Black Flag (Racing on the Edge) (61 page)

“Fuck,” I groaned
wondering how much trouble we would get in for this, most likely speeding and
probably indecent exposure. When I looked up, I realized that I had
not
taken E.
Waltrip
Road like I thought but was now
directly in front of the elementary school. Apparently, my mind was elsewhere
and
not
on navigating through town to avoid this.

“Sway,” I tried to pull
her up but I think she got the impression I was trying to warn her of what was
about to come. Which I was, but clearly we weren’t thinking about the same type
of coming. And yet again, she doubled her efforts making me gasp out loud.

I looked up to see that
school was now being let out. So there we were surrounded by nine year olds,
shaking with laughter as they watched Sheriff Taylor exit his cruiser, swinging
his completely-unnecessary-for-Elma-night-stick as he slowly approached my car.

My first instinct was
to laugh at the situation, and the ridiculous scene as it played out before the
whole town, including a group of nine year olds.

Everyone knew Sheriff
Taylor had a total dislike for Spencer, Sway and me, not that his hate for us
was unwarranted. We certainly did cause a shitload of problems for him when we
were growing up, but come on, we were kids, right?

The fine officers of
the Elma Police Department had detained me and Sway numerous times and charged
us with a few offenses but I had a feeling this wouldn’t be easily explained to
my sponsors or my dad. I could just see the headlines of:
NASCAR superstar
gets pulled over while getting micro polishing.

Well clearly it
wouldn’t say that, but it might as well.

The Sheriff continued
his march toward the car. I realized the only way to get Sway to stop was to
physically pull her on her.

“Sway, get up.” I
demanded tugging on her shoulders. I hated saying it because honestly that had
to be some of the best micro polishing she has done. The fact that we were
about to get caught made it sexy as hell.

“Why?” she asked
sitting up but still leaned over the console.

Just as I was
frantically zipping my pants, the Sheriff took the stick and rapped it against
my window, as if I didn’t know he was there.

“That’s why.”

Comprehension flashed
across Sway when she finally noticed Taylor standing there. Falling back in her
seat, she
tried
, and I will say
tried
because it was a doomed
effort at that point to straighten out her clothing and make it look like she
wasn’t just micro polishing. Her hair was all over the place, her face flushed,
lips were swollen and bright red. Like I said, it was a doomed effort.

Needless to say, even
in my moment of sheer panic, this was unbelievably entertaining to watch.

“Why didn’t you say
something earlier asshole?” she seethed fixing her hair. “That sheriff hates
me.”

“I tried.” I pointed
out throwing my arms up in frustration as I proceeded to roll down my window.

“Well if it isn’t the
NASCAR superstar himself,” he bellowed. “Shouldn’t you be racing?”

“Ah Taylor, I thought
you could use some entertainment for the afternoon.” I joked.

“Do you realize how
fast you were going Riley? This isn’t the race track.”

You would think I would
be trying to distract him from the fact that I was moments ago frantically
zipping my pants and trying to get my pregnant fiancée’s mouth off me. But no,
I wasn’t trying to do that when I stuttered out an “Uh.”

“Well let me jog your
memory son, ninety, in a school zone.”

“I’m sorry Sheriff. I
was distracted.”

For the love of idiocy,
why can’t I think of anything remotely responsible to say?

He looked at me like I
was stupid and then looked over at Sway who was still flushed and trying to fix
her bra. At that point, Taylor looked between the two of us and comprehension
finally flashed across his face at what exactly we had been doing to be going
ninety miles an hour.

“I see.” He muttered
looking again at Sway.

My head fell back in
frustration. I wasn’t sure who was more mortified at that point. Me, who was
desperately
praying my camshaft to lose the
lift
. Sway, who was
bright red, and completely oblivious to the fact that her bra was still
showing. Or Taylor, who was seventy years old and just caught two kids having
sex in a car, driving down the road at ninety in a school zone.

By the grace of god, I
can only assume, Taylor mumbled a “Slow Down,” and quickly returned to his
cruiser thankfully before Sway and I both burst out in uncontrollable laughter.

Once we slowly, and I
mean
slowly
at twenty-five miles an hour, started driving home we made a
new rule: No micro polishing in the car,
ever
again.

20.
                 
Splash
N’ Go – Sway

Splash and Go – This is
described as a quick pit stop that involves nothing more than refueling the
race car with the amount of fuel necessary to finish the race.

When Jameson wakes up
in the mornings, his reaction is something similar to waking a bear from hibernation,
the only difference being, he’s not in a cave. I also have a similar problem
when he doesn’t get his way as he acts like a large toddler; the only
difference is that he doesn’t cry, but the tantrum is the same.

Now imagine that when
he’s woken up by Emma. Yeah, that would describe the events that took place the
morning before he left. Aiden and I were moments away from killing them both. I
don’t know how Jimi and Nancy didn’t eat their young.

Before Jameson had to
leave for Texas, Aiden flew in and Emma forced us to go to Babies-R-Us. Her
reasoning was for one, I was running out of clothes that fit me, and two, if
the baby came early—it would be a huge problem since we had
nothing
for
him.

We drove to Babies-R-Us
in Tacoma. Though I was still on bed rest, I convinced Dr. Sears to increase my
time among the living to three hours a day. I don’t know why that one hour was
such a big deal to me, but you’d think I’d just won the lottery with the
excitement I put forth at the new freedom.

The other exciting
event that took place was me getting a new car.

We stopped off at a
Ford dealership. Jameson of course, had to sign some autographs since along
with Simplex, they sponsored him too. He strode out of the dealership taking me
by the hand and led me to the lot.

“Pick one.” He told me
with a bright smile.

“Huh?” I asked,
confused.

“Pick one,” he motioned
toward the cars, still smiling with excitement at getting a new car. “I killed
the Red Dragon. Aiden killed the Subaru
...
pick
a new car.”

I hated the fact that
he was, once again, spending money on me, but when I stalled for time, he
simply said, “Honey, we’re not leaving this dealership until you pick a car.
Hurry the fuck up.”

So I ended up picking
out a brand new black Ford Expedition that Jameson was also pleased with. He
signed a shit load of paperwork, handed them his credit card, and then we left
in my new car.

Luckily with the
sponsorship he got one hell of a deal on the truck or else I probably wouldn’t
have been so partial to the idea. I spent the next twenty minutes opening every
compartment and clicking every button at least twice. Jameson just smiled.

I’d never had a new car
before and the excitement was comparable to the excitement I imagined Tom Hanks
felt in the movie
Big
when he realized there were no parents to tell him
to go to bed at night.

Emma and Aiden drove my
dad’s Expedition, which made the entire trip much more pleasant. If I never
rode in a car with Emma again, it would be too soon.

Once we arrived at
Babies-R-Us, I was overwhelmed with how much baby stuff there actually was
confined in one location. I mean seriously, do you really need all that stuff?
Clearly, I was in over my head. And so was Jameson by the look on his face.

“What the fuck is
that?” Jameson asked with a quizzical gaze toward breast pumps.

Aiden simply smiled
backing toward the bottles at the other end. I examined the package for a
moment because I myself was unsure at first.

“It’s a breast pump,
Jameson.” I couldn’t help but smile at him. He was so adorable when confused.

He shifted his weight
from one foot to the other and his eyes met mine for a moment, perplexed, and
then looked back at the package in his hand. “What do you use it for?”

“Breast
feeding.
What else would you do with it?”

He looked even more confused,
raising his eyebrows at me to explain.

Just as I was about to
explain, Emma walked up with a bunch of maternity clothes in hand and
momentarily distracted me at the quantity she was able to carry with her tiny
arms, she was like an octopus.

Emma looked at me, then
at Jameson, and then the box Jameson was looking at, again.

“I thought
...
” Jameson did the
shifting-nervous-weight-transfer thing. “
with
breast
feeding, that you just
...
uh you know, use your
breast
.
Why do you need a pump?”

I laughed at the way he
said “breast” as if it was a forbidden word or something.

After he set the box
down, he backed against the wall running his hand through his hair. I laughed
again because Jameson was acting really strange and the only thing I could do
was laugh. Neither one of us know anything about raising a child for Christ
sakes. I must have given him a strange look after he asked that because he
flashed me a small reassuring smile.

“It’s for when you’re
not with the baby and you still need to relieve yourself of the milk.” I
clarified.

I wouldn’t have known
myself either but unlike Jameson, I read those damn baby books the doctor gave
us. I only did that because I have so much time on my hands these days.

“WHAT?” Emma gasped snatching
up the box. All the clothing she’d been holding fell to her feet. “There is no
way in hell I would stick that,” she pointed to the picture of the pump in
horror. “
on
my funbags. It would drain the life right
out of them.” she complained throwing the box. “That’s just ridiculous.”

Aiden came back with
some bottle nipples as Jameson backed away from the breast pumps.

“These don’t look like
your nipples, Emma.” Aiden mused, placing the nipple over Emma’s funbags.

“Oh for Christ sakes,”
Jameson groaned stalking away.

Emma and Aiden started
laughing,
then
started kissing.

“Careful, that leads to
a flailing spaz.” I pointed out walking toward the clothing department.

As I stood there,
skimming through the clothing, I realized how incredibly nervous I was about
becoming a mother. It terrified the hell out of me. I had no idea how to even
take care of a baby. And I doubted Jameson did either. Just yesterday he
thought they were potty trained by one.

At the time I laughed
but I wasn’t much better when I thought that you just go to the hospital and
the baby comes out, as though it was a scheduled event like going to the
dentist. I had no idea you go into labor or anything. Nor did I understand that
the weight you gain doesn’t magically disappear when the baby comes out.
Needless to say, we were in for a rude awakening with this parenting shit.

After a few minutes,
Jameson was beside me again, looking through the racks next to me.

“Hey beautiful,” he
pulled me closer and he gently placed both his hands on my stomach over our
baby.

I couldn’t describe the
feeling I got when his hands would touch our child through my skin. It was such
an overwhelming gratification that made me feel closer to him than ever before.
We were one person connected by this child inside me. The moment his fingers
would graze over the sensitive skin separating our baby from the world, my eyes
burned with tears. I forgot all about the responsibilities we had, the women
that were now throwing themselves at Jameson. I forgot about my fears of Darrin
coming after me again. I forgot about
everything
with just one touch
from this man. Goes to show you the power the dirty heathen can have.

Soon we found ourselves
in the stroller aisle where I decided that Jameson was not allowed to touch the
stroller. He was already talking about wanting to put an engine on it, which I
originally thought might actually be pretty cool, considering I wouldn’t have
to push it. But when he thought it would be a good idea to see if Simplex could
design some special off-road shock package for it, I drew the line.

That was the day that I
came to the distinct conclusion that we had absolutely no business raising a
child. Poor little adorable flailing spaz was in for an interesting life. I
contemplated looking through the phone book when I got home to find him a
therapist. I wouldn’t want him on a waiting list or anything.