Page 191 of The Legend
Knowing mydaughter and her personality, I had a feeling that she didn’t care for thelifestyle but she did care for Easton and that’s all that mattered. Like me,she wasn’t a jealous person either, which was also important.
Eastonwasn’t sitting in front of us two minutes and he already had kids and womensurrounding him, all looking for the same thing they wanted from Jameson forall those years.A piece.
Ariewatched the crowd carefully but her eyes were on her dad’s sprint car as theylined up side-by-side. “I really miss this.” She said bumping my shoulder. “Imiss you guys.”
I wrappedmy arms around her kissing her hair. “We miss you too sweetie.”
My heartstill leaped anytime I saw that four wide salute. In honor of Jimi theymodified this to a three wide, and the butterflies still danced when I saw himdrift up the track and pass cars on the high side.
Just a fewlaps 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 aguessing game because the track is always changing. What may have worked thelast time you were here won’t tonight. What worked in the heat races suddenlydoesn’t in the main. You’re fighting wheel spinpushin’the wing back and battling for everythingyou’reworthjust to hang onto fifth.
Taking aplace near the fence, I could feel the dirt pelt my face every time he flew byme. I watched his hands in the car, smooth movements and the pop when he letoff the throttle halfway down the front stretched. Then he blipped the throttlejust once to drift into the corner and back on it until he reached three andfour. He had the lines figured out and was working on second place with threelaps to go when they called a caution.
I thoughtfor sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off since Tyler Sprague, one of hisdrivers with JAR Racing, was getting a good jump off the line every time.
When they threwthe green flag, Tyler got that same good jump on him but lagged on thebackstretch for some reason. Jameson caught him and threw the car hard into oneand two the following lap and then crossed over to take the lead from him.
Next flagwas the checkered and my voice was gone. I’d never screamed so loud for him towin in all my life.
Jamesonbrought 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 Groovethree years ago.
I livedfor those wing dances. The wing dance had always been my favorite. I have thisphotograph at our house that has Jameson standing on rear wheels of his sprintcar, beating his hands on the wing, at seventeen and Axel at that same age, sametrack, doing that very same thing.
After theygot my energetic husband down off the wing, I went down onto the track tocelebrate with him and Axel who had pulled his car alongside of him.
“I’ll behonest here,” Jameson laughed when the announcer pushed the microphone in hisface after asking how he felt winning again. Running his hand through his hairand then across the back of his sweaty neck, his smile was breathtaking. “Iwasn’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 thehappiest I had seen him after a race in long time.
Turning tome, he patted the back of the car on the roll cage. “Wanna ride?”
“You knowI do.” Climbing up there, I rode on the back of his sprint car back to thepits.
Best winever.
When hebrought the car around to the pits, Jameson was all grins again when he heardthe song his dad played for him after his last Knoxville Nationals win,ChelseaDagger.
Axel andLane stood by the stereo and turned it up dancing around.
It wasjust like our summer only now we had a little bit bigger celebrations.
I knowwhat all of you want to know. When was the first pit fight with Rowdy Riley andwho got that left handed pop from the southpaw first?
The nighthe got his first win and it was from a driver he knew pretty well having racedagainst him when he was younger.Parker Dunn.Jameson’s feelings still hadn’t improved on Parker and Parker was the sametrash talker he was when he was eighteen. You’d think being damn near fifty hewould have mellowed out but no, he didn’t.
The fightdidn’t even start over racing. Naturally, the same as it was back when we werekids, was because of me.
Parkermade some smart ass comment about my ass when he walked by and Jameson wasn’tletting him get away with it. He shoved him, Parker shoved him back and thenbefore I knew it, swings were being thrown.
Parkerdidn’t talk much crap after that. Or maybe it was the broken jaw that seemed tomute his obnoxious ass? Either way, I was okay with that and celebrating myhusband’s win with him.
Driversand crews stood in a line all clapping as we coasted past to his pit near thegate. It felt good to see him being accepted by a crowd that thought he cameout here to show off. That wasn’t what it was about at all.
Somethought Jameson had lost his spark but looking at him now, face flushed fromthe heat of the night, sweat covering the majority of his body, his green eyesdark with anger, he hadn’t lost that spark. He hadn’t lost himself one but. Ifanything, he found himself here.
When hespotted that Arie and the rest of the Cup team had come out, he smiled grewwider. 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 littlepiece two when his racing suit was tied around his waist and the heat of thenight got to me. It wasn’t helping that his muscles were calling to me in waysonly he knew.
His armscircled around me as his warm laughter brought me back to the moment and Icouldn’t wait to resort back to my pit lizard days. Seeing him like this, inthe thrill of a victory was like watching his soul come alive.
