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That shut her up immediately. She couldn’t stomach his driving, or Hayden. They certainly tolerated each other, but I couldn’t say they were good friends.
As we merged onto the highway that night, in between a million trips to check on the kids, I settled into my seat for the two-hour drive to Santa Cruz where we planned on staying for a few days before we needed to be in Watsonville. That was when Rager reached for my hand and held it. It was then I realized I lived for these moments in the dark, much like I had back when our love was forbidden. Because these were where we could really connect. On an open highway in the middle of the night.
Inductance – Measurement of a conductor’s ability to resist a change in current flow; analogous to an objects ability to resist a change in velocity.
DEVILS BOWL SPEEDWAY
MESQUITE, TEXAS
You’d think by now I’d be used to life on the road, but some mornings, it frustrated me that we lived in a forty-foot motor home most of the year and I still couldn’t find anything I was looking for. Every February I told myself I’d be prepared and organized and come May, all that shit went out the window.
Now it was nearly June and I was in “crazy mom” mode and pissed that cracker crumbs were everywhere and Rager wasn’t helping me. He stared at a hysterical Hudson.
“Why are you screaming, dude?”
Hudson didn’t answer him. Or maybe he didn’t hear him over his crying.
Running around the motor home, I looked for Hudson’s pacifier and couldn’t find it. What I did find was that package of apple sauce Knox had been carrying around earlier, half empty, and stepped on it. What was left shot out the side and onto Rager’s leg as he sat on the couch.
My eyes snapped to my foot, and then Rager’s leg. “Whoops.”
He glared, and then shook his head. “That’s sadly not the first thing that’s been squirted at me today.”
“I’m almost scared to ask.”
He stood. “I’d rather you not.” And then he left, apple sauce dripping from his leg.
I still didn’t find the pacifier but settled on a popsicle. I’d literally give him anything but my boob at this point. I stopped breastfeeding Hudson a couple of weeks back and now my right tit was red, angry, and letting me know something was wrong. Given the women in my family’s history with booby issues, immediately I was alarmed. What if I had breast cancer? What then?
I ended up taking Hudson for a walk to calm him down and met up with Hayden.
“How long has it been sore?”
I stared over at Hayden who sat next to me as we watched the kids playing inside the rear tires stacked against the hauler. Shifting in the chair, I rolled my shoulders back to sit up straighter. “I just noticed it this morning when I was putting on my bra
“Maybe you have an inflamed milk duct? I had that with Rowyn.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. It was super painful. Felt like my tit was going to burst.”
It definitely felt like that. I wanted to ask my mom, but then again, I didn’t want to worry her. She’d already been nagging me yearly to get an early mammogram even though I wasn’t even thirty yet. I couldn’t blame her. I’d be on Bristol too.
“She’s so stinking cute I want to eat her up!” Hayden said, peeking at the newborn in Kinsley’s hands as we sat outside the haulers.
They hadn’t started with the pre-race activities yet, so we felt safe having the kids in the pits.
“Don’t eat my baby.” Kinsley held Jameson Grace closer. We started referring to her as her full name because it got really confusing when someone would say oh, Jameson is so cute, and my dad would stare at them as if they’d lost their minds.
Texas was fucking hot. No matter what time of the year, in my opinion. Probably wasn’t the case, but whatever. Today was a scorcher. And really hot to have a newborn baby at the track, but that’s the life if you have kids and you’re racing. Kinsley never missed a beat after having Jameson. She went to the hospital that night, checked out the next morning and they were back on the road. Though she claimed she knew nothing about taking care of a baby, Hayden and I prided ourselves in contributing to her readiness for little Jameson by leaving our kids with her so much.
“I think she looks like me,” Rosa noted, a White Claw in hand, and a hot dog in the other.
Smiling, I watched Rager trying to change the gears on his car with a set frown on his face.
I stared at my husband and though I was distracted by the sweat on his arms and the grease on his hands, I thought I’d offer some assistance. Maybe then his mood would improve. Doubtful, but I tried. “Do you need help?”
Rager snorted, his grip slipping for the fourth time. “Yeah, hold my dick.”