The Champion

by Shey Stahl

  “Are you good buddy?” I finally asked after chuckling at Lily’s enthusiasm.

  “Yeah, I’m good daddy.” He smiled at me and then Lily again.

  I made my way to the infield standing to the other fathers, all of them giving me the look that said “We know who you are,” and also telling me, “That’s why your kid places so well. Money and his daddy.”

  That had absolutely nothing to do with it. Yeah, if Axel destroyed a car, he had another one the next night or week, but that had nothing to do with his talent in the sport. I don’t care how good your equipment is or how many sponsors you have funding you. In the end, this sport comes down to talent and patience. Some may not believe that but I do.

  Look at when I started in USAC on the East Coast. Sure, I had money but my money did nothing for me when I came head-to-head with the fire-breathing beasts from the East. Talent got me where I am today and talent has gotten Axel where he is, currently in first place with one lap to go.

  He’d been battling hard, swapping the lead with a kid named, Shane Jennings, when Shane’s front right tire caught Axel’s left rear. Axel wobbled slightly while Shane smashed into the tire barriers leaving Axel to take the win.

  I had seen him win before, but the Battle at the Brickyard would be comparable to me winning the Daytona 500, something I had yet to do.

  His fan club was jumping up and down, my mom included. Sway appeared to be crying, which was nothing new. When it came to our children, she was a little basket case.

  When the cars pulled off the track Axel came back around to be presented the trophy.

  “Is Shane okay?” was his first question.

  “Yeah buddy, he’s fine. See, he’s right there.” I pointed to Shane who gave Axel a thumbs-up and walked back, with his dad, toward the wall to his car.

  The next thing he asked, “Are you proud of me?”

  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he always asked this. “What would ever make you think I wasn’t proud of you?” I asked hugging him once he untangled himself from his belts.

  He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, not immediately answering. When he did his voice was small and quiet. “You and grandpa...you are...legends.” he shrugged as his eyes fell. “I just wanna make you proud of me. I wanna be like you.” He avoided my eyes, looking at his shoes.

  Placing my hand gently under his chin, I forced him to look me in the eye. “You are buddy. Everything about you is just like me. I don’t know if you should be proud, or worried.” We both chuckled and before we could have any longer in our father-son moment, the announcer was wanting to interview him.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked Axel who stood strong beside me.

  “Yep,”

  “Did your dad give you any advice here?” He motioned to me.

  Axel looked up at me and winked. “Yep, he told me, be patient.”

  “Well, considering your dad is a NASCAR cup series champion...you should listen to him, huh?”

  “I did.”

  “Yes you did, because this monster trophy is bigger than you!” he handed Axel the trophy that was no doubt bigger than my little pint sized son. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” the crowd whistled and screamed, most of which came from our family. “The winner of the Jr. Animal 120 class...Axel Riley!”

  My dad was right when he told me nothing compares to seeing your kids’ dreams come true. I just hoped that this was his dream and not something that he felt he had to live up to some unspoken expectation. I never wanted him to feel like this was something he had to do. Knowing he wanted to race was comforting. I never forced him to do this but in the back of my mind I wondered if all that pressure I put upon myself to be great was somehow imparted to him to do the same.

  Either way, I needed to be careful of the yellow lines. They blurred so easily when it came to parenting. It’s easy to let yourself push your dreams toward them, but the line needs to be drawn. They are their own people and they have every right to live their dreams and not yours.

  One thing I did before we left that night, I found that woman I turned down the autograph for a made sure she got the autograph she was looking for. To me, that was me showing my appreciation for her respecting my privacy.

  18. Stop-and-Go Penalty – Sway

  Stop-and-Go Penalty – A penalty which requires a driver to stop at their teams pit for a timed penalty before re-entering the race. This penalty can be assessed for anything from speeding in the pits to contact with an opponent.

  “We need a night out Sway. We just do!” Emma stressed pulling at her hair as she watched Noah smack his brother in the thigh with a plastic knife.

  “If those were my kids, I’d have to agree with you.” I told her taking another drink of my mocha.

  I couldn’t get enough coffee these days. It seemed, like with everything else, our lifestyle was catching up with me and I turned to coffee. I had this deal with myself that if I drank coffee, for every cup I had, I had to drink a full glance of water. This just met I was drinking all the time and when I wasn’t drinking something, I was peeing.

  I was now down to two cups a day because I couldn’t spend my life in the bathroom.

  All my habits aside, we did need a break. It was the middle of the season and the battle for the chase was in full swing. Jameson was riding in the wild card spot and just as hungry for the spot as the other four drivers in line.

  With a string of three top twenty finishes, he had dropped from his fifth place position in the points to eleven and was feeling the pressure. In turn, we all felt the pressure building. Jameson was good about controlling it but there were the times when he would lash out at his crew or the guys back at the shop for simple mistakes. He couldn’t blame them for everything as he himself was struggling on the track. It happens to every driver out there and they all took it just as personally as Jameson did.

  “So, about going out...” Emma caught my stare at the wall. “I was thinking we could sneak out when the guys are in Atlanta.”

  “You know Richmond follows that. With the chase—”

  “Sway,” Emma silenced me. “We. Need. A. Night!”

  “You need a night. My kids are good.”

  Emma looked over at Casten gathering all the sugar packets on the table at Starbucks and then stuffing them in his pocket for later. It explained his sudden bursts of energy late at night.

  “You don’t have angels either.” Emma remarked gesturing to Arie who’d been staring intently at a group of teenagers before she rolled her eyes. It was slightly amusing every time I saw her roll her eyes. Come on, at four years old, anyone wouldn’t be cute rolling their eyes?

  “Emma, Jameson will never let me go out in Atlanta. It’s out of the question.”

  “Okay,” she turned to me. “Just don’t tell him. Say we’re going out.”

  “Yeah, that’s not happening. I don’t lie to Jameson about things like that. He just worries that we will get into trouble and you know us Emma, we get into trouble.”

  “We do not.”

  “Really? What about the time in Los Angeles when we went shopping and those fans attacked us?”

  “They didn’t attack us Sway.”

  “What about the time in Richmond when we went to that restaurant and had to sneak out the back because our kids trashed the place?”

  “Our kids won’t be there.”

  She had an answer for everything so I pulled quick time and went for the pole.

  “What about the time we went to Jacksonville and we ended up—”

  “All right. I get the fucking point.” She glared leaning back in the seat to drink her ice tea.

  Emma didn’t like to be reminded of our trip to Jacksonville last winter when we got so shit faced that Jameson had to carry us back to the hotel and Emma ended up naked on her balcony singing Take me Breath Away to a hobo on the street. After that night, she wasn’t allowed out with adult supervision and Alley wasn’t enough. You get Alley drinking enough and all he
r commonsense turned into bullshit.

  The sun coming in through the window next to her sparkled her long black waves of hair. I reached out to touch her hair as I always did. It was mesmerizing.

  She slapped my hand away. “Stop that.”

  “It’s just so pretty.”

  “Yeah well, touch your husband’s hair, not mine.”

  Casten, with a bright smile sensing some opportunity, moved from the chair next to me after collecting enough sugar packets and joined Arie at the table next to us. Arie, Casten and Noah sat quietly watching the teenagers again all with her same curiosity.

  “Sway, please. I need to go out and Andrea is flying in, Ami said she’d come.”

  “Wait a second,” I waved me hand around before grabbing her face between my palms seeing through her wicked ways. “You’ve already planned this fucking trip, haven’t you?”

  Emma nodded.

  “This is peer pressure you know.” I flipped the lid to my mocha and handed it to the barista for a refill. She knew me well and understood when I was here with Emma, refills were imperative. Fuck my water theory.

  “It is not.” Emma argued handing the girl her ice tea for a refill. “Peer pressure is for high schoolers.”

  Sam, the barista here at our local Starbucks laughed at our argument and our kids destroying the small café.

  “No, it’s not.” I told Emma. “Peer pressure is for everyone.”

  “Bullshit.” She sighed reaching for her lotion to lather up. “Just got out with us,”

  “One of these days your brother is going to kill you. You know that, right?”

  “Whatever. He’d miss me too much.”

  “He wouldn’t just forget about you or anything. I think naturally there’d be a grieving period.”

  “God,” she huffed and stood to gather her brats. “You two act as though there’s something wrong with me and my kid.”

  I watched as her son, Charlie, smack the barista on the ass as they left. Nothing wrong with them family my ass.

  Mine weren’t any better when Arie sat down beside one of those teenagers and started asking her questions about her piercings. I was surprised the girl didn’t leak when she drank her coffee.

  Against my better judgment and sanity, I convinced Jameson to let me go out with the girls Friday night when we were in Atlanta. With the race being on Saturday night and a few days before Arie’s fourth birthday, we only had Friday night and hoped none of us got into trouble.

  Jameson wasn’t pleased and voiced his concern many times that this was the worst idea I’ve ever had. I wasn’t sure if the worst idea was me going out with the girls or him keeping an eye on all three of our kids. Even worse, Aiden and Spencer thought it’d be cool if they all got together and watched the kids as a team. Somehow they thought with all of them together they could manage eight kids under ten.

  I tried to point out they were outnumbered but it was almost like they took that as some sort of challenge and it became a mission to make it through the night.

  If only Emma shared the mission to make it through the night.

  It started soon after the Nationwide race on Friday night when we left our husbands at the suite in downtown Atlanta. We had a chaperon though, Van.

  Emma, Alley, Nancy, Andrea and even Ami joined me on our night out. I couldn’t tell you what bars we stopped at, just that there were so many I couldn’t keep track. I was one drink away from shitfaced most of the night and just kept it up.

  Nancy and Andrea, who rarely went out and it was even rarer that they drank, could barely walk by the third bar and I was sure were well on their way to alcohol poising or something equally as drastic. But no, they kept step and drank us drink for drink despite that.

  Nancy found entertainment in Jameson’s favorite drink these days, Monster Energy drinks mixed with vanilla vodka. I think that’s what kept her going so strong.

  We were all going strong around midnight when I got a text from Jameson that said: I found Casten’s diaper and shirt in the bathroom and he’s missing. Does he have any secret hiding places I should know about? When should I panic?

  I replied with: Well when I can’t find him at home I have Axel look for him. For some reason he comes out of hiding when Axel barks like a dog and pretends to run around on all fours. Just do anything that causes a commotion and he’ll come running for the entertainment. He’s just bored so he hides. And no, don’t panic unless he doesn’t come out.

  I didn’t get a reply right away so I tucked my phone inside my purse and went about the night.

  “I think I’m done for the night.” I told Emma by the fourth bar and swaying slightly as I held onto the table we were gathered at.

  “No.” she said adamantly. “This isn’t a one drink night. This is the type of night that we drink a fifth of whatever, show up at the bar and see what happens. I’m expecting one of us gets arrested.”

  “Emma,” Nancy scolded. “That would not be good.”

  “Mom,” she began setting her lemon drop down on the table and looking like she was about to give a presidential debate.

  For some reason, Alley, who’d been pounding beers all night, thought her expression was the funniest thing she’d ever seen and let out a string of laughs followed by snorts and some tears. It wasn’t pretty.

  “Listen to me,” Emma started in again when Alley gained control. “For the three times I’ve been arrested in my life, I’ve enjoyed every experience.”

  I tried multiple times throughout the night to convince Emma to call it a night all with no success.

  About one was when Tommy showed up. Emma was pissed that he showed up because this was apparently a girl’s night but I held some comfort that Tommy was around. Usually I didn’t do stupid shit when he was around. Tommy did.

  I’d like to think I’ve matured since my days of getting rip roaring drunk and tattooing myself but that night turned into stupidity after Tommy arrived. It was a part of the night that I referred to as the point-of-no-return.

  Jameson had been sending me all kinds of weird text message throughout the night asking how to do simple tasks with the kids I knew he already knew but I also understood this was his way of silently making sure I was okay.

  Found Casten. Spencer lit the toaster on fire and Casten came out of the pantry eating graham crackers. By the way, does Arie usually take off her clothes and run around naked? That’s not normal, right? Do our kids ever run around fully clothed? By the way, she’s nearly four. We should get clothes on her.

  And then after I replied assuring him that was normal he sent another text an hour later that said: Got Spencer and Aiden to bed but the kids won’t stop! How do you get Arie to sleep without her binkie? She’s nearly four. That thing has to go at some point! I’m sure they don’t allow them in kindergarten.

  It was something like three and the bars were closing so I assured him I’d be back in a little while and help him out. Boy was I wrong.

  That’s when Tommy fucked us all. Not literally but he did cause a blown tire or two.

  We’d lost people before. Actually, we’d lost someone every time we went out but I had no idea it’d be Nancy. We were walking down the street to the last open bar when we lost her.

  Alley freaked out and was about ready to call the police when Tommy piped up with a confession that shocked us all.

  “I kind of told her...it’d be cool if she got a tattoo.” Was his sheepish reply followed with a few slaps to the back of his head from all five of us staring at him in horror.

  We found her about forty-five minutes later with a tramp stamp that read Hit This in bold calligraphy with a red lips at the end.

  “I can honestly say I don’t have the tackiest tattoo in the family now.” Emma said between giggles.

  It was horrible and I was sure Jimi wouldn’t be please and Tommy would need to join the witness protection program when Spencer and Jameson found out what he convinced their mother to do.

  After that, we made it to
the last open bar and stayed there until we got kicked out. Alley got a lap dance from a girl wearing barely anything and thigh high red hooker boots. Andrea threw up on the bar tender only to ask for another drink. Ami found that she was a champ at darts only she wasn’t throwing them at a dark board and had to explain to the owner of the bar why she broke all their windows.

  Alley caught her hair in a fan and chunks had to be sacrificed.

  Van had to leave to take Andrea to the hospital when she got in the way of Ami throwing darts. Turns out when they get lodged into your ass it bleeds a lot when pulled out. She looked like she had hemorrhoids and wasn’t pleased.

  Tommy, completely intoxicated decided he was in charge now and that just resulted in an even worse plan when he convinced Nancy to steal a cop’s horse.

  I couldn’t understand where Nancy’s sense of direction went and why she was following Tommy and his shitty advice tonight.

  Nancy made the cop pinky swear not to arrest her when she failed the breathalyzer but as it turns out; walking around in public was considered frowned upon too. That landed Tommy, Nancy, Emma and me in jail when we went to her aide with the cop that couldn’t understand that she was a fifty-year old woman who’d drank too much and branded her lower back.

  She clearly wasn’t rational and he needed to consider that before arresting us. But no, that cop was not friendly.

  As we sat there in jail, I looked over the string of text message from Jameson that I hadn’t noticed while controlling my mother in-law. Each one cracked me up. Most were just messages but there was a few of Spencer and Aiden wearing make-up, no doubt a product of Lexi and Arie. Those two put make-up on everything, including Casten, which was the next picture. My little baby, not so little, was all dolled up in a princess dress, wearing a crown, and plastic earning. He looked pretty good as a girl as did Aiden.

  “How do you still have your phone?” Tommy whispered in my ear glaring at Alley who’d been giving him the stink eye since we landed ourselves in this shit hole in Atlanta.

  By the way, if you have never been arrested in downtown Atlanta, keep in that way.