Black Flag (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  “Oh, well let me see.”

  I had gotten an excessive amount of cards and flowers from Jameson’s fans, driver’s wives, and Lisa Westin, the new Director of Competition for NASCAR but no notes yet.

  I was actually curious as to what someone would write at a time like this.

  The flowers were pretty, white roses inside of a crystal glass vase. The nurse placed the flowers near the large window in the sun before handing me the note and shuffling back toward the door.

  Dearest Sway,

  I don’t really know where to start but I should start with I’m sorry. I know that I’m going to jail and I deserve it. I never meant for you or your baby to get hurt.

  I didn’t think Darrin or Mariah were actually serious. I will say that Mariah was merely along for the ride. She wanted Jameson, as did I, but Jameson has only ever had eyes for you.

  Even in high school when he was dating me. The way he looked at you when you walked by...I only wished he would have looked at me the same way. I was jealous. I did something incredibly stupid and I will pay the consequences now.

  When Jameson told me he was leaving, he never gave me the option to go with him, but he did with you. Right then I knew him leaving with you would end in you two together. I was surprised it took as long as it did.

  I never understood his obsession with racing but you did and that’s why you two were perfect for each other. I know my apologizing isn’t going to help anything but for myself I had to do it.

  Therefore, I wish you, Jameson and your child a happy and healthy life together. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you guys. I only wanted Jameson out of it but I knew when I saw you in Charlotte with him, it wasn’t going to happen.

  I’m sorry it went as far as it did. I wish the best for you.

  Sincerely,

  Chelsea Adams

  I didn’t know what to say. Who knew she actually had a heart. I didn’t forgive her, and if I ever saw her again, I would probably set her on fire, but at least she had the decency to apologize.

  What a morning, was my first thought.

  I folded the note away, intending on giving it to Officer Henley, when Jameson returned.

  His expression was the same. Lost, confused, sad, tormented...you name it...Jameson was feeling it. I could hardly look into his eyes without seeing the culpability drowning him, seas of burden colliding with the waves of reprieve. To think he might not see past this made it hard to believe.

  I knew there was a burning anger there just waiting to be released. The worst part was knowing it hadn’t yet.

  “Where did those come from?” he asked motioning with his head to the display of white roses. His voice was dull and shredded of any emotion.

  “Well they uh...” my voice halted when he reached for the note. There’s nothing I could have said in that moment, nothing. I knew the reaction that was coming. I knew the fury that was about to be displayed.

  The instant he realized who the note was from, the vase shattered against the wall of the room. Glass, water, and flowers crashed toward the floor. He didn’t stop there and overturned the tray next to the bed sending it flying toward the wall.

  “That fucking bitch!” Jameson stood with his back to me, his hands resting on the windowsill, his breathing short gasps. “How could she?”

  He wasn’t looking for an answer and I knew enough about his temper not to reply.

  I could see his hands trembling as he struggled to gain his composure. The whites of his knuckles prominent and I knew he was moments away from punching the window.

  “Jameson...please don’t push me away.” I spoke softly trying not to set him off further. “I need you right now. I need you now more than ever. Just, please don’t turn away.”

  Before I finished the last word, he was beside me, crawling into my bed. “I’m sorry honey.” He said urgently when his lips found mine. Frantically, he kissed me repeatedly. “I’m sorry.” He said between kisses. “I just don’t know how to deal with this.”

  Pulling back to look at him, I touched his rough jaw. “I don’t either, but together we have a better chance than dealing with it alone.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed leaning his cheek into my palm. “I just hate that this happened because of me. I was wrong to want you but I did and now you’re paying for it. I didn’t listen to his warnings and now you’re here, hurting.”

  “What do you mean?” My face buried in his neck, wanting to feel the warmth of him.

  “I just...you know with everything going on. I want to stay here with you but I can’t...I have to fly out tomorrow and what happens when the baby is born, will I be there? It’s everything, all the time, piling up on me and I just feel like I’m drowning in it all and not being there for you is what’s sinking me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  I reached for his hand that was resting on my stomach, bringing it to my heart. “You’re always here with me, right here...in my heart.”

  I saw the first smile I’d seen in a while, it was my smile, but he didn’t say anything just nodded. His palm moved to rest against my cheek and then pulled my lips to his.

  I began to realize why Jameson had wanted sex the moment we were alone when he was in the hospital. It provided a bandage to the pain. It was a way to forget and think of something else entirely. It was a way to escape the reality and the heartache of the situation.

  When his kisses slowed, I rested my head against his chest listening to his steady breathing.

  “Just hold me.” I breathed and he did.

  “I’m scared I’ll never let go.” He trembled and I shook, two hearts breaking into one. He whispered a few more words too low for me to hear against my cheek before kissing it.

  “Then don’t.”

  And he didn’t. He just simply held me taking away the pain by just holding me.

  “You know what really sucks about this?”

  “What’s that?” he asked his hands finding mine.

  “I’m going to miss The Black Keys concert.”

  Jimi and Nancy had bought me tickets to their concert in Grand Rapids but with being on bed rest, I’m sure it was out of the question now considering the concert was tonight.

  “I’m sorry honey. Do you want me to sing for you?”

  With my head resting against his chest, Jameson began singing one of my favorite songs of theirs. The vibrations of his low raspy voice coursed through me, calming me.

  He let out a chuckle into my hair. “I don’t know the rest of the words.”

  “Don’t worry, it was perfect.” I assured him.

  I felt the baby moving when he stopped singing, giggling at the spaz and then wincing when I felt the pain in my ribs.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The baby,” I looked up at him. “He started moving when you stopped singing.”

  “Oh really,” his hand reached to my belly. “Do you think he’ll kick for me?”

  Our little spaz didn’t disappoint and kicked.

  If this little flailing spaz had taught me anything so far, it was that we take our miracles where we find them. You reach for the impossible, trading paint, brushing the wall and sometimes against all logic—you make it through to the lead and hold on for the white flag.

  I was holding out for the happy right now, my checkered flag, and having faith that it would. I had faith that this tiny miracle would get us through racing on the edge.

  “There you are.” Emma gave me a nudge crawling in bed with me. “Where have you been my little bean dip?”

  This was Emma’s way of entering my hospital room these days. As if I could actually run away.

  I was fucking miserable without Jameson here. Emma and I spent most of the time making fun of other patients and nurses that would come through, and when we tired of that, I started making fun of Emma.

  Jameson had left on Wednesday morning. The worst part was he left me here with Emma and Van. Everyone else had to be in Dover for the race.r />
  I called Charlie and explained what happened. I think he was high because he took it remarkably well. After speaking with Andrea, she confirmed he was high and that his doctor had prescribed marijuana to calm his nerves. Andrea freaked out about the accident and wanted to come take care of me. I assured her Emma was about all I could handle at the moment.

  The good thing about Emma was you felt no self-pity, just annoyance. She had a way about her where you forgot about all your own shit and focused on how someone could be that insane.

  On Sunday morning, I wanted to kill her and burn the fucking wedding planner she constantly had in hand. I was depressed about planning the wedding because I knew I couldn’t go on a real honeymoon until after the baby was born. The honeymoon was the one thing I was looking forward to. I still wanted to get married but I was having my own pity party regarding the honeymoon.

  When she began talking about wedding dresses, I wanted to throw a snow globe at her head. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have one handy.

  Van spent a good part of the time in the room or right outside of it. I think he could only handle Emma in small doses as well. When she brought up vajazzling my girly pad prior to the wedding, Van quickly turned his head in order to avoid eye contact with both of us and then eventually excused himself.

  I didn’t blame him.

  Before Jameson left, they decided on a plan that Emma, Van, and I would drive back to Elma together when I was released.

  Emma was beyond excited about this; she claimed a good road trip was exactly what we needed. I wasn’t sure who “we” was because Van and I sure as shit didn’t feel that way about a road trip.

  “Aren’t you super excited about this?” She asked.

  “Emma, I’d rather staple my hand to the goddamn wall than travel across the country with you.” I told her, flipping through channels after Van walked out. I was trying to find the pre-race ceremonies on the ten channels the hospital provided. I wasn’t having any luck.

  “That’s a bit harsh.” she voiced glaring at me. She was currently sitting in the bed with me, her hand on the baby. The moment she felt him move for the first time, she’d been attached to me like a goddamn orangutan.

  “It’s not personal.” I said and then I realized how low her hand was. It was hovering just above the crankcase and I was starting to feel uncomfortable. “Actually yes...it is personal.” I grabbed her hand. “Okay...I’ve let you grope me long enough.”

  Emma giggled reaching for my stomach again.

  “Emma,” I warned. “You touch me again, the rest of today and I will bitch slap you, no lie.”

  She burst into maniacal, uncontrollable laughter and touched my stomach anyways.

  Van came back in a few minutes later to see if we needed anything. Emma of course thought he was some sort of personal assistant and asked that he get us smoothies.

  “Hey asshole,” I whispered to Emma, who was still in bed with me. “This isn’t a Jamba Juice.”

  Van laughed. “I don’t mind Ms. Sway. There’s a smoothie bar downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

  “Look what you’ve done; you’ve made a Navy Seal your bitch.”

  She said nothing. Instead, she reached for the remote as though I said nothing.

  We managed to find the pre-race ceremony. I hoped to see Jameson in an interview but he declined all interviews with the media, I didn’t blame him.

  He was still having a hard time. Every phone call I could tell his mind was distracted. I finally had to have a talk with him last night and tell him that I needed him to pull through this; we needed him to pull through this. What better way to rise above what Darrin did to us and prove to him and the public that together, we’re strong. Together, we can do this. Jameson could do this.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew the road ahead would be difficult but together, we could do it.

  The media once again painted the picture of Jameson as the out of control hothead but once the race began, they were right.

  He was all over everyone. If they were in his way, he was crowding them until they let him pass. He was aggressive and had the black flag pointed at him nearly every lap. He started nineteenth and was in third by lap fifteen. He was on a mission to prove something and I knew he would. He was proving to everyone and me, that he was the man we needed. He was the man that could win the Winston Cup Championship in his first season and overcome the unspeakable shadowing.

  Everything had amalgamated and pressed into him until he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was breaking apart inside trying to fix this with racing.

  Van stepped in with our smoothies as the announcers began talking about Jameson. Emma had disappeared to the gift shop so at least I had some peace.

  “Jameson Riley just took the lead here.” One announcer said and then the other began speaking. “You know we tried to speak with Jameson prior to the race but he’s been avoiding all media since the incident with his fiancée last week in Loudon.”

  “I can’t say I blame him, Rick. Their family has been through a lot since his horrific crash at Pocono, I say we give them their privacy.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Rick replied. “He did issue a statement Monday morning after the incident that asked that we respect his family’s privacy and I believe we should so let’s talk about this kid in general. He’s accomplished so much in his short career. In the Busch Series last year he won fourteen races and nine of those were from the pole. Then he moves up to the cup series and wins his second career start at the Rock. I really believe if he can keep it together, he will win this championship.”

  “From the looks of this Rowdy Riley today, he’s out to prove something. If he doesn’t wreck trying, he’ll win because he’s on fire today!”

  And as they predicted, Jameson did just that, he won.

  I watched with admiration that my dirty heathen pulled himself together for me, for us. This man, the father of our child was a champion. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, he was a champion in my mind.

  He skipped his usual burn out and went straight to victory lane. I watched closely as he removed himself from the car but he didn’t stand on the roof as he usually did. He sat on the edge with his head bent forward resting against the roof as if he was praying. His team gathered around, cheering him on and soon he snapped out of it and smiled toward the camera.

  Once the media made it over, he whispered in the reporter’s ear, who nodded, and then they asked how the car was and all the standard race car talk. What surprised me was his last statement.

  Jameson smirked toward the camera, sweat covered his flushed face, and his eyes glistened with tears, his hair a wild mess as he reached for the microphone to pull it closer.

  “I just have to thank everyone who has stood behind me through everything this year. My sponsor Simplex, I have to thank them because without them this wouldn’t be possible. And most of all, my family...Sway, honey, I couldn’t do anything without you by my side. You helped me see past what wasn’t important.” His voice cracked and he gave a tight nod. Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he added. “I’m the luckiest man around and this wins for you. I’ll be home soon and I love you.” He then blew a kiss at the camera before he was tackled by Spencer and Kyle.

  I knew the win meant I wouldn’t see him until the early hours of the morning but at least he won. A win to him was a start in the right direction.

  I believe in karma. I do.

  Why?

  To me, it was righting something that was wrong in the first place and leaving us to face the past whether it was right or wrong. It was evening the score.

  Van was sitting with me as we watched the SPEED channel. They were currently talking about Jameson’s actions on the track earlier. Apparently, though we didn’t see it, he threw his helmet at an official at one point this weekend. I wasn’t surprised by that.

  Van seemed to sense my frustration with Jameson and his recent temper tantrums.

  “Ms. Sway, I thi
nk it’s time I told you about my past.” He took a seat closer to my bed, pushing his dark hair from his eyes. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward.

  I shifted as much as I could to listen. Carefully, I examined his face. Not that I really looked at Van but it was easy to see when you looked at him that he kept his feelings hidden from the rest of the world. He and Jameson had a lot in common.

  “You see,” Van began. “I know exactly how Jameson is feeling right now. I know what it’s like to feel completely out of control and reckless.” Van’s eyes fell to his hands. “Three months before my term ended I was in Beijing on a mission. When I returned home, it was late, maybe around one in the morning. My family and I were living in Huntsville North Carolina at the time.” Van stopped drawing in a deep breathe. His warm hazel eyes held mine as he spoke slowly. “I remember unlocking the door, walking through the living room...down the hall...to find my wife and daughter. I heard noises coming from the back bedroom so I made my way into that room. I’m not sure why, but as I walked in, my subconscious told me something was wrong.”

  Van paused again, tears streamed down my cheeks now as I realized where this was going. “The man made it out the window before I could get to him. I saw his face. I was too caught up in trying to save my family to go after him.”

  He was quiet, eyes distant for a good two minutes before I finally asked, “Did they...?” my voice faded at the very thought he lost his family so brutally.

  Van shook his head with a light shrug.

  “No...they didn’t survive.” his eyes narrowed and I understood completely why people found him scary. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your wife beg you to save your little girl, while they died in your arms?”

  I shook my head completely losing it.

  “So you see; I know what Jameson is going through. I know what it’s like to want to kill someone who puts your family in danger. Jameson has every right to feel every emotion he’s feeling. He may seem out of control and reckless as they say, but he was every right to feel that way.”