
Next was a thump, and a groan like he jumped up and smacked his head like he always did when he gets out of bed in a hurry.
“What the fuck?” I heard him ask. “What are you doing in here?”
My heart was beating so heavily and I felt the warm gush of adrenaline flood through my face.
Have you ever had that feeling that the next sixty seconds of my life are going to be a defining moment that you will probably not recover from? Yeah, that’s what was rushing through my mind at the moment. My heart and my head knew what I was about to see. My eyes and my limbs didn’t want to function, didn’t want to walk up and push the door open to see what I knew I was going to see but there was no avoiding it. Damn you, Easton, for causing this sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach and for causing this irreparable tear in my heart. Just damn you. I went to where the voices were. My body was moving on its own and my heart was already weeping before I’d even confronted them.
I heard him scramble around back there as I was opening up the door. He was knocking shit over to get to the front of the motor coach where I was standing before I could walk in on him. I watched him shaking and wondering what the fuck happened last night. Amazingly, I was shaking and wondering what the fuck happened last night as well.
There’s something that stopped me when I looked up at him watching me, it’s the confusion on his face and the way he looked. Heartbroken. He looked at Shaylee and then Olivia, both naked and then back to me.
His face was pure white, stone silent. When I turned around, he snapped out of his trance wrapping a sheet around his waist to follow me. “Arie, wait!”
When I got to the door, he grabbed my hand. “I have no idea what happened. I was drinking with Brody in the pits and then I woke up to you standing there.” He shook his head, gasping, as if he was trying to remember. “I don’t know how they got in here. I left the door unlocked for you.”
I looked down and saw the box of condoms, a few empty wrappers, and wanted to puke.
Had I let this happen? Had I pushed him away? Was it me? Why do women always blame themselves for situations like this? It wasn’t me waking up to two naked men in my bed.
So many thoughts were going through my mind, trying to find a justification for this that I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying to me.
I see those girls. I know what they want. They want him. They want Easton. They want my life. They want my walk down the grid holding his hand and my million dollar home. They want my cars, my ring, my clothes, everything about my life.
They want my husband’s hands on them and his dick between their legs.
You know what I say to them now?
Fucking have it.
I didn’t give him a chance to explain. I wouldn’t. There should have been no reason why they were in there. No reason at all. And no explanation was going to right this situation.
“Where are you going?” I could hear the girls in the back, whispered words I wanted to shove down their throats. You can fucking have him, ladies. Enjoy!
“I’m leaving,” I said, shoving clothes in my bag.
“Please, no…” he looked at me right then, eyes panicked, his hands frantically pulling his jeans on and tossing the sheet on the couch.
“You expect me to stay? I can’t stay here and do this every time.”
“This has never happened before,” he defended, yanking a shirt over his head.
“It shouldn’t have happened even once, asshole!” I growled, so angry I couldn’t even see him through the tears forming. “Ever. You know that.”
I went home. Only I didn’t go home. I went to my second home…the dirt track.
It hurts when you fall and even harder when there’s no one there to catch you.
I don’t know what’s leading me, but I left. If I was honest, I was looking for a reason and I found it. If I thought about it, there’s sounds in my head even I don’t understand. Thoughts I can’t make sense of and I was blaming it on my surroundings. I was blaming him. Easier to blame him than blame myself.
When you’re in clean air, your engine is cool in clean air. When you’re surrounded by cars, there’s no clean air. It’s full of bumping and banging, dirty, hot air. Your car heats up and sooner or later you need to find clean air so you can get that cool air in the radiator.
If that water temp continues to rise, sooner or later you’re gonna have to release that pressure. If you don’t, your engine will overheat.
I was overheating.
I took a commercial flight to Cincinnati and called Lily for a ride. She came and got me right away without question. Well, kind of.
“I’m assuming because you’re here and not at the 600 that something went wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She shrugged pulling her thick blonde hair back into a messy ponytail before starting the car. “Fair enough.”
Jacen was screaming in the back seat. It wasn’t like she could hear me if I did tell her what happened. “Where’s Jack and Jonah?”
“With Hayden at the track…” she paused. “We should probably get back soon.”
I laughed, it felt strange after crying the entire flight.
We were at the track about forty-five minutes later and it felt right.
There’s something about dirt track racing that I find comforting. It’s home. It’s that feeling I got that night in Charlotte when I snuck over to the dirt track. Maybe it’s my family, or maybe it’s just the atmosphere. Whatever the magical ingredients were, I was home.
It’s dirt track racing. It’s a legend on the last lap, a champion pushing up the cushion, a rookie riding the rail, won’t settle for second and out of control. It’s an inversion or the last chance showdown. Wide-eyed to the aggressive, pill draws, heats and trophy dashes. It’s all about the A-Feature and 4-Wide. It’s the bullrings to the half mile. Dry slick, tracky or glazed over, slide jobs, hugging the rail, pushing the cushion. It’s full throttle, no lifting, only left. Dirt track racing is the feeling you get sliding into three and four to take the win and doing the wing dance. It’s battling from twenty third to first, feeling racey or roosted and wheel stands. Like I said, it’s dirt racing. Top groove, high groove, reeling in legends and rookies facing fear, fueled by speed, adrenaline and desire. There’s nothing else like it.
I had turned off my phone on the flight but when I got to the track, I turned it back on to see sixteen voicemails from Easton and something like fifty text messages.
I didn’t open a single one. Just tossed my phone in my purse and ignored it. He really didn’t want to talk to me right now because I guarantee if he did, I’d be filing for divorce come Monday. I was that mad over this.
As soon as I stepped foot from Lily’s car, the sound put me at ease.
I loved the sound. That thunder when you’re in the pits and you hear one get on the track. You feel it in your heart and bones, a roar that leaves you breathless, wanting and needing more.
The entire atmosphere here is different. Ther
e’s no pressing media hounding you at a dirt track or the day-to-day pressure of all the bullshit that has nothing to do with racing and everything to do with corporate financial obligations. There’s pressure to win, sure, but nothing like what you’re seeing in NASCAR. There’s not as much money on the line. Money makes the world go round and NASCAR knows it.
During the heats I went inside Axel’s hauler where Lily and Hayden were.
Parked side by side, six haulers lined the far left of the pit entrance where the JAR Racing boys were. Always parked together. When I walked inside the hauler Lily and Hayden were both talking about Casten and how inappropriate he is at times. This is nothing new. He’s always been this way but his favorite suspect is Axel, because he’s embarrassed so easily.
“Casten told Jack he got Hayden pregnant with his balls.” Lily said, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the day, and constantly running around after three kids.
“Why’d he say that?” I asked sitting on the counter beside a tire iron. “Way to confuse the kid. He’s five.”
“Yeah, well,” Lily continued to try to change Jacen’s diaper but he wasn’t having it and kicked and screamed. “He told him when he was four. He went through a stage after Jacen was born where he kept asking Axel if his balls were exhausted.”
“And Axel said?”
“You know your brother. He avoided the question like he didn’t ask. He gets really awkward when you talk about anything bodies or anything sexual in nature. Had a hard time even being in the delivery room with all of the boys.”
“Oh I know. When I was fourteen and started my period his face turned red. Mom made him buy me tampons when he wrecked her car as punishment.”
“The fuck you will!” I heard Charlie holler at Casten who was standing beside Shane, another Outlaw driver and Axel’s best friend.
Charlie kicked dirt at Casten and turned around to walk away. Shane shook his head and walked away leaving Casten to walk toward us with my dad following him, laughing.
“What’s the deal between you two?” I asked wondering why Charlie was pissed.