Page 73 of Dirt Driven

“You ready for nationals?” he asked, shaking the water from his orange hair.

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure of the answer. I knew I wanted to be sure, but there was still that fear imbedded deep inside me I couldn’t pinpoint. In a lot of ways I’d convinced myself that once I was back in the car everything else would fall into place.

Tommy nudged my knee with his hand. “Are you supposed to be cooking those burgers, or setting them on fire?”

“Shit.”

Turns out, I couldn’t even cook dinner. See? I needed to get back to racing.

Tuning – Adjusting the parameters of a system in an effort to optimize performance.

Monday morning, Rager was cleared for racing three days before Knoxville Nationals. Eighty-six days after the accident at Eldora. And I was pretty sure the only reason he was cleared was because he went to a doctor he knew would give him clearance. He’d been in the car twice, both times, it was as if he hadn’t missed a beat. Physically. Emotionally, I wasn’t sure that was the case.

Emotionally, I was a wreck too. The same week he was cleared to race, Caden and Kinsley moved to Atlanta where Caden would be doing an inpatient rehabilitation at Shepard Center. While they were waiting for the swelling from his injury to go down, they were hopeful he would regain function in his legs. Maybe not be able to walk much, but you never knew. He’d already regained some feeling in the tops of his thighs, so it was great to hear he’d be going to a specialist.

He talked to Rager a lot. Nearly every day. Along with my dad who paid for them to move to Atlanta and footed the bill for his therapy there. And I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t have medical insurance? Believe it or not, the majority of race car drivers don’t have medical insurance, or enough coverage to get them through these kind of events, and even life insurance was tricky to get and not cheap. Caden and Rager both had received close to a hundred thousand dollars from the World of Outlaws Benevolent Fund, but still, it didn’t come close to covering Caden’s medical bills.

Rager and I had purchased extensive medical plans for him, including disability, and they covered most of it. But not all of it. If we hadn’t been in such a good position financially since my divorce from Easton, we would have been struggling. Caden and Kinsley, they were kids just starting out. Sure, Caden made good money racing for JAR Racing, but he wasn’t making NASCAR money, and not nearly enough to cover a month in the ICU.

Without question, anything Caden needed, Dad was right there for him. They’d even been talking about putting hand controls in a sprint car for him. The idea that he might return made me hopeful, but I couldn’t say Rager felt the same way. He knew the reality and the rules surrounding Caden being able to race again. The rules specifically stated a driver had to be able to pull themselves from the car on their own will. Caden might not be able to do that.

With everything happening, I’d forgotten about my surgery. It was set for the day after Knoxville Nationals. I wasn’t nervous about it at all. The surgery that was. I kept reassuring myself it was nothing compared to what we’d been through recently.

With Rager in the car again, I was a basket case of worry and anxiety. I’d never been scared of Rager racing. Sure, I understood what he did for a living was inherently dangerous, but I’d never had that gut fear like I did now.

And maybe it had nothing to do with him racing, but the fact he’d been so distant this last month and we weren’t connecting.

Outside the shop, there was a bustle of activity from cars being loaded to crew guys washing haulers. I stared at Rager’s car and hated that Caden wasn’t here. “It’s August.” Curling into myself, I shivered. Whole body shivers like the one you got when you stepped outside in the winter. “Why is it so cold?”

Willie looked over at me and I knew immediately I shouldn’t have said that with him beside me. “You know, Arie, if we rub our bodies together, it’ll create friction.” And then he proceeded to demonstrate by rubbing his hands together. But I couldn’t imagine it, let alone watch his puppet show.

Rager rolled his head to the side and stared at Willie, but surprisingly, said nothing. Maybe he was too cold to respond himself.

I waited until we were alone, the kids running in and out of the shop bays before I moved closer to Rager. “Are you nervous?”

He shook his head. “No,” he clipped, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt, his eyes on Pace and Knox fighting over who got to ride on the electric dirt bike next.

Knox tried to push him off but then looked back over his shoulder at Rager who gave him the look. The one that said “you push your brother and you’re done.” Knox backed up immediately. He hated to be in trouble with Rager.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I debated whether I wanted to bring this up today while his mind was clearly on Nationals. But then I blurted, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about after the surgery.”

His eyes landed on mine. “What about it?”

“I think after the surgery I’m going to stay home for the final West Coast swing,” I told him. “They said the recovery time is usually a couple weeks, but I don’t think traveling all that way would be good.”

His brows knitted together, his eyes on the kids behind me. “That’s an entire month.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone for that long.”

I swallowed nervously. “I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have my mom with me. And Rosa.”

He snorted at the mention of Rosa, but I could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders he didn’t like the idea of me not being on the road with him. And he was restless at home, never sitting still and needing to be moving. Hell, last week he fertilized our lawn. He’s never even mowed our lawn.

I glanced at our motor home in the distance, our T-shirt trailer all loaded up and ready. My eyes landed on Rager again as he stood there staring at me. “Are you ready?”

“For your surgery or racing?”

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