Page 63
Story: Dirt Driven
Like it or not, Pace knew the dangers of the sport, even at four. He’d seen bad wrecks, and watched some drivers not walk away. Last year a late model driver died at the world finals in Charlotte. They knew and I hated that they did.
But I couldn’t lie to him. I didn’t want to because if something went wrong, how could I sit there and tell him I was wrong.
“I don’t know, buddy. I don’t think so, but until he’s better, I don’t know.”
Sucking in a breath, his eyes watered. “Don’t tell Bristol. She’s sad.”
“I know she is.” I hugged him to my chest, wishing this wasn’t his reality. I thought of Jonah and Jacen after they lost their brother, and their faces reminded me so much of Pace right then. One of confusion and fear, but also, trust in the ones around them. They were so little, so innocent, yet they knew. They prepared and understood life.
I felt Rager with me again, his presence, and saw him when I looked at Pace. Holding our son in my arms, I let myself believe, even though I couldn’t see or hear him, that Rager was with us, fighting.
Cupping Pace’s cheeks in my hands, I repeated what my dad had said to me earlier. “You know how Daddy runs a big loud engine in his car?”
Pace nodded, nearing tears.
“Well inside thatengine, there are moving pieces inside it. Things that keep it going. Like belts, oil, and spark. You can’t take any of those away because if you do, the engine doesn’t run. Do you know what that means?”
His dark brow furrowed like Rager’s did when he was thinking. “It doesn’t go?”
“Exactly. The car would stop. So if me and you, and your brothers and sister are those parts inside the engine and we give up, what does that mean?”
He drew in a quick breath, as if he was trying so hard not to cry. I kissed each one of his red cheeks as he whispered, “Our engine doesn’t work?” his attention on my necklace Rager gave me on our first wedding anniversary—a spring car wing with the number 99 in diamonds.
“Yep. We have to keep going and working through this so our engine doesn’t quit. Daddy needs us to keep this going for him so we’re gonna be super strong and do our jobs, aren’t we?”
He dropped the necklace charm from his fingertips. It hit my chest about as hard as his forced smile. “I won’t let Daddy down.”
“You never could, Pace. He loves you so much.”
With our little boy in my arms, I let myself weaken slightly, knowing the only way to win the race would be to fall back and wait for an opening.
TWO DAYS LATER, they were able to decrease Rager’s sedation and allow him to wake up on his own. His swelling had come down and the lung was almost healed. It’d still be another few days before the ventilator was removed, but having him look at me and squeeze my hand gave me hope.
“I love you,” I told him, over and over again.
He blinked slowly, watching me carefully, trying to breath over the ventilator.
I looked at the nurse. “Is he in pain?”
“He’s anxious,” the nurse told me. “They all act this way when they’re awake and still on the ventilator. It’s not comfortable.”
I squeezed his cold hand once more. “The kids can’t wait to come see you.”
That did nothing for his mood. He scowled, trying to shift in the bed but wasn’t able to since they had his hands constrained to the bed. His heart rate increased and the nurse noticed. “We should let him rest.”
I ended up leaving, fearing I was upsetting him. Rager didn’t even look at me. Outside the room, I immediately burst into tears in the hallway where my dad was waiting for me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I sobbed into his chest. “Everything I say is wrong.”
Dad chuckled and rubbed my back. “Try being a man. Ninety percent of what we say is wrong.”
I cried harder.
“It’s a lot to take in for him,” Dad said, his voice softer. “He’s confused and in pain. Give him some time.”
I knew it would, but it still wasn’t easy to see.
After leaving Rager’s room, I went down the hall to check on Kinsley, who’d been with Caden. She was seated in a chair next to his bed, her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. Her chin rested on her knee, her face, tired, consumed, worried.
But I couldn’t lie to him. I didn’t want to because if something went wrong, how could I sit there and tell him I was wrong.
“I don’t know, buddy. I don’t think so, but until he’s better, I don’t know.”
Sucking in a breath, his eyes watered. “Don’t tell Bristol. She’s sad.”
“I know she is.” I hugged him to my chest, wishing this wasn’t his reality. I thought of Jonah and Jacen after they lost their brother, and their faces reminded me so much of Pace right then. One of confusion and fear, but also, trust in the ones around them. They were so little, so innocent, yet they knew. They prepared and understood life.
I felt Rager with me again, his presence, and saw him when I looked at Pace. Holding our son in my arms, I let myself believe, even though I couldn’t see or hear him, that Rager was with us, fighting.
Cupping Pace’s cheeks in my hands, I repeated what my dad had said to me earlier. “You know how Daddy runs a big loud engine in his car?”
Pace nodded, nearing tears.
“Well inside thatengine, there are moving pieces inside it. Things that keep it going. Like belts, oil, and spark. You can’t take any of those away because if you do, the engine doesn’t run. Do you know what that means?”
His dark brow furrowed like Rager’s did when he was thinking. “It doesn’t go?”
“Exactly. The car would stop. So if me and you, and your brothers and sister are those parts inside the engine and we give up, what does that mean?”
He drew in a quick breath, as if he was trying so hard not to cry. I kissed each one of his red cheeks as he whispered, “Our engine doesn’t work?” his attention on my necklace Rager gave me on our first wedding anniversary—a spring car wing with the number 99 in diamonds.
“Yep. We have to keep going and working through this so our engine doesn’t quit. Daddy needs us to keep this going for him so we’re gonna be super strong and do our jobs, aren’t we?”
He dropped the necklace charm from his fingertips. It hit my chest about as hard as his forced smile. “I won’t let Daddy down.”
“You never could, Pace. He loves you so much.”
With our little boy in my arms, I let myself weaken slightly, knowing the only way to win the race would be to fall back and wait for an opening.
TWO DAYS LATER, they were able to decrease Rager’s sedation and allow him to wake up on his own. His swelling had come down and the lung was almost healed. It’d still be another few days before the ventilator was removed, but having him look at me and squeeze my hand gave me hope.
“I love you,” I told him, over and over again.
He blinked slowly, watching me carefully, trying to breath over the ventilator.
I looked at the nurse. “Is he in pain?”
“He’s anxious,” the nurse told me. “They all act this way when they’re awake and still on the ventilator. It’s not comfortable.”
I squeezed his cold hand once more. “The kids can’t wait to come see you.”
That did nothing for his mood. He scowled, trying to shift in the bed but wasn’t able to since they had his hands constrained to the bed. His heart rate increased and the nurse noticed. “We should let him rest.”
I ended up leaving, fearing I was upsetting him. Rager didn’t even look at me. Outside the room, I immediately burst into tears in the hallway where my dad was waiting for me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I sobbed into his chest. “Everything I say is wrong.”
Dad chuckled and rubbed my back. “Try being a man. Ninety percent of what we say is wrong.”
I cried harder.
“It’s a lot to take in for him,” Dad said, his voice softer. “He’s confused and in pain. Give him some time.”
I knew it would, but it still wasn’t easy to see.
After leaving Rager’s room, I went down the hall to check on Kinsley, who’d been with Caden. She was seated in a chair next to his bed, her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. Her chin rested on her knee, her face, tired, consumed, worried.
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