Pinched – When a race car on the inside squeezes an outside car by the outside wall. This will cause the outside car to slow down and follow.
It seemed my schedule had become a revolving door. Home, away from home, the track, the shop, home and away again, and eventually I was never anywhere but going somewhere and never where I truly wanted to be.
I found myself saying, “I’ll see you next week,” and then that turned into, “I guess maybe I’ll see you next month.”
Then, before I knew it, I felt like would never be an end to any of it. There was no commitment to home life and no responsibility. And it also seemed when I was at home there were so many things that needed my presence that none of them got the attention they deserved. Like my family.
During the offseason I thought I would get a break since I didn’t win the championship but Alley had my schedule full. First was a photo shoot the week after the banquet. I didn’t like doing these things for the simple fact that that wasn’t me.
Alley went with me and I tried to get out of it numerous times. Her answer every time was, “Suck it up, asshole.”
“Why do you always schedule this shit for me?” I walked about as slow as I could. She noticed and shoved me forward. “I don’t like getting my picture taken.”
Alley glared as we opened the door to the studio. “It’s part of the job. You should know that by now.”
When they, as in the flamboyant guy behind the lens and the Jersey snob beside him, told me what I’d be doing, I said. “No. I’m not doing that.”
“You don’t really have a choice, Jameson,” Alley said barely making eye contact with me. I had a feeling she was holding back on what they really wanted to do.
“Oh, yes, I do. I can leave.” She caught me by my hooded sweatshirt before I even made it two feet.
“You will get your ass back in there.” I couldn’t argue with that. These photo shoots were what sponsors paid for. Like it or not this was part of the game.
I did not enjoy that photo shoot at all. To me it was as invasive as that damn vasectomy. To add fuel to that particular fire, they put oil on me.
Fucking baby oil.
You can only imagine what that did to my mood after that.
I gathered that this was why Alley avoided my eyes this entire time. She knew what they had planned for me. It was a planned execution as Casten would say.
When Alley finally looked at me, as they lathered me up again, I mouthed, “I hate you.”
She fucking winked.
My wife’s reaction to the photographs was good. I threw them on the coffee table and flopped down next to her on the couch. “I hate doing these.”
She took one glance at them and gasped. “Holy shit, Jameson! Those are fucking hot!”
My mood came around and I nodded with arrogance. “Naturally, now,” I pulled her onto my lap, “show me some love. It was a horrible experience.”
“Oh, I plan to.” But she didn’t. She was far too engrossed in the pictures.
The one of me with the top button of my jeans undone with me grabbing my gear seemed to be her favorite. That was aside from the one with me, barefoot, in a tux with the tie loose, buttons undone and my head bent forward leaning against the car with my helmet in one hand and the other tucked in my pants pocket.
“Jesus, there’s nothing sexier than you wearing a tux barefoot.”
I gave her a funny look and she laughed. “It’s sexy, believe me.”
The only one I liked was the one with my fingers laced in a chain-link fence, my eyes focused on the camera, glaring. All that was truly in focus were my eyes and the green leaving the rest of the photograph in black and white with the smoke billowing around me. Below the picture was a caption for the magazine that said:
NEVER UNDERESTIMATE ROWDY RILEY
Funny enough, that was the photograph where they doused me in oil.
“How the hell did they get oil on you?” Sway asked.
I gave her a glare. “It wasn’t planned. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”
Sway was too engrossed in the pictures again to notice my departure.
Over the years, I wasn’t surprised to find drivers just like I was. Rager Sweet, driver for my number 99 Solar Seals sponsored sprint car, was one of them.
Did I mention he was driving one of my sprint cars?
Yeah, he was. Which meant he was working for me.
He was gritty, hotheaded and downright arrogant at times. Just like I was at his age. Who am I kidding? I was still that way. I liked to think I had a little reserve though.
Rager did not.
When he was suspended for the final two races for fighting once again, I had to sit him down. It was entertaining to me that I was talking about fighting when I myself, struggled with this one. It’d been years since I took a swing at another driver though.
So I started by saying what Tate told me one afternoon when I shoved him after the Bristol night race for a pass I didn’t feel needed to be as dirty as he made it.
“This sport doesn’t need you.”
It was a harsh statement, I know, but it was the truth and back then, I needed to hear it.
He laughed as I thought he would but listened. That was the one thing I appreciated about Rager, and that was that he did hear you out. Whether he followed the advice was yet to be seen.
“You need to realize that this sport doesn’t need you. You don’t make sprint car racing and I guarantee it will go on without you. That’s the harsh reality of it all.”
“I never said it needed me. But I do provide a certain... appeal.”
“Sure you do. But there’s a point when you become a liability to me.”
“Are you saying I’m fired?” Rager asked leaning against the wall in the shop, his hat pulled down so all I saw were the shadows of his eyes.
“No, I’m not saying that. But this... ” I motioned to the paperwork in front of me from Solar Seals stating they had enough and would consider pulling out of the sponsorship. “This stupidity is a liability to me and the team. You need to control your emotions.”
“Like you do?”
“This isn’t about me, kid.”
Rager shook his head. “What is it then?”
“Let me ask you something ...” I leaned back in my chair relaxing. “What kind of appeal do you think you provide to this team?”
“Winning,” he snorted. “I won more feature events then all your other drivers, including your prodigy son, last year combined.”
I laughed, I had to or I was about to give this kid a taste of my own gritty side. “You know, winning helps, and you’ve got that sure. But that’s not everything. Sponsors want consistency and how do you suppose that will happen when you can’t stay in a race?”
Rager didn’t say any more, just stared back at me. He knew if he didn’t win, he was in the wall or being towed back to the pits. And though having a driver who gave it everything was great, sponsors wanted a driver who was consistent.
“You have to look at what you want to do. You spend more time in the faces of the other driver than racing. Racing is what you’re paid to do. Me, your sponsors, we pay you to finish and unless you run up front, win, snag top fives and be consistent, you’ll be looking for another job. That’s just the way it is in this sport.”
He nodded but said nothing more. My final piece of advice was something my dad told me often in my rookie season.
“There’s a fine line, Rager,” my head tipped to one side. “A very fine line,”
When he left, I sat in my office enjoying the quiet. My thoughts went back to the gnawing feeling the off-season brought with it each year. I felt like I was always going somewhere but where? Pinched against the wall?
The off-season was always the same, only now I had more responsibility between the teams. I understood how my dad felt back in 2003 and trying to control me when I had to deal with Rager. I also understood how Simplex felt now seeing from the outside.
Simplex was a family-owned business and had been from day one. They didn’t like any negative impact. If a driver representing them was suspended for a race, that didn’t look good.
Sponsors are image-conscious, as they should be.
Rager Sweet was just a driver, a twenty-year-old kid really. He had no idea that if that car wasn’t on the track, Solar Seals and PowerPlus were not getting the publicity that they paid for. In turn, I wasn’t holding up my end of the bargain. The guys back at the shop suffered because they spent hundreds of hours preparing the car only to have it destroyed by him. Come Monday or whenever it was they saw the car again, they repaired everything he broke only to have him destroy another one the next week.
That was where the real eye-opener came for me when I was his age. You don’t realize how much of a team effort all this was until you walked through one of our shops during the week.
The other eye-opener came for me at that race with Tate, the night race at Bristol. We had been battling hard all race and the car was pretty much destroyed when we left. There wasn’t a straight piece of metal on that car and the engine, I ran it hard. Brakes were destroyed and the gears were shot, too.
Well, when the car got back to Mooresville, I watched how it was pulled from the hauler, torn down, inspected and how each part was carefully checked for wear. New parts were put back on, mechanics placed a new engine and new suspension. A new body was put on, painted, polished and put back in the shop for our next trip to Bristol or Martinsville. What I never realized until then, was how many guys touched that car afterward. When I destroyed a car, something like twelve different guys back at the shop spent Monday fixing it. When you thought about it like that, everyone had a job to do, everyone was paid from that money that the sponsor provided, you understand what a team effort it was. You understood your actions dictated others.
It was a full circle effort and when the driver didn’t hold up his end of the deal, that wasn’t good.
The sooner Rager realized that, the better. I knew enough about being an owner to this team that no two drivers were the same nor were your kids the same. There were lines that needed to be followed though when you’re dealing with multi-million dollar contracts.
When pinched against the wall, everyone reacted differently and responded as such. There were times when you sped up and took the position, stood up when people tried to convince you to douse yourself in baby oil, or you could slow down, and let them take the position when your drivers needed a reality check. Put the move in their pit and see how well they could race.
Once the racing season had ended, we made some time to get together as a family. We weren’t all together enough and my parents decided to host Thanksgiving dinner at their place. Big mistake that was. It was also the first time in ten years that I had seen my cousin, Rex, my Uncle Randy’s son. Randy Riley, my dad’s brother, was the vice president of Riley-Simplex Racing so I got to deal with him more than I cared. Though he was never approachable, I could tolerate him. Rex I could not.
“Don’t be surprised if I get arrested tonight,” I advised Sway as we got ready to go over to my parent’s house next door.
“Hmmm...” reaching for the door, helmet in hand, she smiled looking contemplatively back at me. “It wouldn’t be the first time I bailed you out of jail.”
“True.”
Stumbling down the driveway, she headed over to my Triumph Speed Triple I had purchased a few weeks back. “Throw me on the back of your bike and ride away in the sunset,” Sway said to me flipping her hair.
“Are you drunk already?” I asked with a laugh and set her on the back of the bike.
“I may have had a drink, or two, but don’t judge me,” she giggled. “It’s a holiday and we drink on the holidays, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” I put the helmet on her and kissed the visor. “I’m just jealous you didn’t share.”
Sway reached inside her bra and pulled out a flask. “Have at it.”
“I just fell so much more in love with you that you brought a flask, and that you carry it in your fucking bra.”
She winked.
When we got to my parent’s house, all hell was breaking loose. Casten and Arie were already over there. Lily and Axel were making out in the corner.
“Geez, they act like newlyweds,” I groaned looking away from my son.
Sway pushed a drink at me. “We need this.”
“How did you get a drink that fast?” Looking around I understood. Lexi was practicing her bartending skills, no doubt a product of Spencer and his ability to have his children make him drinks, carrying a tray of what looked to be eggnog and whiskey. “I’ll take that,” I said, reaching for my own and peered back at my wife. “Remember those photos?”
She nodded, her lips wrapped around her straw. I glared.
“Well, what’d you say you show me how much you enjoyed them tonight and give me some love?”
“Pft,” she flipped her hand at me as she reached into her shirt, pulled out her flask and added more alcohol to her eggnog. “Like I’ve said, I’m a sure thing. Think of me as a guaranteed sponsor.”
I gave her a nod and a wink of my own. “We could skip practice and get straight to the race.”
“You’re here!” my mom squealed and I knew my attempts of getting away were over. Although she did shove food my way and it was all I needed to get distracted. Spencer was there too, eating, of course, so I rolled my sleeves up and sat next to him for a little while. We talked about the last race in Homestead and parts breaking.
That was about the time I ran into Rex, my cousin whom I didn’t care for. “Hey, Jay,” he said.
I didn’t like being called Jay. My name was Jameson and I didn’t appreciate people shortening it just because it was easier for them. Jay wasn’t my name. My wife didn’t even call me that. The only person who ever got away with it was my grandpa Casten and Lane when he was little because he couldn’t say Jameson. Everyone else I was quick to correct.
“It’s Jameson,” I replied. My eyes met his. “I’m sure you remember.”
“I do. I just don’t care,” was his reply.
Without another word, I looked at my feet and walked away. If he wasn’t going to treat me with respect, I wasn’t going to talk to him. Simple as that.
Arie found me next and for once she was smiling. “Why are you smiling?”
“Well,” Arie sat down next to me at the table beside my dad who was drinking right along with Sway and my uncle Randy. “I was wondering if I could go to Chili Bowl Nationals with Axel and the boys this year.”
“Why would you want to go with them? You hate that race.”
“I never said I hated it.” Aries’ eyes darted around the room as if she was avoiding what she wanted to tell me. “I just think he needs my help. The whole team needs my help.”
“Fine, okay.”
Arie followed Lexi who walked past and I caught the last portion of their conversation and knew I had been worked over, “... so he agreed to it?”
Arie’s eyes widened when she saw me watching them.
I didn’t feel like knowing what they didn’t want me to. Arie was seventeen and was doing good these days. She wasn’t getting into trouble anymore and for the most part she was making smart decisions.
“Hey, Uncle Jameson?” Cole called out from the family room holding a DVD in his hand with excited blue eyes. “I finished the video.”
Sway and I moved to the family room to watch the newest video he had created. Cole was into photography and making movies. Throughout the season Cole had been capturing video and photographs in an attempt to create a video for JAR Racing. When he told me he what he was doing I figured it would be something like a slide show. I had no idea Cole had the talent that he did.
The screen was black first with just our JAR Racing logo splashed across the screen before you heard thunder cracking and the sounds of a rain storm. After a few seconds, cheering moved the video along followed by the beat of a heavy metal song. The screen flashed between black images and action shots of in-car footage of me, Axel, Justin and all the other boys manhandling sprint cars at Knoxville, Eldora, Williams Grove, and Lernerville. There were clips of the boys working on the cars, shots of us at the shop, video of wins for Justin, Rager and Tyler. Images of Axel’s win at Knoxville Nationals. Cody sweeping Four Crown Nationals and numerous other shots all detailing the season. It ended with a video of Axel and my dad walking back to the hauler after the World Finals.
“Wow!” was what most of us said to him. I knew Cole had talent of some sort, but most of the time I often wondered if his talent was causing trouble. Now at least he had a future in making videos.
“At least he made a decent video this time,” Lane said sitting next to my dad. “The one from the party was—”
Casten pummeled Lane.
“Jameson,” Sway captured my attention before I could question my youngest and the video. “I don’t like the fact my son is getting married. Go pull them apart.”
Glancing over my shoulder, Axel was still glued to his bride to be. “No. I’m not going over there.”
“You’re a horr—” she began but stopped.
Shit move or not, I kicked my wife.
“Asshole,” she mouthed.
I winked.
Soon dinner was served, more alcohol was consumed, my dad was shit faced, and my mom couldn’t be happier that we were all together.
“Jay,” Rex began again clasping my shoulders as he walked past us raising his eyebrows suggestively as if he knew what to expect from his comment.
I saw my dad laughing out of the corner of my eye, actually he giggled, and Sway shook her head knowing the emotion warring in me and that I wouldn’t take well to him calling me that again.
Swinging my legs around, I stood before him, my eyes level with his, knocking my drink over with the motion. “What was that... Rex?”
“You’ve done it now, Rex,” Randy said provoking the matter. Every time Rex and I were together, we’ve gotten in a fight.
He shoved me, or maybe I shoved him. Either way, shoving took place. I took a swing first, or maybe he took the swing first. Either way, a swing took place, too.
Shoving, swinging, and then that turned into some words and before I knew it, I was nursing a fat bloody lip and Rex had a broken jaw. Not many got away clean with my left-handed pop. Unfortunately Rex had a left-handed pop that was similar.
My dad laughed at me sitting there glaring at Rex, breathing heavy, glaring and spitting blood as he left with my uncle. “So you don’t like being called Jay, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, Dad,” Axel came into the room; finally without his hands or lips attached to Lily though they were holding hands. Lily sat on his lap, his hands draped over her legs as they sat next to me. “Have you heard about the winter race in Knoxville this year?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything.” Then it dawned on me. That must have been the race Tommy was talking about the other day. “Oh, wait, Tommy may have said something about it.”
“It sounds pretty cool. I think it’s the first winter race they’ve ever had.”
“It is. Usually the weather is too wet this time of year,” I looked over at Axel. “You wanna race it?”
“You mean with you?” he stumbled through his words appearing nervous. Lily sighed knowing he was.
“Yeah, with me... and the boys,” the three of us started talking about the race and the format that we heard they would be doing and agreed to look into it.
Dad sighed wistfully. “That actually sounds pretty cool.”
All of us knew my dad would never race again. I guess I couldn’t say that he would never race again, just that he probably shouldn’t. His head had endured a lot over the years and eventually that led to him deciding to retire.
“What do you say we call it a night, champ?” Sway offered looking to me and I agreed.
Sway and I left after that. Arie and Casten left with Spencer and Alley. Apparently they were all going shopping tomorrow, something Sway and I had no plans of doing.
“We haven’t done it on a bike … yet,” Sway said to me when we pulled in our driveway. Her hands circled around and grabbed me. Of course I instantly started to get hard. This was something I had imagined many times.
“It’s nearly December. Won’t you get cold?”
Her soft hands gripped my shoulders as I lifted her up and onto my lap. Her legs were wrapped around me, pulling me into her warm center. “No, I won’t get cold. How could I with you here?”
“Fuck, Sway, this is so fucking hot,” I rasped tasting her cool skin. She shivered melting around me.
“All I can think about right now,” she let out a soft moan working her hips against mine, “is that picture with you leaned back in that chair and your head bent forward... so sexy!”
I had forgotten about that, one. Probably because once they had baby oil on me my mood turned to shit but, damn, that photo shoot has gotten me a lot of lovin’.
I chuckled against her lips, the sound vibrating and pushed her down on me harder this time, the sensation was just as gratifying.
“Sway ...” I breathed. I bent to kiss the swells of her breasts and she hitched her leg around me again gaining an angle we needed to make this work. I wasn’t going to be able to make this work. Grinding her hips against mine, she bent forward holding me against her chest.
“It’s fucking freezing out here. You better get to this bearing alignment soon. Enough with the assembly prep already.”
Soon my jeans were unzipped and Sway had gotten her dress up and panties pushed aside.
I paused for a brief second to take her in. With the light of our garage, her body seemed to glow under the moonlight.
After twenty years together she got more beautiful every day. Reaching out, I traced my hand over her cheek before lifting her onto my lap again. Sliding inside of her, she gasped and threw her head back. We became frantic with one another, hands and lips fighting for control on a bike. It wasn’t happening and I nearly knocked it over a few times.
I couldn’t put a name to the emotion that was coursing through my body, but something in her eyes met mine and I felt like I was at my favorite dirt track, as weird as that sounds.
She crashed her lips to mine, I winced from the cut but took what she gave anyway and I was shocked with the strength behind her kiss. Our lips locked and she clutched her hands to the back of my neck as she moved against me. A fire raged from our connected lips and warmed my chest, all the way down my body. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer so that she was flush against me and she moaned at the contact.
She was illuminated by the moonlight. Her porcelain skin was set against the midnight blue dress that was pushed up around her waist. She looked so fucking beautiful.
Gliding my hands down her curves, I felt her skin ripple from my touch. I reveled in every inch of her with my fingertips, back up her curves and over her breasts, caressing, touching and feeling her.
Reaching my hand up, I swept a lock of hair behind her ear and she closed her eyes.
And that was when we heard, “Really guys? You couldn’t wait to get into your house?” Alley said avoiding the sight by holding a plate against her face. Closing her eyes she reached out and blindly held the plate out. “I came to return the plate. Now I wished I hadn’t.”
Laughing, I took the plate and said, “Let’s face it Alley, you’ve caught us doing worse.”
Surprisingly she laughed, “You ain’t kidding.”
Alley quickly left as we weren’t exactly in the position to be talking. Sway slumped against me and then drew back to smile. “Why does that still happen to us?”
“Because we’re careless,” I whispered and then buried my head in her neck. “Now pay attention, we’re busy.”
Regardless of being caught, again, there was no slowing down. We continued until we were both moaning. That was until I lost my footing and the bike fell over. Thankfully, we were finished by that point.
Limping inside, my arm hung around over her shoulders, hers around my waist. “Do you think we’re too old to be still doing it in cars and on bikes?”
My lips found her forehead. “No. I think we’re normal and we’re making this what we want it to be.”
“You’re right. Now...” her smile was mischievous. “We haven’t done it in the shower since we moved in. Let’s get to that. The kids are gone.”
“You read my mind, honey.”
I never thought we were too old to be doing what we did. I never thought we were too old for a lot of things because we were in love. How many couples in their forties could honestly say that?
I knew a few who couldn’t.
It seemed that the older you got, the harder it was to keep that love alive. Sometimes you found yourself pinched and looking for an opening anywhere.
Our opening was this. We had a healthy relationship. We fought, oh man, did we fight.
She thought I followed too close to other cars when driving and that I never cleaned up after myself or that I lost my temper too quickly.
I hated that she yelled at me for following too close or that we paid a maid to clean and she never did or that she and our kids fueled my temper at times.
The thing was, at the end of the day when I was loose in the marbles searching for grip. She was exactly what I wanted.
The utter expanse of emotions and feelings that I could have with her amazed me every day. It was as if the two of us met in the middle of everything and that balanced us out. I could laugh with her, cry with her, though I never really had, be coy with her and then be completely overcome with want by her.
No one had ever affected me that way and I had a feeling they never would.