The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (24 page)

Jameson had always been incredibly talented at everything
he did but with racing
...
it was easy to
see it came naturally to him. I remember the first time he got inside a race
car and actually raced with other drivers.

Up until that point, he would spend hours sitting inside
my cars, just sitting there.

It was two weeks after his fourth birthday and after
careful consideration, and wanting to have my spare car back, I bought him a
quarter-midget. Within a week of buying the car, we took it down to Grays
Harbor where he broke the track-record. At four fucking years old, this rusty
haired little shit broke
my
record!

Talk about feeling inadequate. I guess you also had to
realize this kid was not your ordinary four-year old. He had the street smarts
of a goddamn ten-year old. His mother and I were no match for him and learned
when he wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it.

From that point on, I knew he’d be up here someday. But I
never imagined how I would feel about that. Proud yes, but it was more than
that. It was everything.

Being a driver myself, I knew what he was feeling.
Jameson had one quality you rarely saw in drivers though. We all second-guessed
ourselves at some point in our careers but not Jameson. Sure, he was out of
control and completely reckless on the track but bordering on the edge of his
sanity was where he always shined the most.

Today, his smirk told it all. He didn’t want to let on
how much this all meant to him. I knew though. I also knew how much he was
giving up for this. He was giving up a chance to see his son grow up, as did I.
The moment you’re handed that trophy though—not that those sacrifices still
don’t hurt to make—they seem less like sacrifices and more like opportunities.

Burn off – Jameson

“How does it feel to win your second Cup Championship and
the first Nextel Cup Championship?” Neil asked me standing next to me as I
wiped away the sweat and the champagne Kyle and Spencer just drenched me in.

“It feels good
...
again
I don’t even know what to say
...
I’m
gonna need to work on my speeches.” I teased while the crowd around me
chuckled. “I need to thank my family
...
my
wife, Sway. I honestly wouldn’t be half the man I am today without you.” I
bowed my head and looked down at the trophy in my hands. “I don’t really
deserve this
...
my family does. This is
for you Charlie.” I said and held the trophy up to the sky.

My parents taught me very early on you pay respect where
respect is due, and with Charlie, I owed him everything and I wished like hell
he was here to see this.

The last few races of the season Sway was at home with
Emma, who was ready to pop any day now. Since Emma had been there every step of
the way for Sway and me during her pregnancy, she felt the need to be there for
Emma since Aiden couldn’t.

I knew when I married Sway that there would be times when
she wouldn’t be able to follow me around like I wanted. It was part of the life
we’d chosen. What I didn’t realize was how much it’d hurt to win my second
championship without her by my side again. What was best for one of us wouldn’t
necessarily be best for the other but that’s marriage, right?

After the loads of press and photos I was finally on a
plane home to Mooresville.

When I made it home around one the next morning, the
house was dark and quiet. I smiled at the note on the counter from Sway asking
me to wake her when I returned home. I smiled again once inside the room at the
sight of the two halves of my heart sleeping on our bed.

Sway was curled up with Axel in her arms. His pacifier
had fallen out beside him, his cheeks flushed from the heat of our fireplace.
Sway had dressed him in Jameson Riley pajamas that had my sponsor logo and my
number plastered all over them.

I stood there leaning against the doorframe, watching
them sleep for a good fifteen minutes before I made my way inside the room.

Slipping off my shoes and jacket, I crawled into bed
beside Sway, kissing her shoulder softly.

I knew she said to wake her but looking at her now, I
couldn’t. Instead, I watched them sleep and wondered how I got so lucky to have
the dream and the wish.

Burn off – Sway

I was in a deep peaceful sleep. The kind where you are so
relaxed that you are actually smiling in your sleep. It might have something to
do with the fact that my dirty heathen was finally home and we’d just made slow
passionate love with each other and now, I was now peaceful in my champion’s
arms.

As soon as my eyes fluttered closed that night, Axel
started crying. Knowing Jameson wouldn’t wake up, I made my way across the hall
to his room.

When I opened the door, his tears said it all—or maybe it
was the quivering lip.

He’d recently been doing this at night. He would do great
for the first half of the night and then around three in the morning, he’d wake
up crying hysterically.

“Mamama,” he babbled and reached his tiny arms up to me,
which melted my heart.

I picked him up and sat down in the wooden rocking chair
next to his crib. Anyone who says they let them cry it out in bed doesn’t have
a heart.

Jameson and I tried this one weekend in Richmond. I’m not
sure who cried more, Axel or me and Jameson. After about two hours of this,
Bobby, whose motor coach was parked next to us, asked us to either pick the
screaming kid up, or to stop crying. He was more disturbed by our crying than
by Axel’s.

I couldn’t blame him on that one.

“Mama’s here for you baby,” I whispered against his rusty
locks that stuck out. “Mama’s here
...
”

Axel’s hair cracked me up. It was exactly like Jameson’s.
Same color texture and everything. I tucked a few crazy strands away from his
eyes and kissed the top of his head as I settled in the rocking chair with him.
He wormed his way closer to the foodbags for comfort and rubbed his fleece
blanket against his nose.

Though parenthood wasn’t exactly everything I thought it
would between with the temper tantrums, the not wanting to wear clothes,
screaming in the middle of the night and being kicked in the tits any time I
changed his diaper, I’d say we were making it through and hey, he was still
alive.

That right there was a good sign that we at least had
something
under control. Sure there were the times when I’d forget he couldn’t feed
himself but he was quick to remind me of that task. Or the times when I
wondered how something so tiny could scream so loud but we were making it
through this.

Within ten minutes, Axel was fast asleep in my arms with
his head resting on my shoulder, breathing slow steady breaths against my neck.

It was times like this that I wanted to stop time.

I wanted to stay in this moment with him, keep him this
age and cherish every moment with him, before there were no more moments like
this and he was telling me he hates me.

I’m not stupid. I knew once he became a teenager, he’d
hate me and I was already mentally preparing myself and contemplating how I’d
deal with it.

I wondered if everyone felt like this, as if your life is
passing you by and you’re only left the moments you can’t describe?

There are moments in my life that I want to remember as
though I was living in them. I wanted to record my life, if that were
possible.  Like the “ass-sucking-in-process” I discovered on our
honeymoon. I thought this would useful.

I’ve always felt like there were days when I wanted to go
back to a certain moment and remember the exact emotion I was feeling. I want to
go back to sitting with my mother on Sunday mornings when we gave ourselves
pedicures and remember the way her infectious laughter sounded or what her
smile looked like. I wanted to go back to the days at the track on Saturday
mornings where my dad and I would prep and water the track together.

I wanted to go back to the exact moment I fell in love
with Jameson during our summer together. I remember the feeling, both
comforting and harrowing, that washed over me knowing that I loved him. Jameson
was sitting inside his car after a race in Knoxville. His helmet was off but he
hadn’t gotten out of the car yet.

In that particular moment, with sweat and dirt smeared
over his face, the distinct smells of burnt rubber and methanol floating around
us, I knew that I loved him. I didn’t know why, but looking at that smirk of
his that night having just won the Triple Crown Nationals at eighteen and how
his green eyes glowed in the dark summer night, I just knew. I remember feeling
anxious and excited all at the same time and wanting time to stand still so I
could stay in that moment.

I wanted to go back to the moment I felt Axel kick for
the first time, standing in the flag stand watching his daddy race. I wanted to
go back to the moment I heard his first scream and the look on Jameson’s face
when he held him.

These are all moments that you take for granted in life
when they’re happening but they mean the most to you. And you don’t realize
when they’re happening that later you’ll wish like hell you could get that moment
back. The comforting thing about it was that even a smell can bring you back to
that one special moment.

Every time I smell nail polish
...
I remember my mom. Every time I smell rain
...
I think of being with Charlie at the track.
Every time I smell racing fuel
...
I think
of Jameson and the moment I fell in love with him.

Axel was starting to snore by now so I gently carried him
back over to his crib and laid him down. He curled around his piggy Jameson had
gotten for him, sighing contently.

There were also times when your memories bring you back
to horrible moments in your life that you want to forget, but can’t. Just the
same, even a smell can bring the moment crashing back to you as though you’re
living in that painful experience.

I still remember the day my mother died. Valentine’s Day
will also be a day I associate with the death of my mother. I’ll always
associate the Daytona 500 with the day my father died and I’ll always associate
a dark stairwell with Darrin.

I hadn’t forgotten about what Darrin did to us but I
moved on and focused on the positive side of it. Darrin showed Jameson and I
how unbreakable our bond with each other really was. He showed me what a
beautiful love story the two of us had. Sure, it was different, but that’s what
made it so goddamn perfect in my mind. We were writing it to our perfection.

It wasn’t something that everyone else had. It was us.
Crazy but exciting, irrational but stable and I felt pretty fucking lucky to
have found the other half of my heart’s missing piece. So instead of focusing
on the dark haunting moments, I focused on the ones that took my breath away.
The ones that made me feel like this life I was living, was epic.

I focused on the magic. I focused on the magic between a
man and a woman, the sparks, the fluttering hearts, the fairytale and the Mama
Wizard, her Dirty Heathen and their flailing spaz.

The next morning I got up early intending on making my
champion and our adorable spaz pancakes. I tried, I really did. Jameson didn’t let
me get more than an inch out of bed before his arms of steal were wrapped
around me, pulling me toward him. After being apart for so long I didn’t mind.
Pancakes could wait.

In the middle of our morning dyno-testing, Axel had other
plans. By ten he was screaming his adorable chubby little face off and crying
profusely that we hadn’t come and rescued him from his crib yet. I usually
would have freed him by now and we’d be eating breakfast, only now I was
enjoying dirty heathen for breakfast.

Eventually I managed to get Jameson to focus and we made
our way into his room. Not prepared was an understatement. He was not in his
crib but was instead standing next to his dresser, smiling, while removing all
the clothing from each drawer.

Perfect. I just put those away.

“Does he always do this?” Jameson asked leaning against
the doorframe, scratching his mess of hair.

“No
...
I’ve never
seen him get out of his crib before. I didn’t know he could get out.”

Axel looked up at us and handed Jameson Mr. Piggy and his
pajamas he’d taken off, leaving him in just his diaper. Looking down, Axel
watched his own tiny arms swinging back and forth as though he never knew they
could do that. Then, with a smirk, he looked up at us.

“I think he knows something we don’t.” I told Jameson.

“He does. He knows we have no clue what we’re doing. He
can smell the fear.”

I grinned. “Like a cougar?”

Jameson smacked my ass. “Not funny.”

“Can you change him?”

“Yeah
...
sure,” he
agreed with a wary expression.

I made my way down stairs to make breakfast thinking
they’d come down soon. An hour later, he finally came down stairs with Axel
walking behind him holding Mr. Piggy.

They were both wearing different clothes and Axel’s hair
was all wet.

“What took so long?” I asked placing the pancakes on the
table. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”

Jameson reached down and picked Axel up.

“He peed on me
...
and
him
...
”

Axel giggled in his arms and reached for me.

“Did you pee on daddy?” I cooed at him, giving him a
high-five.

“Yayaya
...
” he
babbled nodding his head. I personally found this new nodding thing adorable.
Every time you asked him a question, he nodded as though he was so proud he
could nod his head.