Page 176 of Happy Hour

Lane’s response, “I can’t read signs. I’m three.” He shrugged. “How’d I suppose to know that the bathroom? I had to pee.”

Aiden nudged my arm watching Spencer try to explainwhyhis son was peeing in the corner of the restaurant. “Do you think that’s why Darrin hasn’t been penalized?”

“Hehasbeen penalized for his actions.” I clarified pouring myself another beer. “Just...not enough.” My eyes shot up when I heard my name announced in the distance. “He won’t stop until I’ve given up. But I’m not going to.”

Aiden stared at me warily. “Jameson, just be careful.”

My name was said again, this time by another group of people near the entrance of the small restaurant. I knew then my time here was up, or at least my quiet time here was at an end.

“I didn’t get where I’m at today by being vigilant, Aiden.”

I understoodwhyeveryone was warning me but I will be damned if I was going to let Darrin Torres push me around or end my career—a career that I worked so hard for and sacrificed so much for.

The night fell into a steady pace of signing autographs and posing for pictures. Somewhere in between all this, my attention shifted towards Spencer and Lane.

It made me think of Sway, wondering if she was in fact pregnant. I wanted to ask Spencer what Alley was like but I knew what that would turn into—I had no intentions for brotherly bonding right now. It’d probably be more embarrassing than informational, especially with the intuitive Aiden around.

Staying in a hotel room with two beds, three adults and a three year old was not exactly the best experience I’d ever had, including the night I was stalked by a deadly predator that had every intention of mating with me.

Never again would I do that again, both camping in the woods and sleeping in the same room with these crazies.

Between Spencer’s snoring, Aiden’s concern for Darrin and general quirkiness, and Lane saying he had to pee every five minutes...I wanted to rip my fucking hair out.

I finally had to say, “Listen, when you have to pee, just go.”

It was as though he had a bladder the size of a goddamn humming bird.

I wasn’t wild about his lack of bladder control and felt as though we’d made a connection about when to go and when not to around midnight.

All that went to shit when he took my advice of “Just go” literally and peed in the goddamn bed.

When Wednesday rolled around, I was once again back to racing and grateful not to have to be around them all day.

Instead, I was back in Sarver racing sprint cars with Justin West and Tyler Sprague.

Lernerville Speedway was a 4/10 mile dirt track located right outside of Pittsburg Pennsylvania. Being back on the dirt reminded me of the good ole days when Sway was with me every day.

When speaking with her throughout the week, she avoided my lingering questions all together. I threatened to fly home if she didn’t tell me what was bothering her but again she changed the subject to something inconsequential. I had a gut feeling she knew she was pregnant but was afraid to tell me.

So many times, I typed out the text message to her, asking if she was pregnant but erased it when I realized that was retarded.

You don’t ask something like that through text messages, even I knew that.

As soon as I landed in Pocono later that week, race day was there before I knew it. Media, sponsor obligations and team meetings filled my days.

I qualified second, behind Darrin. This meant that we both visited the NASCAR hauler prior to the race where Gordon explained that they would not tolerate any bullshit on the track today.

I just chuckled to myself that here Gordon was telling his nephew this. If only I’d known that months ago all this would have made much more sense.

Darrin was hardly agooddriver. Sure, he could drive, there was no way to make it to this level without the ability but he didn’t have it in him to be a champion in the series and he lacked a serious sense of sportsmanship.

I tried calling Sway before the race but it went straight to voicemail once again. The Modified Nationals were last night in Elma so I assumed she had a late night.

Making my way towards the grid for driver introductions, I saw Alley approaching me, in tears.

Alley never cried.

She slipped her Blackberry in her pocket before she approached me. Wrapping my arms around her, I attempted to comfort her. “What’s wrong?”

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