by Shey Stahl
The next one that surprised me was Cole, fresh out of jail, drinking again. Only his speech gave a lot of us hope that he’d turned his life around, finally. “I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused my family…but there’s one person who is always there for me even when I’m at my lowest.” He turned to Casten and raised his drink. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
Casten and Cole had a special bond, formed mostly from their mistakes as kids, but still, there was a bond, and Cole needed that. I still wanted to kick his ass when he ran his mouth to the media about Rager and I, but I also understood that was Cole. Nothing I said was going to make a difference.
Rager raised an eyebrow, entertained by the speeches being given and reached for Abigale as she walked by. “You’re dancing with me, pretty princess.”
Seeing those two dancing together was by far my favorite part of the night. Rager had always been the light in her eyes since she was a baby, and now that he had his own babies, she felt a little pushed aside. I was glad to see they had their little moments still, times when he let her know she was always a part of his life.
The fact that Rager held so many girls in his heart made me melt for him. He really was the perfect man to me.
Telemetry - is the highly automated communications process by which measurements are made and other data collected at remote or inaccessible points and transmitted to receiving equipment for monitoring
I BOUGHT A ring.
A wedding ring.
One that I intended to place on Arie’s finger. A place where it would stay forever.
“Someday, I’m going to place a ring on that finger and it’s going to stay there forever.”
My first thought when I knew I was going to propose to Arie was, is it too soon? She’d only been divorced for a few months. But then again, she was my girl for a hell of a lot longer that she was his. So that had me thinking. I didn’t want to think about that day, but I thought of when she told me she was marrying Easton.
“Easton proposed to me.”
Wind kicked up blowing her wild mess of hair in her eyes, shielding my view of the green staring back at me.
Mine closed, the guilt, the punch to the chest settling over me. Say something. Tell her. Convince her not to. She’s yours man, own up to it.
Swallowing over the lump forming, my eyes dropped to the ground. Could it be that everything I’d ever wanted was gone? I lost my chance. I lost her. Hell, I lost me.
“Will he make you happy?” My lips moved over the words, pushed out with a heavy sigh.
Tears threatened and she blinked them away, nodding but never giving me the words. Maybe she knew an answer would tear me apart.
“What about us?” She whispered into the night.
“You win.” Raising my hand to touch the side of her face, I gave her a weak smile. “My promise will always stand. I’ll be anything you need me to be.”
I never did give up on that promise.
And then my thoughts centered on Jack and that night that changed the way I felt about Arie. The hours after the accident when I was holding her in my arms, wishing away tears, breaking hearts pressed together as one.
“I wish I could take this pain away for you.” I cried with her, praying this wasn’t real, but knowing it was.
I knew when he passed away that I couldn’t wait any longer.
What if I never had the chance to tell her how I felt?
So now again, I thought to myself, what if I never had the chance to marry her?
The idea of never being able to call her my wife wasn’t an option. I couldn’t wait to say those words.
I spoke to Jameson first, asked his permission, which he willingly gave right away. That may have been a thing of the past, but I believed in it and wanted his approval.
“What’s got you all weird?” he asked as we sat in the shop one morning.
Own up man. Tell him your intentions. Don’t be a pussy.
“I want to marry your daughter.”
And then I waited for him to say something, tell me I wasn’t good enough, or fire me.
He shrugged. “Okay, ask her then.”
“Okay…” That was so much easier than I imagined.
Did he really just give me permission?
And then he went onto say, “I know you love her, and I know if anyone will treat her right, it will be you.”
He had that right.
Though I felt good leaving the shop that morning, I needed one more approval. Or at least to tell her.
Abigale. The Pretty Princess.
She had it in her head she was going to marry me, but that wasn’t even an option, obviously.
Still, I wanted to involve her. Make her feel like she was part of this.
“I’m going to ask Arie to marry me,” I told her over breakfast one morning after we placed flowers on Jack’s grave. “What do you think?”
Abigale rolled her eyes and handed me potted flowers, but then I noticed she was crying.
“Pretty princess…” I chuckled, setting her on my lap. “Don’t cry.”
“I thought you were going to marry me.” She sobbed into my chest.
“I’m twenty-five years older than you.” I whispered kissing the top of her head.
She didn’t see the significance behind that. “So…”
“I’m the same age as your dad.”
Maybe then she’d realize how weird it was.
She thought about that for a moment, and then shrugged, sweeping away tears with her tiny hand. “That’s okay. I have a boyfriend now.”
Raising an eyebrow, I gave her a disapproving look. The idea of Abigale having a boyfriend scared the shit out of Lane and me both. As far as I was concerned, Abigale, Gray and Bristol would never date. Ever. “Who?”
“His name is Mason. He races quarter midgets. He’s seven.”
“I’m gonna need to meet this guy,” I told her, winking.
She smiled back at me, tenderly. “When are you going to ask her?”
I pressed my fingertips to my lips, urging her to keep the secret. “When I’m ready.”
I didn’t know when that would be, but I knew when the moment was right, I would know.
AFTER DROPPING ABIGALE off, I made my way back to the house around six, in time to see that Arie had made dinner. She didn’t cook all that much, because when we were home, we were either doing laundry, packing for the next trip, or spending some time with the kids.
The smells of barbecued meat filled the home. Fresh garlic, sweet tangy sauce, and what smelled like berries. Arie knew my favorite dessert was blackberry cobbler with ice cream. I could eat that every day of my life and be a perfectly happy man.
Walking through the door, I set my keys on the table, smiling at the memory of Arie laid out before me on it, naked, and then walked down the hall to the kitchen and family room.
Both kids were on the floor, one in the kitchen crawling around and the other in the family room, sitting with the remote as his chew toy. Pace put just about everything in his mouth.
While Bristol wouldn’t let Arie out of her sight, Pace was an explorer. Once he learned to crawl, you never saw him. Kid could disappear so quickly you wouldn’t know it. I once turned to fix his cereal one morning and then turned back around and he was upstairs already. Fast little guy.
Pace spotted me the moment I walked in, his eyes lighting up. Let me tell you, nothing was better than seeing my son’s eyes light up when I walked into a room. Only thing better was seeing his sister, my angel baby girl, crawl as fast as she could over to me too.
“I take it you missed me,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around the two of them, lying flat on my back.
“Bababababa...” Pace cooed, drool coating his chin. Tiny arms and legs squirmed around until both were on my chest, bright blue eyes peering down at me. Their smiles provoked my own. Couldn’t help it around them. Their tiny faces so lit up with love did that to you, no matter how hardened you were. In a strange way,
I saw a lot of Jack in both of them. Small things, like a facial expression or the way they liked to hold your hand. And in a strange way, it was comforting.
Blinking sweetly, Bristol placed her chubby little hand on my mouth, wanting me to blow on it. She loved to be tickled, waited for it even. When I did blow out a whooshed breath against the softest skin imaginable, she cackled to the point where her peachy, plump cheeks turned pink. That in turn had Pace laughing. And me.
“I can always tell when you come home.” Arie crossed her arms over her chest, leaning into the doorframe.
Raising my head up off the floor, I peeked up at her. “Why’s that?”
“They start laughing like that. They don’t laugh for me like that.”
“Sure they do.”
“Nope.” Arie shook her head, smiling. “They like you better than me.”
“Well, I am cooler.”
“And arrogant.”
“That too.” I maneuvered both babies so I could stand up with them in my arms. Walking over to where Arie stood in the kitchen, I pressed my chest to her, getting right in her face. Pace immediately leaned forward, bumping his head against Arie’s forehead while Bristol wasn’t letting go of me, her arms tight around her daddy’s neck.
Daddy? Yeah, that was an amazing word to say now. Now…husband…that’d be cool too.
“Miss me?”
She hummed, thinking it over. “Maybe. I did make you dinner.”
“It smells good. You’re quite the homemaker, aren’t you?”
“For you…I try.”
Though I didn’t want to, the comment made me think of her doing this same thing for Easton. My heart thumped a little louder, a reminder of the memories.
Sometimes I felt weird being in this house with her, when it was one she shared with Easton. I wanted something of our own, but Arie loved this house and that it was next door to Lane and Bailey. That I understood, so for her, we stayed here.
As I watched her preparing dinner and getting the babies into their high chairs, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out asking her too much longer.
SUMMER NATIONALS AT Williams Grove Speedway was one of my favorite tracks because of the memory, just like Grays Harbor would always hold a special memory for my parents. Or the way Cottage Grove and Knoxville were tracks that our family had a hard time going to.
They all tied memories to a specific point in our lives where we changed. Evolved. Became a different person from the one we once were.
As summer began, Rager had been acting a little strange. He was watching me more, attentive, an amazing father, but I still couldn’t place the change and when it occurred. Some people, like my mother or even Bailey, noticed the change when the twins were born. He wasn’t as aggressive on the track.
That night at Williams Grove, Rager looked nervous and that wasn’t something I saw often. He kept walking around the pit, looking over his car, then to me and back to the car. Mom even noticed and placed her hand on his back and said something in his ear.
What are they doing?
Rager smiled at her softly, and then gave a nod, agreeing to what she asked.
Looking down at the kids playing in the dirt, Mom picked up the both of them. “Bath time, you little monsters.”
Without saying anything more, Mom took Pace and Bristol with her, giving Rager a smile and disappeared inside the motor home. When they passed by me, I kissed their cheeks.
“What’s going on?” I asked Rager when he took my hand and led me out to turn four to sit on the wall.
He didn’t say anything, but a smile was there, gently pulling at the corners of his mouth.
I stared at him, his face, lips, the dark scruff over his jaw and the way his hair fell in his eyes and the confident way he held himself. His skin glistened under the track lights casting an orange tint over us.
Shifting his eyes from mine to the track, the smile faded as a memory came to mind. “When I was little, this was the first track I ever went to. July 25, 2008. I still remember the day. I sat right here after the main event and thought to myself, I want to race here. I want to be like that guy. I was seven years old and this driver came out here and owned the place like he did this every single day. Word got around who he was and I had met him that night.” Every word he spoke was brand new to me. Most didn’t know much about Rager because he was so silent all the time, observing, watching. Only now he was giving me a piece of himself he might not have given anyone, ever. “I begged my dad to take me into the pits after the race.”
I kept quiet wondering where all this was going.
Rager sighed, a chuckle to the breathy sound breathed out almost like he was amused. “He was surrounded by fans, like fifty people, and could barely move. To his left, smiling, was his wife with three kids, two standing beside her and one on her hip. When I got to him, his kids stared at me and everyone else, probably wondering why all these people were surrounding their dad like that. I remember thinking, did they not see that race? Do they not see the magic he has about him?” Rager looked at me, as if he was asking me the question, but I was at a loss as to what or who he was talking about. “Anyways, I got to him and handed him my poster, but didn’t say anything. He got down to my level and smiled, signing my poster and then gave me this hat he had on. Looking at it, I noticed it said JAR Racing on it.”
My eyes welled up with tears immediately. He’d met my dad when he was just a child. He was the one responsible for Rager’s addiction to speed. I should have known.
Tipping his head, his eyes drifted to mine, lazy even, but shinning so bright with his smile.
I couldn’t help the wide smile that graced my lips. It felt like somehow, destiny had played a role in all this. Rager was meant to meet my dad back then and get into racing.
“Who was he?” I asked, wanting the confirmation.
Rager reached inside his wallet and pulled out a folded up poster, wrinkled and worn over the years, and I knew immediately whose signature that was. My dad’s.
“Weeks later, my dad had a quarter midget for me,” Rager went on to explain.
Raising my hands, I swiped the tears away from the corner of my eyes. “Have you ever told anyone that story?”
“My parents know,” his head dipped forward, “and now you.” Turning to face me, he took both my hands in his calloused ones, his thumbs rubbing over my knuckles. “You see, never did I think I would be racing for him someday or that the little girl holding onto her mama’s leg, would be the girl, twenty years later, holding my kids asleep in the pits.”
The fact that he trusted me with that story meant a lot. Meant he trusted me in the ways he needed to.
TWO WEEKS AFTER our trip to Williams Grove, we were home in Mooresville for a few days before heading to New York. I was waiting on Rager to get home that night and he still wasn’t there by eleven.
After putting the kids to bed, I called his cell phone only to have it go to voicemail. Another hour passed and I was panicking. What could possibility be taking him this long?
Shortly after one that morning, he came home, smelling of beer and I smiled. “Late night?”
His boyish smile weakened me. “Sorry.”
“Why were you so late tonight?” It struck me as odd that he was gone so long.
“I got caught up with Jameson. We were talking about set-ups and we went out for a beer.” He smiled, sitting down at the kitchen table with me. The same table he had me laid across about a year ago. Winking, he knocked lightly on it, as if to spark a memory. It did.
“Wanna test it out again?”
“Nah,” he spoke slowly, “I have something else in mind.”
“What’s that?”
Leaning back in the chair, Rager reached inside the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ring. A wedding ring. A motherfucking wedding ring.
Sliding the ring across the table, his brow arched.
He wasn’t going to ask. No, that wouldn’t have been Rager. Instead, sliding the ring across
the table was his way. The Rager way. The ring was beautiful, a simple platinum band with a princess cut diamond. He knew I wouldn’t want anything flashy, which meant to me he put some thought into the process.
I smiled and gave him a wink. That was my way. A gesture, an untold answer to anything he’d ever asked when words couldn’t be breathed.
It was the only gesture he needed before he reached for the ring, dropped to his knees beside me, and then moved the kitchen chair I was sitting in to face him, the legs scraping against the tile.
I watched his eyes, his lashes casting shadows over his cheeks before he looked up at me, his finger positioned at the tip of my finger, waiting for the okay.
Nodding again, I couldn’t help but smile that he’d just proposed, and no words were even spoken.
Rager didn’t express his love through words very often. Words didn’t mean nearly as much as the actions.
I watched, carefully, as rough hands slid up my bare legs, sliding me to the edge of the chair. “Say something.”
“What took you so long?”
We stared at each other for a long moment, watching, when he leaned in to kiss me. With his chest pressed to mine, I could feel my heart beating against his as one.
“This ring is exactly where it belongs.” His tongue darted out, sweeping over his bottom lip as he watched me process those words.
“I love you.”
Lazily brushing his lips over mine, his warm mouth curved into a smile. “Can I stick it in your ass yet?”
“No…you gotta marry me first.”
“You’re so unreasonable,” he groaned, pulling me up to a standing position and then sweeping me off my feet and over his shoulder to bite my hip. “I’m just going to tie you up and make you do it.”
He was joking. At least for his sake he better have been.
When he had me on the bed, his body drew back slowly, eyes roaming over my face. “You said yes, right?”
“I said yes.”
Smiling, he leaned in for a kiss, slow, sensual. “Time to consummate this then.”
“That’s only for marriages.” I laughed against his parting lips.
