The Legend (49 page)

Van held
me while I cried. I cried for myself, I nearly lost my husband. I cried for Van
who had lost his family over Darrin so many years ago. I cried for Nancy having
lost such a great man. I cried for Jameson and him not knowing and how it would
crush him to know this.

Van told
me that Grady had admitted to everything and that he understood that charges
were going to be pressed against him. And then he broke the last bit of news to
me.

“He wants
to tell Jameson himself.”

My eyes went
wide. “Does he have a death wish?”

Van
chuckled, his demeanor relaxing as he sat back on the stool in the kitchen.
“That’s what I said but he knows what he’s done. He admitted everything as soon
as Axel cornered him in the shop.”

“Axel
knows?”

“Yeah, he
and the boys were the first to find out when we did the inspection on Jameson’s
car and found the partial welds.”

Running my
hands over my face, I took in everything he was telling me and wishing it
wasn’t true.

“So what
happens now?”

“Well,”
Van shifted his position on the chair, “now we decide if telling him ahead of
time is in our best interest.”

“We can’t
lie to him Van. He needs to know. If he found out from anyone besides us, it
would destroy him more than it already has.”

“Okay, so
we tell him tonight.” Van stood as if he was ready.

“Uh, hold
up there big guy,” I held up my hand patting his overly large shoulder, “not
tonight. He’s tired.”

“But we
tell him soon
...
before Grady has
a chance to.”

We agreed
and Van left and I was left trying to figure out what the hell happened to our
lives. Just when you think things are improving you get slapped in the goddamn
face and it knocks you right on your ass again.

When I
came to bed, Jameson was awake staring at the ceiling, the lights off. The
broken clock next to the bed confirmed my theory that he had some reactions to
anger, just not around me.

He didn’t
move when I slipped into bed, barely acknowledging I even came into the room.

The
exhaustion got to me and I was asleep within a few minutes.

I woke up
alone in the bed again. From my place in the bed, I could see Jameson was in
the bathroom on the floor. Being as quiet as I could, I approached the bathroom
for a closer look to make sure he was okay. He sat there in a pair of his boxer
briefs and a bottle of Jack Daniels at his bare feet. His head was rested
against the tub with his legs outstretched. If I looked close enough, I could
see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

It hurt me
to see him in pain, to push us away because he didn’t think we would
understand. If anything, I understood completely. I may have had time to
prepare when my dad was taken but it didn’t help with dealing with it.

Death
isn’t easy. It’s not met to be.

I remember
feeling the way he’s feeling but I also had a new baby to take care of, a
distraction. But don’t think I didn’t stay up late at night and cry for the
loss that I felt.

I wanted
to comfort him, take him in my arms and never let go but he didn’t want that
right now. I wanted to tell him about Grady, but I couldn’t, not right now. I
wanted to protect him, be his arm restraints and keep him from getting hurt.

I let him
be as I always did these past few weeks because like I said, I didn’t want to
push. The thing with Jameson was that if you pushed, the farther away he pushed.
You had to know when to say when and give him the time to say when.

The
morning of Jimi’s funeral was tough. Everyone took another limo to the cemetery
and Jameson and I were set to ride alone at his request.

I kept my
steps light walking up the stairs knowing we had to leave soon.

And there,
with his hands covering his face, sat my husband in the corner of our room next
to the balcony. I saw it for the first time, something in all the years I have
been by his side, that I’ve never seen before. Jameson was crying. I’ve seen
tears before, but I’ve never seen him sobbing. It was hard to watch but harder
to pry so I walked back into the hall and sat against the wall, crying myself.

Within a
few minutes, I heard him walking across the room with his cane. He stopped in
front of me eyeing me curiously, his eyes swollen and red. “Are you coming
honey?” His hand reached out for me as his chin quivered.

Nodding, I
took his hand and together, though nothing was said, we dealt with the pain. We
dealt with the suffering and the reality that we had to deal with. That’s the
hardest part.
Dealing with it.

Arm Restraints – Axel

“Are you
coming
...
?” Lily looked down at me sitting on the
floor of our apartment.

“Yes,” I whispered
so my voice wouldn’t break. If she sensed my emotion, she too might crumble. I
made the decision to be strong today and that I would be.

Her
expression softened by the ache in my voice.

“Axel,”
her fingertips traced lightly over the shape of my lips. “You don’t always have
to be so strong.”

I smiled
under her fingers and touched the side of her face and then her stomach. “I
know. I want to be for him.”

Lily knew
that today, of any days, I needed to be strong for my dad.

The rain
began to fall, calming in its wet musky smell, when the limo pulled up the
drive. I watched out of the corner of my eye to see the leaves dancing in the
street with the subtle winds.

I sighed
getting in. This was not what I wanted to be doing right now but I knew I’d be
forced to attend and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to; without a shred of a
doubt I wanted to pay respect to my grandpa
...
it
was that I didn’t think I could handle it.

Outside of
Ryder’s funeral, I had only been to three funerals in my life and I couldn’t tell
you anything about them as I was too young to remember them. Ryder’s funeral
was different from this.

When I got
out of the car at the cemetery, I couldn’t but only because of him.

In all my
nineteen years, I had never seen my dad cry, ever. I never saw him cry when my
mom left him. I never saw him cry when his team plane crashed and he lost
members of his team. I never saw him cry when his Ryder was killed mere months
after that plane crash.

If he had
cried, I never saw. I only ever saw the strong confident father he was to me. I
saw the legend make his mark in history as the driver with the fiery
disposition that could rattle even the toughest.

But there,
under a group of birch trees, he sat dressed in all black on the ground with
his head against his arms that rested on his knees, crying; his body shaking
with the sobs for the entire world to see. My dad was always good at letting
his family see one side and the rest of the world saw Jameson Riley the NASCAR
driver. But right now, he was a broken man who’d lost his father.

I knew the
dangers of racing, as did he, and grandpa—he knew as well. Even though we all
knew, we never thought it, would take grandpa’s life someday.

Mom was a
mess. Grandma had yet to say a word to anyone today but offered her misty
smile. Casten said nothing; just stared at his feet as uncle Spencer prepared
to give his speech.

With all
this going on around me, nothing compared to seeing my dad crying, my hero, the
unbreakable man I’d looked up to my entire life, crying, shaking in broken
sobs. He thought this was his fault and just like everything else, he took the
weight on his shoulders.

He never
came toward the grave. Instead, he remained in the shadows of the birch trees
while my mom and I watched him. I knew mom wanted to comfort him as did I, but
there was no way for us too. He lost the greatest man he’d ever known and he
lost his hero. Whether you’re made of steel or not, that will take its toll on
you.

Nothing I
could say would ever make that better. Nothing anyone said would make a
difference to him right now. All we could do was try to let him know we were
here for him. We would be his arm restraints if he needed.

It was
stupid looking back on it. None of us should have been out there, especially
not grandpa.

When the
last words were spoken by Spencer, mom walked over to dad and collapsed beside
him, pulling him into her arms. He clutched her tightly as though his reason
for breathing was her, frantically needing her closer to him. His head slumped
forward against her knees as she put her hands in his hair, comforting him in a
way only she could.

Arie left
with Aunt Emma while Casten and I sat near the grave, watching mom and dad. You
never expect to see your parents break but when you do, I guarantee you it
won’t be what you expected. You look up to your parents for guidance on how to
act when challenging times occur but what happens when they react in a way
you’re not expecting?

“Should we
go?” Casten asked softly. “It feels wrong watching him cry.”

“Yeah,” I
stood motioning with my head toward the car. “Everyone is back at our house.”

The media
and fans gathered at the funeral home we used in town but no one knew he wasn’t
actually buried there. It was a front on our part just because in sprint car
racing, Jimi was more popular than Elvis. We had to take security measures.

Spencer,
Casten and me took off to Elma a few weeks after grandpa was cremated and had
the ashes in hand. His wishes were to be spread across Grays Harbor Raceway
with Charlie, my other grandpa who died right after I was born.

Casten and
I left my parent’s there and soon they left since the media was basically
invading them. When they pulled in the driveway, dad walked down the road that
led to the sprint car shop.

Mom walked
inside to greet us.

“Where’s
he going?” Arie asked walking out onto the front porch where we were standing.

“He said
he wants to be alone when he sees it,” Mom said softly, tears spilled down her
cheeks. She reached out to hug Casten who wrapped his arms around her. “We
should give him some space for now.”

We left
him alone, for a few hours and then I decided to go check on him. I understood
how scared he was and angry and he had every right to feel that way.

He’d been out
there in the shop for hours before anyone braved walking in. We knew him well
enough to know it was best to just leave him alone at times like this. Luckily
his shoulder would prevent him from hurling any transmissions through the wall
this time like he did when Ryder was killed.

He looked
tired, very tired. I knew how he felt. It was hard to sleep these days.

Dad hid it
well but you could tell he still felt responsible for it. He’d never let on to
others though, he just said, “It’s an accident,” but I don’t think he’d
convinced himself of that just yet.

When he
heard the shop door click shut behind me, he looked up.

His face
was that of a guilty man. Once again—he took the brunt on his shoulders. For a
moment, I couldn’t speak. This was my father, the unbreakable man, the legend
...
crying.

He quickly
brushed away the tears and cleared his throat. “Did your mom send you after
me?”

“No, I
sent myself after you.”

“You
didn’t have to.” He stood straightening out his jacket and tie he’d pulled away
from his neck. For a moment, he stared at me. His silence was a loaded weapon
and seemed to be a mask behind his indifference. “We should get back anyway.”

I knew him
well enough to know he wasn’t going to talk about it right now. He closed
himself off.

Few people
could get through to my dad. Actually only three and one was gone.

Arm Restraints – Jameson

There was
something that occurred to me, actually a few things, in the shop that
afternoon as I sat inside his sprint car, the metal jagged mess of the car wasn’t
easy to sit in. For one, after looking at my car, I knew that I was lucky to be
alive.

But there
was something I couldn’t bring myself to admit for a long time. It had been
brewing since Ryder’s death. I was scared. And it wasn’t that I was scared on the
track, the speed didn’t bother me. Neither did a wreck. What scared me was
leaving my family.

That meant
one thing.

I hated
that too. This wasn’t me but then again, it wasn’t about me any longer and I
finally realized that. This was about my entire family.

I steered
clear of everyone inside the house, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I
respected the way others dealt with death by discussing Jimi’s life and that
wasn’t me. I didn’t want to talk about it.

So instead
of saying something disrespectful to someone who tried to push their thoughts
in my face, I made my way up to our bedroom.