The Legend (75 page)

Arie
watched the crowd carefully but her eyes were on her dad’s sprint car as they
lined up side-by-side. “I really miss this.” She said bumping my shoulder. “I
miss you guys.”

I wrapped
my arms around her kissing her hair. “We miss you too sweetie.”

My heart
still leaped anytime I saw that four wide salute. In honor of Jimi they
modified this to a three wide, and the butterflies still danced when I saw him
drift up the track and pass cars on the high side.

Just a few
laps into the race, you could see the guys moving the wings back searching for traction.
I don’t care how good of a driver you are. Setting these cars up is hard and a
guessing game because the track is always changing. What may have worked the
last time you were here won’t tonight. What worked in the heat races suddenly
doesn’t in the main. You’re fighting wheel spin
pushin
’
the wing back and battling for everything
you’re
worth
just to hang onto fifth.

Taking a
place near the fence, I could feel the dirt pelt my face every time he flew by
me. I watched his hands in the car, smooth movements and the pop when he let
off the throttle halfway down the front stretched. Then he blipped the throttle
just once to drift into the corner and back on it until he reached three and
four. He had the lines figured out and was working on second place with three
laps to go when they called a caution.

I thought
for sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off since Tyler Sprague, one of his
drivers with JAR Racing, was getting a good jump off the line every time.

When they threw
the green flag, Tyler got that same good jump on him but lagged on the
backstretch for some reason. Jameson caught him and threw the car hard into one
and two the following lap and then crossed over to take the lead from him.

Next flag
was the checkered and my voice was gone. I’d never screamed so loud for him to
win in all my life.

Jameson
brought the car to just below the flag stand and got out to do the wing dance.
It was also the first wing dance I had seen since his win in Williams Groove
three years ago.

I lived
for those wing dances. The wing dance had always been my favorite. I have this
photograph at our house that has Jameson standing on rear wheels of his sprint
car, beating his hands on the wing, at seventeen and Axel at that same age, same
track, doing that very same thing.

After they
got my energetic husband down off the wing, I went down onto the track to
celebrate with him and Axel who had pulled his car alongside of him.

“I’ll be
honest here,” Jameson laughed when the announcer pushed the microphone in his
face after asking how he felt winning again. Running his hand through his hair
and then across the back of his sweaty neck, his smile was breathtaking. “I
wasn’t sure I could win again and to do it at a track that I grew up racing on,
it is exactly what I needed.”

It was the
happiest I had seen him after a race in long time.

Turning to
me, he patted the back of the car on the roll cage. “Wanna ride?”

“You know
I do.” Climbing up there, I rode on the back of his sprint car back to the
pits.

Best win
ever.

When he
brought the car around to the pits, Jameson was all grins again when he heard
the song his dad played for him after his last Knoxville Nationals win,
Chelsea
Dagger
.

Axel and
Lane stood by the stereo and turned it up dancing around.

It was
just like our summer only now we had a little bit bigger celebrations.

I know
what all of you want to know. When was the first pit fight with Rowdy Riley and
who got that left handed pop from the southpaw first?

The night
he got his first win and it was from a driver he knew pretty well having raced
against him when he was younger.
Parker Dunn.
Jameson’s feelings still hadn’t improved on Parker and Parker was the same
trash talker he was when he was eighteen. You’d think being damn near fifty he
would have mellowed out but no, he didn’t.

The fight
didn’t even start over racing. Naturally, the same as it was back when we were
kids, was because of me.

Parker
made some smart ass comment about my ass when he walked by and Jameson wasn’t
letting him get away with it. He shoved him, Parker shoved him back and then
before I knew it, swings were being thrown.

Parker
didn’t talk much crap after that. Or maybe it was the broken jaw that seemed to
mute his obnoxious ass? Either way, I was okay with that and celebrating my
husband’s win with him.

Drivers
and crews stood in a line all clapping as we coasted past to his pit near the
gate. It felt good to see him being accepted by a crowd that thought he came
out here to show off. That wasn’t what it was about at all.

Some
thought Jameson had lost his spark but looking at him now, face flushed from
the heat of the night, sweat covering the majority of his body, his green eyes
dark with anger, he hadn’t lost that spark. He hadn’t lost himself one but. If
anything, he found himself here.

When he
spotted that Arie and the rest of the Cup team had come out, he smiled grew
wider. For two hours he stood there talking with them, fans, other drivers,
anybody who wanted a piece of him got it. After three hours, I wanted a little
piece two when his racing suit was tied around his waist and the heat of the
night got to me. It wasn’t helping that his muscles were calling to me in ways
only he knew.

His arms
circled around me as his warm laughter brought me back to the moment and I
couldn’t wait to resort back to my pit lizard days. Seeing him like this, in
the thrill of a victory was like watching his soul come alive.

I knew
what this salacious behavior meant. He looked at me.

It was a
look that made you feel like even in a crowd, you were the only one that
mattered.

The heat
of the night made his hair stand on end, his cheeks flush. Jameson, as most
would agree, had intensity in his eyes. And looking at him now, my boy was
back.

Pressed to
the side of his hauler in the secure shadows, he kissed me and swept his hands
down my sides over my ass and then pulled to wrap my legs around his waist.

Deepening
an already passionate kiss, his hips shifted into mine. “Fuck honey, I want you
right now against the side of this hauler.”

Jameson’s
had always had a secret weapon that could unlock Fort Knox if needed. He knew
that too. It was his smile. And he was giving it to me. And I was unlocking the
gates.

Since our
kids were here, I made him take me inside the hauler behind closed doors.

We didn’t
have long and I’m not sure how but I managed to tie him up with tie downs,
straddled him, and took care of business like the Mama Wizard could. I thought
of changing my Mama Wizard name when I became a grandma but decided against it.
I didn’t need to feel any older than I already was.

Back to the point.
My dirty heathen writhing in please beneath me with his hands tied over his
head, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, crying out in pleasure.

Hot
fucking damn was an understatement.

“My god.”
He
breathed trying to catch his breath when finished.

“That’s
right.” I nodded with a smug grin. “I’m good.”

“That you
are honey
...
but untie me.”

“Oh right
...
” it took me all of two seconds to realize
that I had gotten a little worked up and the knot I tied was for Fort Knox and
the shit wasn’t coming undone without assistance.

Jameson
looked at me, “Don’t joke. Please tell me you have something to get these off
with.”

“In my
defense, I didn’t think they’d get stuck.”

“Oh my
god,” he groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’ll go
get Spencer.”

His eyes
went frantic. “The fuck you will! Get back here!”

“Well what
am I supposed to do?” We were both naked in his hauler and he was tied to the wall
with shocks and springs. It was laughable when you think about it.

“Cut
them.” He said looking around for anything sharp.

“With what?”
I
couldn’t understand how this wasn’t making any sense to him.

“I don’t
know. Go find something but don’t you dare bring Spencer back in here. I swear
to god Sway. I will never talk to you again if you do that.”

“Okay!”

“I’m
serious.” He reminded me. “I’ll kick your ass if he comes in here.”

“It’s a
little hard to kick my ass when you’re still tied up, isn’t it?”

“Sway?”

“Yeah?”

“Go.”

I couldn’t
find anything and had to ask Spencer. It was either him or Axel, the only two
left out there and I wasn’t asking my son to untie his naked dad. That wouldn’t
be right at all.

Needless
to say, Jameson wouldn’t talk to me the entire way back to the hotel because
Spencer saw him naked.

So dramatic.

To get
Spencer back for seeing him naked, the next morning when Spencer was in the
bathroom at the hotel, Jameson duck tapped the door shut and left Spencer at
the hotel for seven hours inside that bathroom. When we opened the door he was
sitting on the floor with braids in his hair, lipstick on and painting his
toenails. He claims he was bored out of his mind and moments away from eating
his own arm so he pleaded mental insanity.

Spencer
got Jameson back though when we were leaving back to Mooresville the next
morning.

We had
stopped for gas and were just about to get inside the truck when Spencer
came
flying around the side of the hauler and screamed for
us all to get inside. We did but then I noticed Jameson wasn’t in the truck
with us.

“Where’s
Jameson?”

“In the
hauler,” Spencer goaded pulling onto the freeway.

“He’s
going to kill you.”

Spencer
wasn’t that great of a driver and managed to take every turn as sharp as he
could, hit every bump he could and slammed on the breaks like there was a cat
crossing every few miles.

When we
opened the door an hour later, Jameson was inside of his sprint car wearing his
helmet.

“Oh man,
we thought we lost you.” Aiden chuckled holding his stomach. “Were you in there
this whole time?”

“That
fucker told me to check for a drum and then closed the door!” Jameson shouted
slamming his helmet into the ground.

He looked
as though he had been cage fighting.

“Where’s
my fucking brother?” He asked running my knuckles over his bloody lip. He
sniffed sensing blood coming from his nose. Sure enough, there was.

Spencer
hid behind Alley who was laughing just as hard. “Act your age Jameson.” He
scolded me. “You’re being ridiculous.”

The pranks
were starting to get out of hand but you know what, it was the spark our family
needed.

To
celebrate Jameson’s win that he got at Sunset, we threw a party. It’d been a
while since we had one and after that party, we kind of swore we would never do
it again.

I was in
the kitchen getting food together when the real shit started to hit the fan.
It’d been close to an hour since I saw Jameson disappear with the boys to the
lake where we had our house boat and thought it was time to check on them. Most
everyone was down at the lake as that’s where the party seemed to be. Packing
up the cooler with snacks, I started to drag it to the truck when I saw Willie
stumbling up the driveway with his cup. “Do you have matches? I was told to
come get matches?”

  
“Yes, they’re in my pocket.” He went to reach for my ass but I slapped his hand
away. “No, I will give them to Jameson. The last time I gave you matches you
set my living room curtains on fire.”

Willie
shrugged. “I was trying to light a candle for you because you were crying. Have
some compassion. Do you want some jungle juice?” he slurped through his
princess straw.

“That has
grape cool-aid, 151 and absinthe in it. It’s a fucking miracle that you’re
still alive.”

“It’s good
shit.” Willie slurped again. “And it’s strawberry cool-aid.”

“Oh sorry,
my bad,” I pushed the cooler at him, “take this down there.”

We no
sooner turned down the boat ramp and I saw a disaster forming. Nothing new for
our family though.

I wasn’t
exactly sure what they were doing but all the boys were surrounding the house
boat that had fireworks on the roof. I wasn’t exactly sure what the plan was
either but it smelled like disaster.

Ami,
Justin’s wife found me and the concern on her face explained a lot. “You might
want to get Casten down from there.”

“Yeah,”
Eyeing the boat house, I was sure of the outcome, “it appears that way.”