Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  Jameson and I sat there on the tailgate of his Ford F-250 watching the cars whip around the track kicking up a cloud of dirt that hovered over the track in a thick layer. After a few laps, the cars came back into the infield where Tommy took notes. Jameson made his way towards them as Justin offered his feedback to Tommy.

  Looking out over the track, I was reminded of how simple racing used to be for him. Now, it was far from that.

  Heavy footsteps caught my attention, my eyes scanned the distance for the listless that contrasted the bellowing thunder of the engines that filled the air just moments ago.

  Jameson approached with a beer in hand. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly when he heard the sharp growl of a 410 sprint roaring to life. The sound really was addicting.

  Securely seated next to me once again, we watched the car drift smoothly through the turns. My focus was more on Jameson as he observed the way the cars jerked sideways on the front stretch.

  His long fingers grasped the neck of the beer bottle gauging a group of bystanders waiting for a glimpse of him. It seemed news spread that Jameson was here. Reality was waiting for him.

  Instead, he looked beyond them bringing the beer to his lips. Before taking a drink, he sighed. “I miss this.” He tipped his head towards the track.

  I nodded knowing my remarks weren’t needed, he knew I understood.

  The bottle in his hand drifted my direction. “Thirsty?”

  Shaking my head, I curled my legs up to me chest wrapping my arms around them as a breeze blew across the dirt. Times like this, I understood why I saw that vulnerability in him. He longed for the clouds and drizzle of the Northwest and a time where all he knew was sprint cars as that’s where this dream of racing formed.

  I still saw that side of Jameson emerge racing in the cup cars but now it was overshadowed by the dramatics of it all.

  Aside from the day at track earlier in the week, Jameson had absolutely no free time during the day so that meant I spent my days with Emma.

  By Thursday, I was contemplating killing myself as drastic as that sounded. I could only handle her for a few hours at a time before I needed a nap to recoup.

  The only thing that made everything better was spending the evening with Jameson, wrapped in his arms, without an inch of space.

  There were times late at night, after he’d fallen asleep, where I just watched him sleep. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how much I wanted this to work, and how much I didn’t want to leave next week.

  Knowing I spent the last few years attending college so I would be in a position to help my dad, I had obligations now. Charlie needed me there to help.

  As it was, he only had a handful of staff there to help. When you’re running an entire track with only four people, you needed all the help you could get.

  Once we arrived in Brooklyn Michigan, Jameson, putting aside the events of last weekend’s fine, was in race mode again and focused on racing. Being one of his favorite tracks his mood improved.

  Michigan International Speedway was a two-mile moderately banked D-shaped superspeedway. Some even refer to it as the sister track to Texas World Speedway because of its wide racing surface and high eighteen degree banking. It’s extremely fast with the average speed entering the corners around two hundred and five miles per hour due to its wide sweeping corners and long straight-aways.

  On Friday, Jameson had just left to qualify, which left me with Emma, Nancy, Alley, and Jimi in the garage area.

  “Emma, honey, it’s like ninety five degrees. Take that damn scarf off.” Nancy said as she pulled on the bright red scarf Emma had been wearing since we left Pocono.

  “No, that’s okay.” Emma tried to say but it was useless when the red scarf fell to the ground beside her. As luck would have it, she had her back turned to Jimi, giving her parents a full view of her Trash-R-Us token.

  You couldn’t miss the sharp intake of breath both Jimi and Nancy inhaled at the sight of their youngest child’s neck.

  Emma slowly turned around with panic-stricken eyes to meet Jimi’s enraged eyes.

  It took him a moment to be able to speak but when he did, they entire garage area turned and gawked.

  “Emma Lynn Riley, what the fuck is that on your neck?” Jimi shouted.

  Various members of Jameson’s crew chuckled knowing what Emma had done last week. Though this was news to her parent’s, most everyone else had discovered the tattoo.

  Jimi flipped out and started yelling at the top of his lungs towards poor little Emma, who then began to cry, and not just any crying, it was a bawling sort of cry.

  “Dad...calm down...it’s not that big of a deal.” She made an effort to down play it. “I’ll just grow my hair out. Why are you so upset?”

  He gasped. “Why am I upset? You kids...I refuse to believe that my DNA was a part of...something like this.” He was pacing across the concrete floor in the space Jameson’s car had just been. “First we have Spencer who draws dicks on hotel walls and tattoo’s his ass. Then we have Jameson who obviously needs to be medicated or some shit, and then there’s Emma, who tattoos her goddamn neck with something you’d see on a hooker!”

  Nancy backhanded his shoulder. “Jimi calm down! It’s not that big of deal.”

  “Not that big of a deal?” He seethed and then his expression changed. “I don’t think they’re my kids. That’s it, I don’t think they are...” his voice trailed off as he stomped away.

  Nancy attempted to comfort Emma and her obsessive crying. I just stood there against the wall shaking my head.

  It was never a dull moment around the Riley family.

  Eventually Jameson returned from his qualifying run, he got the pole naturally so he was in good spirits.

  As soon as he pulled himself from the car, Liz Clayton, a reporter with Fox Sports, was directly in his face. “Jameson, you got the pole, how’d you do it?”

  Jameson leaned back against his car and chuckled at the invariable question. “It was tough. I knew we got through one and two fast and uh...I knew we were awesome getting into three. I had three lanes to choose from. The one I chose didn’t really work but...I still ended up on the pole so I guess it did work. I felt like we were kinda tight in three and then I was a little free off but it was because I hit the throttle too soon trying to get back to the line, it worked though.” He gave a quick shrug. “It’s nice for this whole Riley Simplex Racing Team. The guys did a good job, gave me an awesome car out there and to get the pole here at a track I love is awesome.”

  “Have you and Darrin had a chance to talk about last week?” Liz asked searching for a feature story.

  Way to put him in a bad mood.

  “No,” His expression changed instantly, the casual tone no longer present. “We won’t be talking about it. There’s nothing to say.” Jameson walked away over to Kyle and Mason with their clipboards.

  Kyle congratulated him so I made my way over since he seemed to be smiling again.

  “Congratulations.” I said hip checking him.

  “Thanks.” Jameson replied giving me his lopsided grin he was so good at. “Do you want to get some dinner in a little while?” he asked checking his phone. “I have an autograph session but after that we can go somewhere.”

  “Sure.”

  “Nice run Jameson.” A man said from behind.

  We both turned around to see Tate Harris and Andy Crockett, Tate’s teammate with Banner Racing, standing next to Jameson’s car.

  Andy Crockett was a name I heard a lot these days. He was another driver that was easy on the eyes and raked up a string of wins earlier in the season.

  “Thanks.” Jameson reached for his hand to shake it.

  Tate noticed me standing beside Jameson. “Oh—hey Sway. How have you been?”

  “I’m good Tate.” I smiled. “Nice to see you again,”

  “Have you met my teammate Andy Crockett?” Tate nudged Andy. “He drives the No. 6 Miller Machinery car.”

  “It’s
nice to meet you.” Andy and I shook hands while Jameson slung his arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards him.

  “How’s your dad feeling Sway? Did he—”

  Jameson cleared his throat and let out a half cough that sounded strange.

  Huh?

  Drawing my attention back towards Jameson, he shifted uncomfortably beside me. He and Tate exchanged a loaded glance before Jameson smiled down at me.

  “He’s fine.” I said softly, not sure what that look was all about or why Tate would be asking about my dad, or why Jameson now looked like he’d just saw a ghost.

  “Yeah, so good luck tomorrow, Jameson.” Tate said quickly and walked away with Andy.

  “What was that about?” I looked at Jameson. “Why would he ask about Charlie?”

  Jameson didn’t answer right away just stared at me as if he was trying to make sense of what I just asked. “Uh...I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to know.” He mumbled and then looked at the time on his phone. “Listen...” he pulled me against his chest for a hug. “I have to get to the autograph session.” And he pulled away without another word and walked with Alley towards the grandstands.

  What the hell just happened?

  I’m so confused.

  Why would Tate ask about Charlie?

  Being paranoid, I decided to call Charlie but of course, it was Saturday night, he didn’t answer.

  When Jameson returned from the autograph session, he was still acting rather strange and cancelled dinner because he said he had a meeting with Simplex so that left me hanging out with Emma, Aiden, and Spencer while Jameson and Alley left with Jimi to meet Marcus.

  We kept ourselves busy playing Wii Tennis for four hours straight but that ended when Spencer got upset that Aiden and Emma were supposedly cheating and he threw the remote through Jameson’s flat screen TV in his motor coach.

  I did not want to be here when that was explained but thankfully, when Jameson returned, he was too tired to notice the TV.

  On race day, Jameson returned to his hothead self once again; as I’m sure, the fines and probation were now heavy on his mind from the constant media attention. They forget nothing.

  Not long into the race, he took his vexations out on Kyle.

  “Hey, you know what would be really helpful, Kyle?”

  “What?”

  “Just shut the fuck up and let me drive,” Jameson seethed into the radio. “let’s try that!”

  This had been going on for a while, Kyle and Jameson arguing back and forth. Darrin and Jameson were currently battling for first place in the final laps of the race. Jameson had led all but four laps so far and he damn sure wasn’t about to give up the win now.

  “If he has a run, let him go.” Kyle ordered. “NASCAR is watching you.”

  “I’m just racing.”

  “Yeah right,”

  Knowing he was just instigating, Kyle finally stopped baiting Jameson and let him finish out the last few laps. He knew, as well as most inside the inner circle, the more you push, the more push back you get from Jameson.

  “At your rear; at your door...he’s got a run.” Aiden announced. “Cole’s behind you.”

  “Cole?” Jameson called over the radio.

  “10-4, what’s up?” Bobby asked.

  “Am I lifting out of three?”

  “Not that I can see but I can’t see anything with Darrin all over you.” Bobby said. “I got an idea...I’ll get up behind and take the air off. I’m not on probation.”

  Bobby got behind Darrin, taking the air off him, allowing Jameson to pull away to a one-second lead.

  “All clear bud—coming to the white flag here,” Aiden announced. “Hit your marks.”

  “Nice job Cole, fuck yeah.” Jameson praised heading into clean air. “That’s how you work together.”

  “Go get ‘em dude.” Bobby replied.

  “Last lap here, drive out the windshield, and hit your marks. You got this, bud.” Kyle told him, all the anger he had a few moments ago seemed to dissipate now that Darrin couldn’t catch Jameson. Bobby was all over him trying to keep away, both of them destroying any chance at catching Jameson as they were using their tires up.

  Emma and I were clinging to each other in the pit box once again. I had no fingernails left and Emma was biting her lips so hard it was actually bleeding.

  Kyle and Mason stood up as they came out of turn four to the checkered flag. “Nice job. Nice fucking job Jameson!” Kyle yelled in excitement pumping his fists in the air. “Way to hang in there and battle back.”

  “Yeah!” Jameson screamed over the radio in his own excitement as he took the checkered flag. “Way to go guys!”

  Bobby and Darrin were still battling it out for second but Bobby pulled forward enough to come across the line about a foot in front of him.

  “Nice job everyone,” Jameson said in the cool down laps. “Cole, you’re the man! I owe you one.”

  “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll finish second any day if Darrin doesn’t win.”

  Jameson laughed.

  Of course, my hormones were flaring when Jameson did a burn out right in front of us in the infield.

  There’s nothing this pit lizard loved more than burnouts. Well, now I’m lying but they do get me going.

  Once in victory lane Jameson did his usually jump into his pit crew, post-race interviews and insane amount of pictures.

  We were walking towards the media center where he had the contender’s conference when I finally got a chance to congratulate him.

  “I’m so proud of you.” I told him giving him a squeeze around his waist, his arms draped over my shoulder.

  “Thanks, I think you’re my good luck charm.” Jameson said leaning over to kiss my head.

  Alley, who was in front of us, pushed a group of reporters aside so we could make it through the crowd.

  “Nah, it must be all the sex.” I whispered. “It’s relaxing you.”

  “It’s definitely helping.” He nodded giving me a squeeze, a soft chuckle fell from his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to let you leave. I’ll never survive without you.”

  “You’ll be fine. I hear Dana’s available.”

  He growled in my ear shivering. “Don’t ever joke about that. She is fucking crazy.”

  “What are you going to do?” You couldn’t miss the curiosity in my voice.

  “Count down the days until I see you again.” He answered immediately.

  “Well, you—” I began but was cut off by Darrin walking towards the media center.

  Jameson’s grip around my waist tightened when he noticed him.

  Darrin noticed the possessiveness and let out a dark mischievous chuckle. “I’m not after you’re girl Riley, I’m after you.” His eyes shifted to me. “She’s tempting though.”

  My hothead reacted before I even realized what was happening.

  “Stay the fuck away from her.” Jameson snarled pushing Darrin against the doors to the media center, his forearm nudged under his throat. “I will only warn you once.”

  “Relax Riley,” Darrin said in a strained tone. “Like I said, she’s not what I’m after.”

  Jameson pulled him back and slammed him against the metal doors again. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m warning you.” Darrin struggled against him pushing back.

  Before Jameson could do anything else, crew members from both teams fought to drag Jameson back.

  “Have you lost your goddamn mind Jameson?” Kyle shouted in his face. “What don’t you understand about probation?”

  “Get off me.” Jameson snapped pushing the door open to the media center.

  The contender’s conference was hardly even about the race.

  All the media cared about was the confrontation going on between Jameson and Darrin. They were eating this juvenile bullshit up and Jameson and his quick fuse wasn’t helping.

  It was late by the time we were on the jet back to Mooresville but I was surprised to see Jam
eson’s family took a different jet home. Usually they’d fly together.

  Jameson was quiet just as I expected.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t win by the way he was acting. He seemed so different but I also knew he had a great deal of stress these days.

  “I need to leave next week after Sonoma.” I told him lounging in the oversized captain chairs. “I was going to fly home after the race.”

  He leaned his head back staring out the small oval window, his hands rested folded in his lap. “That’s why we’re going somewhere, alone.”

  “What do you mean, alone?” I asked shifting in my seat to look at him.

  “Alone. No one knows but me and Wes, the pilot.” He clarified glancing over at me with a grin.

  An alarming amount of giddiness followed. You’d think I’d just been asked to prom. “Do I get to know where?” Was my first response.

  “Nope, not until we’re there,” Jameson chuckled at my enthusiasm. “I can’t take any risks. Personally, I’d prefer it if no one else catches us or see’s us naked, ever again.”

  The last time with his dad getting a view of the funbags was the final straw for Jameson. So now, there we sat, my last week of the pit lizards dream, on a jet to god knows where.

  I was so excited I felt as though I was about to burst into giddy pit lizard delight flames. Thankfully I didn’t.

  “I have one condition.” Maintaining my image of control, I reached for my water next to me nonchalantly. “And it’s an important one so listen up.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Where ever we are going, no clothes are allowed once we’re behind doors.”

  Jameson started unbuttoning his white button down shirt yanking it aside. His hands rested on either side on the arm rests on the chair I was sitting in. He was hovering now and I loved the hovering. “Why wait until we get there honey, let’s start now.”

  10. Flat Spot – Sway