by Shey Stahl
“You okay, man?” Jameson asked, setting his phone down.
“Yeah.” I ran my hand through my hair.
“Take one day at a time, kid.” He shifted in the seat, resting his elbow on the door of his truck. “I’ve been where you’re at and it’s not easy to sit at home and heal. And sure as fuck ain’t easy on any relationship.”
If anyone understood what I was going through, it was the man beside me. “I hate that there’s a void between Arie and me now,” I admitted. “And her surgery is coming up. I just… I don’t know how to handle any of it.”
He nodded, chewing on his lip. “Well, that’s to be expected. You both went through something traumatic and now you’re trying to make sense of it.”
With Arie and me, we always connected physically, but emotionally, we struggled to get on the same lap these days. “I’m scared,” I told him. “Scared to get back in the car, to leave her, the kids, and I never ever thought I’d be in that position.”
He stared at the house in the distance, his breathing light and easy. That was when he gave me probably the most inspirational piece of advice he’d ever given me. “Back when you started racing with the Outlaws, what made you good?”
I looked over at him, curious as to where he was going with this. “I don’t know. Seat time?” With the Outlaws, you raced on average of three nights a week. Compared to any other traveling series, that was an incredible amount of seat time and what made us some of the best drivers in the world.
“You’re right. You logged laps, you got a feel for what your car would do in certain track conditions. And you respected what they taught you, am I right?” I nodded, my eyes drifting back to the house as he continued. “You began to understand that at Williams Grove, you can’t run high when the track is glazed over. And at Grays Harbor, if they didn’t water the track enough, it dried out before the mains and was like racing on asphalt. You learned that at Jacksonville Speedway, you weren’t fast unless you were bouncing that right rear off the guardrail in turn four.” He paused and then waited for me to look at him. “No matter how many laps you log, nothing prepares you for when track conditions change. You gotta make adjustments and go from there. Work on a new setup.”
I processed his words and smiled. “Got any pit notes for me?”
He laughed, throwing his head back as he started the truck. “Yeah, get out. I got a girl waiting on me.”
Chuckling, I reached for the door handle. “Thanks, for everything.”
“Rager?” he called out before I got out.
“Yeah?”
“It’s not gonna happen overnight. Believe me. It took months, maybe even years for me to get comfortable again after my accident. It gets easier.”
I hoped he was right. I didn’t want my family suffering from this.
Inside the house, I found Arie making dinner and the kids swimming in the backyard with Rosa. She was on an inflatable unicorn, Tommy and Willie out there with them. Wrapping my arms around Arie, I brought her back to my chest. Pressing my lips to the curve of her neck, I whispered, “I love you.”
She melted into my embrace, her head leaned back against my shoulder. “I love you too.”
I wasn’t sure what changes we needed to make to get through this season, but I knew when I was ready I had the crew to back me.
Twisting around in my arms, Arie leaned into the countertop, her eyes on the backyard. “You need to have a talk with naughty Knox.”
I raised an eyebrow. Last time she said that he’d lit the carpet in the family room on fire with matches he’d found. “Why?”
“He peed on Bristol when she was in the pool. Dropped his swim trunks, whipped it out and peed on her head.”
I wanted to laugh, because it was kinda funny, but I held back. “What’d she say?”
“She called him a bitch.”
“Can’t say I blame her. Do you think he meant to?”
“Oh yeah, he meant to.” Arie laughed. “She wouldn’t let him use the donut floatie. So he peed on her.”
I stepped back, distancing myself and laughed. It was all I could do because I loved that these were our problems now at the moment. Racing took up so much of my head most of the time when we were on the road that it left little room for things like this.
Glancing behind Arie, I noticed she’d been making hamburgers. She passed me the plate. “I’ll finish up in here if you go stick these on the grill and talk to naughty Knox.”
Taking the plate, I leaned in. “Only if you promise to put those lips to work later.”
“Bargaining for sex now, are you?”
I laughed. “I’ll do anything if it gets me lucky.”
“Cook the meat and maybe you’ll get to victory lane tonight,” she told me, winking as she suggestively shook the salad dressing in her hand.
Damn her. I waited a few minutes before I went outside to face the kids, for obvious reasons. Outside, Tommy, Paxton and Rosa were still in the pool trying to teach Pace how to jump off the diving board. His way of jumping was all in, arms flailing and feet kicking and usually ended with him belly flopping.
After putting the burgers on the grill, I found Knox in his time-out chair in the corner having to watch his brothers and sister play. He frowned when he saw me, his scowl earning his nickname. One would think Hudson was our meanest kid, and if I had to compare him and Knox, I’d say Hudson nine times out of ten. But Knox, fuck, that kid knew how to get revenge and mean it. Hence why he peed on his sister’s head.
I sat next to him on the lawn chair and knocked my hand to his knee. “Whatcha in the pits for this time?”
Pouting, he crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Bristol’s mean.”
“Is that why you peed on her?”
He stared at me, as though he couldn’t believe I knew about that and then pointed to Tommy. “He said I could.”
Tommy snorted. “No, I said you could pee outside, not on Bristol.”
Knowing toddlers, I understood where the confusion happened, but it still didn’t mean he should be peeing on people. I scooped him up into my arms, his wet hair soaking my shirt. He smelled like sunscreen and marshmallows. “You gotta be nice to your sister, dude.”
I didn’t have siblings growing up, and probably for a good reason. I was a lot like Hudson and Knox—mean as fuck and didn’t have time for bullshit. He lost interest in swimming and Tommy made his way over to me.
“You ready for nationals?” he asked, shaking the water from his orange hair.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure of the answer. I knew I wanted to be sure, but there was still that fear imbedded deep inside me I couldn’t pinpoint. In a lot of ways I’d convinced myself that once I was back in the car everything else would fall into place.
Tommy nudged my knee with his hand. “Are you supposed to be cooking those burgers, or setting them on fire?”
“Shit.”
Turns out, I couldn’t even cook dinner. See? I needed to get back to racing.
Tuning – Adjusting the parameters of a system in an effort to optimize performance.
Monday morning, Rager was cleared for racing three days before Knoxville Nationals. Eighty-six days after the accident at Eldora. And I was pretty sure the only reason he was cleared was because he went to a doctor he knew would give him clearance. He’d been in the car twice, both times, it was as if he hadn’t missed a beat. Physically. Emotionally, I wasn’t sure that was the case.
Emotionally, I was a wreck too. The same week he was cleared to race, Caden and Kinsley moved to Atlanta where Caden would be doing an inpatient rehabilitation at Shepard Center. While they were waiting for the swelling from his injury to go down, they were hopeful he would regain function in his legs. Maybe not be able to walk much, but you never knew. He’d already regained some feeling in the tops of his thighs, so it was great to hear he’d be going to a specialist.
He talked to Rager a lot. Nearly every day. Along with my dad who paid for them to move to Atlanta and footed the b
ill for his therapy there. And I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t have medical insurance? Believe it or not, the majority of race car drivers don’t have medical insurance, or enough coverage to get them through these kind of events, and even life insurance was tricky to get and not cheap. Caden and Rager both had received close to a hundred thousand dollars from the World of Outlaws Benevolent Fund, but still, it didn’t come close to covering Caden’s medical bills.
Rager and I had purchased extensive medical plans for him, including disability, and they covered most of it. But not all of it. If we hadn’t been in such a good position financially since my divorce from Easton, we would have been struggling. Caden and Kinsley, they were kids just starting out. Sure, Caden made good money racing for JAR Racing, but he wasn’t making NASCAR money, and not nearly enough to cover a month in the ICU.
Without question, anything Caden needed, Dad was right there for him. They’d even been talking about putting hand controls in a sprint car for him. The idea that he might return made me hopeful, but I couldn’t say Rager felt the same way. He knew the reality and the rules surrounding Caden being able to race again. The rules specifically stated a driver had to be able to pull themselves from the car on their own will. Caden might not be able to do that.
With everything happening, I’d forgotten about my surgery. It was set for the day after Knoxville Nationals. I wasn’t nervous about it at all. The surgery that was. I kept reassuring myself it was nothing compared to what we’d been through recently.
With Rager in the car again, I was a basket case of worry and anxiety. I’d never been scared of Rager racing. Sure, I understood what he did for a living was inherently dangerous, but I’d never had that gut fear like I did now.
And maybe it had nothing to do with him racing, but the fact he’d been so distant this last month and we weren’t connecting.
Outside the shop, there was a bustle of activity from cars being loaded to crew guys washing haulers. I stared at Rager’s car and hated that Caden wasn’t here. “It’s August.” Curling into myself, I shivered. Whole body shivers like the one you got when you stepped outside in the winter. “Why is it so cold?”
Willie looked over at me and I knew immediately I shouldn’t have said that with him beside me. “You know, Arie, if we rub our bodies together, it’ll create friction.” And then he proceeded to demonstrate by rubbing his hands together. But I couldn’t imagine it, let alone watch his puppet show.
Rager rolled his head to the side and stared at Willie, but surprisingly, said nothing. Maybe he was too cold to respond himself.
I waited until we were alone, the kids running in and out of the shop bays before I moved closer to Rager. “Are you nervous?”
He shook his head. “No,” he clipped, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt, his eyes on Pace and Knox fighting over who got to ride on the electric dirt bike next.
Knox tried to push him off but then looked back over his shoulder at Rager who gave him the look. The one that said “you push your brother and you’re done.” Knox backed up immediately. He hated to be in trouble with Rager.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I debated whether I wanted to bring this up today while his mind was clearly on Nationals. But then I blurted, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about after the surgery.”
His eyes landed on mine. “What about it?”
“I think after the surgery I’m going to stay home for the final West Coast swing,” I told him. “They said the recovery time is usually a couple weeks, but I don’t think traveling all that way would be good.”
His brows knitted together, his eyes on the kids behind me. “That’s an entire month.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone for that long.”
I swallowed nervously. “I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have my mom with me. And Rosa.”
He snorted at the mention of Rosa, but I could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders he didn’t like the idea of me not being on the road with him. And he was restless at home, never sitting still and needing to be moving. Hell, last week he fertilized our lawn. He’s never even mowed our lawn.
I glanced at our motor home in the distance, our T-shirt trailer all loaded up and ready. My eyes landed on Rager again as he stood there staring at me. “Are you ready?”
“For your surgery or racing?”
I shifted my stance. “Both, I guess.”
“One more than the other.” And then he walked away without giving me a true answer.
Annoyed, I made my way into the office where Lily, Mom, Bailey, and Hayden were going through merchandise. We’d taken all of Caden’s shirts and added them to Dad’s trailer, and Casten, Axel, and Rager were sharing one for the final West Coast swing since both Mom and I wouldn’t be around.
Caden’s merchandise sales were unreal. He was making more off selling T-shirts and hats than he was racing, as crazy as that sounded. Everyone in the racing community wanted to support him, and did. Tracks all around the world were raising money for him and their family. It brought tears to my eyes just thinking about the closeness of the family we’d created.
And the man next to me, staring at the display cabinet of helmets lining the showroom, it started with him and that first helmet on the wall. Cherry red with black-and-white checkers on it. The smallest of the helmets next to the one Jack wore.
That helmet, that first cherry-red one was the one Dad wore racing quarter midgets at Elma. He was four years old at the time. Dad sighed and locked the cabinet after placing Caden’s helmet in there. I had no idea he had it.
“I sure do miss that kid.”
He nodded. “You and me both.”
“How’s he doing?” I talked to Kinsley a lot, shared pictures of the kids, but I hadn’t personally talked to Caden, and Rager didn’t exactly open up these days.
“He’s in good spirits. Frustrated, but that’s to be expected.” He sighed. “It’s hard to rid yourself of that hopeless feeling when your recovery isn’t going as fast as you want it to.”
“Do you think he’s going to walk again?”
“I hope so. I’d love to have him in a car again. He made this team something special.”
He did. Caden had fit so easily in with JAR Racing he felt like a part of the family instantly. I hated not having them around.
KNOXVILLE NATIONALS
KNOXVILLE RACEWAY
KNOXVILLE, IOWA
BEING AT THE track again was a surreal experience. It was like when we came home in November at the end of every season. It always felt good to be at home, but unfamiliar. You forgot where things were, or that you didn’t have to turn the water off in the middle of your shower to conserve water. The kids had toys they hadn’t seen in months. It was crazy. But eventually the initial shock wore off and you got comfortable being at home again.
That was what it was like when we left for Knoxville. It was like going home to a place where we were comfortable. I loved camping there for the week, but everything felt strange. Not only were Caden and Kinsley missing, but Rager’s mood was completely off. He snapped at everyone, refused to talk to any press, and hid out in the hauler most of the time, denying fans any chance at seeing him.
I thought it was because he didn’t want anyone asking him about Caden, but I wasn’t entirely sure. He also, avoided the questions when I did ask and covered it up with sex. Which, we had a lot of that week. In the hauler, the motor home, behind a building, anywhere we could, he wanted to fuck.
I didn’t deny him because I knew after this week, it’d be a while. I also thought if I could provide a distraction for him, I would.
Knoxville was never short of excitement. Like two-seater sprint cars.
Thursday afternoon, Casten ended up taking Gray, who refused to get out of the damn thing, and his wife for a ride. I think he regretted taking Hayden the moment they got out.
Hayden smacked Casten when she removed the helmet, her hair all over the place. “Y
ou crazy fuck. You nearly killed me.”
He rolled his eyes, setting his helmet on the four-wheeler next to them. “I did not.”
“Bullshit, asshole. Did you not see how close you were to the wall?” She waved her hand dramatically at the track.
“I saw, but you weren’t as close as you think.” Casten blew it off, but when Tommy pointed to the right rear tire that was now flat, he stood in front of it so that his wife didn’t notice.
Pace had been begging Rager to take him, but the track officials wouldn’t allow it. Hell, I didn’t want to allow it. Dad wasn’t even excited when Casten took Gray in it, let alone a four-year-old, and put his foot down. “No,” Dad snapped at Pace, not meaning to, but if you understood how dangerous that was, you’d understand why my Dad wasn’t pleased by any of this.
“Sorry, buddy,” Rager explained, his attention half on his son clinging to his hand, and the other on the track. “It’s not for little kids.”
“I’m not that little,” he argued, yanking hard on Rager’s hand. It jolted him to the side and effectively made him pay attention to our boy. “See? I’m strong. I can handle it.”
Rager let go of his hand and kneeled beside him. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Gray got to go!” he whined, nearing tears. “I want to. Please,” he begged, stomping his foot.
I could tell Rager was losing his patience with him so I approached them. “Pace, why don’t we go walk through the Sprint Car Hall of Fame? Papa’s championship car is in there.”
He let go of Rager’s hand and ran toward me. “Okay. Can Jacen come?”
Pace had recently taken a liking to his cousin Jacen. “Maybe. Go ask Uncle Axel where he’s at.”
He took off toward Axel and Lily’s motor home and I was left there with Rager between the haulers. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. “Relentless as his mama.”
I frowned. “I’m going to pretend that wasn’t a mean comment.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” he admitted, his eyes returning to the track, but he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, his lips pressing to my temple.
