The Legend (61 page)

Tate came
by again and sat next to Jameson.

“It sure
is nice to see your brooding ass back here.” Tate said with a genuine smile at
Jameson.

“It’s good
to be back.” Jameson returned the smile. “Thanks again for helping Sway and
Kyle so much.”

“Hey, no
problem,” He shifted his weight in the chair appearing comfortable. “How are
you feeling these days?”

“Good.”
Jameson nodded. “A little sore but it’s good. Have you seen Easton?”

“Yeah, I
saw him this morning. He’s fine, really he is.” Tate assured Jameson.

Jameson
felt bad but Easton Levi went back to racing in the
Nationwide
series upon his return. Easton knew it wasn’t a full time ride going into it.
But he still felt bad that the kid got a taste of the big time only to be back
in Nationwide.

“Don’t
worry about it man,” Tate said. “Easton has a bright future ahead of him and he
knows that.”

Rusty, a
driver known for having an attraction to me that Jameson despised, gave me a
head nod and bumped my shoulder when we walked past me. I smiled but offered no
outward greeting but could see my husband scowling from his place slouched in a
chair beside Bobby.

He
appeared as if he wanted to say something but remained quiet and looked the
other way avoiding Rusty as he tried to make small talk.

When
everyone had left that night, I found myself wrapped in Jameson’s arms as he
stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t
know what to say to you sometimes. I want to help you but I don’t think you
need help. Do you?”

“I don’t
need anyone’s help.” His voice was cold but held the love I always knew. He
wasn’t angry with me. “All that I’m asking for is for people to give me time.”

I said
nothing more and he nodded as though he appreciated that I wasn’t pushing him
to talk.

“Thank
you,” he finally said his voice softer as his lips found my forehead in the
darkness. “It helps knowing someone understands me. I feel like I’m alone in
this until I look at you.”

“I know
you’re scared but I’m not giving up on you. I won’t let you give up either. We
won’t let you.”

He looked
at me knowing what I meant when I said we. Our eyes locked.

“I feel
like now that I’m back that it’s everything that it was before, always twisting
the truth to make it what they want but no one sees it for what it is. It
doesn’t matter what I say to them to defend myself. My actions have been, and
always will be, irrelevant and twisted. I’ll never understand why they try to
paint a picture to a scene they’ll never understand. Just like with Brody
today. He had no idea the frustrations I was feeling inside that car. It didn’t
matter to him anymore than it matter to the media.”

“I know
baby.” Twisting in his arms, my chin rested on his chest watching his tired
eyes. There’s times when no words need to be spoken. It’s a time when you just
remember. You remember that life has a way of rearranging and uplifting
everything you had ever known. You don’t know why or even how but it happened.
I knew that Jameson would eventually find his groove again. He may be hanging
out on the apron right now but he’d venture up to the high side again, with
time, and in his own way.

When my
fingers traced the band of his boxers, he smiled halfheartedly and turned on
his side, his hands roaming my body.

“I
absolutely hate it when I see another man touch you.” His fingers dug into my
skin, his stare penetrating. “Instantly it’s like a sharp knife to my chest
that he touched something that belongs to me.”

“Wow,” I
laughed when his body came in full contact with mine, his weight settling on
me. “I see you haven’t lost your possessive side.”

“Honey,”
his lips found mine. “I’ll always be possessive of something that means the
world to me.”

“Can I ask
you something?”

He pulled
back to look at me. “Please don’t ask me to hit you again.”

“I won’t.”
I returned the smile that he offered. “What made you write that letter to me?”

His brow
pulled together, an emotion I hadn’t seen in a while settled over him. “You
needed to know and I wasn’t sure I could get it out…through spoken words.”

The hand
that was cupping my cheek traveled down my arm, over my hip and then moved
behind my knee hitching it up higher on his hip. Groaning at the contact, I
knew what he wanted when I felt the camshaft lifting.

In the
shadows of the night, in his arms, I let him know that though he was scared, I
was here to give him a little air pressure adjustment if needed.

The
morning of the race, the crew diligently prepared the back-up car for inspection.
They said little and kept focused until the car was pushed through inspection
and on the grid waiting.

Though
Jameson said nothing at first, he appreciated everything they had done for him
over the last six months, and this weekend. The real display came when for the
first time in the six months, Jameson walked inside the hauler the day of a
race for the team meeting.

They understood him, in an idolizing
solidarity, his team, respected that here was a man, on the floor, calling out
to them for support and here they were offering what they could. Respect for
what he’d overcome. Respect for him running the apron.

  
Jameson let out an emotional chuckle when the team huddled around him, patting his
back and shaking his hand. I could see the emotion in his eyes that told me
exactly what he was feeling. The guilt, the heavy burden was lifted a little
that afternoon.

There was
something that most never considered, and something I knew when Jameson walked
to the grid that afternoon, and that was that Jameson wouldn’t back down.
Scrapping for every position, he drove smart and maintained that instinctive
hunger inside a championship driver. That hadn’t changed.

Apron – Jameson

I was
tense and on edge when I got inside the car. I had to blink the perspiration
out of my eyes just to see the gauges that I couldn’t see even if I needed to.
I kept moving in the car, feeling uncomfortable and sore. My body was burning
from the exertion and sweating from the heat of the afternoon.

 “Come
back in.” Kyle said twenty laps into the Coca-Cola 600. “We’re
draggin
’ a bumper bar through three and four.”

Just like
practice, it was hard to feel the car.

If you
counted the duels, the Budweiser Shootout and the All-Star race, I had been
gone for fifteen races. That’s not easy on a driver, or the crew who had been
dealing with one personality all year and now had a completely different one to
deal with now.

I knew
eventually we’d get it but it was frustrating for many when we weren’t
communicating like we had in the past.

When it
was time, getting back into the racing groove wasn’t hard. Having lived this
lifestyle for the last forty some years, it was like coming home.

After the
headaches, blurred vision, sensitivity to lights, nausea, confusion,
irritability and intensive physical therapy on my shoulder and core that I had
endured over the last four months
...
racing was
easy compared to that.

When the
doctors told me, “You’ll be out for the season.” I laughed at them.

No injury
would keep me away that long. But it did knock me out of contention for another
championship and six months of the season.

Distracted
by the rush of everything, I also knew there was a part of me, deep down, that
wasn’t sure this was what I wanted anymore. The morning of the race I watched
the walls, the ceiling, the carpet, the tools, all looking for an answer I
didn’t have but one. I wanted to retire.

Part of
me, and I wasn’t sure how much, knew that I would feel this way eventually. I
saw the change in my dad the last few years he raced. It happens. You see it
more often in the kids that start racing at a very young age. At some point in
their life, they wonder if they would have interest in anything else. I knew my
interest was in racing but for me, things had changed.

You still
live for the sport but there comes a time when it’s not all that matters any
longer.

Though I
saw the fear in her eyes and touch, Sway would never ask me to retire because
she knew damn well if she did, I would. We experienced that back in 2003 when I
nearly walked away from everything because of Darrin.

But my
wife knew me better than anyone. She knew this wasn’t an easy decision for me.
Look how many years it took me to discover my feelings for her. I should have
known the decision to retire wouldn’t be any easier on me. But I think it’s
been coming for a while.

My dad
used to say to me pointing to his chest. “Son, if you don’t feel it here, you
don’t feel it there.”

Memories
can be a bitch sometimes. Every time I thought it couldn’t hurt anymore, it did
and it reminded me that his memory was still very real. I wouldn’t have it any
other way. I didn’t want to forget.

Apron – Sway

The race
had fallen into a comfortable grove with the occasional shuffle. Teams pit windows
had come up and the talk became strategy.

If you
were on the outside when pit lane came up, it could easily end in disaster.
Jameson sometimes had a habit of running high which meant he ran into the problem
of getting across traffic down on the apron to pit lane.

My
fingernails disappeared quickly as did the pretzel in my hand, the nervous
energy was pliable all around us and it seemed it was radiating from me in
waves.

The race
started up again after pit stops, building with intensity that all night races
had. Brody got a nose under Jameson and took seventh from him. Jameson brushed
the wall but kept control and managed to get back seventh when Brody rubbed
against Paul and drew the caution.

Every race
is different. Different patterns, different rhythms but they all have their own
feel. This one in particular had its own feel. The cameras remained in
Jameson’s car through the weekend and every chance they got the reporting
broadcasting station was analyzing every shift in the car Jameson made and
every outburst he had too. This seemed to be every twenty laps when something
wouldn’t go his way.

“Good jump
out of two. Nice move bud.”

“I’m
starving. Please tell me this race is almost over?” Jameson asked surprising
us. It was the first hint of laughter we heard all race rang through the radio.

Nancy, who
was beside me on the pit box, clutched my hand as a smiled graced her. If felt
good seeing her smile. She was just as nervous as I was but that laughter from
her son seemed to calm her slightly.

“Fifty to
go bud,” Kyle said. “It’s not easy coming back and NASCAR’s longest night is
your first race back.”

“Fuck
yeah, fifty to go. I can deal with that.” He was quiet for a minute and then
asked. “Do you think they would deliver pizza?”

“I don’t
see why not.” Kyle teased smiling at me when I nodded to him. “Sway said she’d
order it for you.”

“That’s my
girl.” Jameson laughed.

I did
order pizza and when my husband pulled onto the grid with a fourth place finish
for his first race back, I set a pizza and myself, on the hood of his car.

Jameson
said little to the media other than, “I’m hungry so yeah, good race, thanks to
my sponsors and everyone who supported me these last few months. I appreciated
everything you guys have done. I may not show it all the time but if you know
me, you understand what I’m feeling right now.”

As with
any race these days, they interview Kyle to who shoved a slice of pizza in his
mouth as we all sat around the pit eating pizza.

“Kyle, do
you feel Jameson gave everything he could to the team today or do you feel like
it’s going to take some time for him to get in the groove again?”

Kyle
looked at Jameson who smirked shaking his head at the imposing suggestion that
Jameson wouldn’t give a race everything he had.

Kyle
summed it up better than anyone could.

“I’ll tell
you guys and everyone else who thinks that they know anything about Jameson
Riley as a person. You know him as a driver. You see the side that is represented
to you. But you’ll never understand that no one will ever fight for him, and
this team, harder than this group of guys’ right here.” Kyle said to the media
motioning to all of us gathered around the car eating pizza. “There will never
be a time when he has ever given up on us or this team. We offer him that very
same respect.”

Running
the apron is needed sometimes. It’s the portion of the track that allows
drivers to get up to speed before moving up to the rush. Sometimes you’re not
ready for the rush. And sometimes, there are others there to guide you into and
help take the pressure off.