The Legend (64 page)

“Jameson,
why would you announce your retirement now?
Why not at the
end of the season?”

“Because
it was time and what I needed to do.” I told him.

He looked
at me with a perplexed expression. “So you’re done with racing all together?”

“Just
because I’m retiring at the end of the season doesn’t mean I still won’t be a
part of racing. Racing is all I’ve ever known.
Me
retiring doesn’t mean I’m not going to still be a part of it. I just won’t be
racing with the NASCAR Cup Series. I’m forty-two.”

“So you’ll
still race?”

I grinned.
“Guess you’ll have to see.”

The race
was uneventful. I had qualified sixth and ended up with another fourth place
finish. I’d be lying if I said I was satisfied because anytime I was out on a
track, I wanted to win.

My family
and I went home after that, I avoided all the media after the race and went
straight to my hauler. It may have been rude of me but I just needed some time
to myself that night.

When we
arrived home, I couldn’t sleep, wondering if I’d made the right decision for me
and my family. Wandering downstairs after Sway was asleep I found something I’d
never seen before laying in my office off the family room.

It was a book,
a scrapbook actually. It wasn’t finished but it had an article in the front
about the accident in Knoxville with a picture of the sprint cars on it. There
were a few pictures of me in the hospital; doing physical therapy and one of
Sway and me the day I was released. There were others of me and the boys eating
barbeque and more of Rosa sitting on the couch next to me asleep eating popcorn
from a bowl in my lap and drinking my beer.

It was
filled with various pictures documenting my recovery.

I’d never
seen them before and questioned where it came from. Sitting down in the chair
at my desk I read through the articles, got a little teary eyed and then closed
the book. That’s when my eyes caught the dates on the cover: Jameson Riley
2022.

Hmmm
.
Again, I wondered where they came from. I
never saw Sway working on them. She never had the patience for scrapbooks.

Turning
around in the chair to look at the shelves behind me, I saw them. Each year of
my racing life was documented in a scrapbook.

Reaching
for the first one dated 1984; I noticed the inside cover that said:

Made
with love by Emma Lynn

Emma, my
little weirdo sister who called me and asshole on a daily basis, had made
these.

When I
looked back through the pages of my racing life, the memories were vivid ones.
And after coming back from a brain injury, it was reassuring that I remember
what I did.

Emma had
made an album for every year and yet I’d never seen them until now; or maybe it
was I never paid attention to how much hard work she put into my fan club and
me as her brother.

The worst
part, I seldom thanked her for it.

I laughed
at some of the pictures. We were so young in most of them it was hard to
believe that was me. But back then, it wasn’t about the money, or the fame. It
was about racing because that was the only thing that made sense to you.

My career
stats were in there and not just my cup career. It dated back to the first year
I started racing in 1984. Everything was there. Photographs, news clippings,
trading cards, even the bands we used to wear around our wrists in the pits.

I scanned
over the stats she had listed for 1998, the year I set out for the Triple
Crown, knowing that was the year I had raced the most.

Jameson
Anthony Riley 1998 Season Stats

Northern
Sprint Tour

15 races
with 10 Feature wins & 2 track records for fast time

World of
Outlaws

17 races
with 9 Feature wins & 3 track records for fast time

Outlaw
Dirt Late Models

36 races
with 25 wins & 9 track records for fast time

Modifieds

19 races
with 12
wins

USAC Midgets

28 races
with 24 wins, 21 top five finishes

Won
Championship

USAC
Sprints

13 races
with 11 wins, 12 top five finishes

Won
Championship

USAC
Silver Crown

16 races
with 13 wins, 15 top five finishes

Won
Championship

Specialty
Events

Knoxville Nationals

Oil City
Cup

Silver Cup

USAC
Triple Crown Champion

Indiana
Speed Week Champion

Hut
Hundred

I knew I
raced a lot that summer but seeing it on paper was an eye opener for just how
much I raced. And not only that,
damn
, I was good!

There were
various shots from our summer at Lernerville, Eldora, Elma, Terra Haute
...
it was all there. There were even a few
pictures of all of us, including Ryder, eating at a Denny’s after we were
caught in a hurricane in Kansas one spring. Tommy was still holding that damn
cat.

There were
some from Republic also gave me a chuckle. I was amazed we made it out of that
place alive.

My entire
career was in books for me to remember.

Hell there
were even some dating back to that red go-kart that had started it all for me
and the gaping hole in the side of our house from when I adjusted the throttle
too much.

My first
cup win was there and shots of me and dad celebrating together in victory lane.
My first Chili Bowl win, Turkey night, Cooper Classic, Knoxville Nationals
...
news clippings
...
magazine
articles with me mentioned.

Then there
were the ones with Sway and me. Close up photographs from that night at the
Howl at the Moon bar that had changed everything between us. We were dancing in
the one she inserted, I was staring down at Sway and I looked as happy as did
she.

There was
a picture that stood out to me of me and Jimi. It was taken when I won my first
championship and the way he looked down at me put his death into perspective
for me. He loved me not only because I followed my dreams and became so
determined to make my dreams come true but because I was his son. It never
matter that I raced, that only sweetened the deal for him. It was always
because I was his son.

Emma took
the time to do this
...
for me. Everyone in my
family cared so much for this dream of mine that they did things like this. And
what did I do for them
...
nothing.

“You found
the books.” Sway whispered from behind me. I heard her pad toward me on the wood
floor. Her arms slipped over my shoulders and wrapped my neck.

I leaned
into her arm, my ear pressed to her forearm. “I never knew she did this.” I
choked out.

“She had
fun doing it.”

I sighed closing
my eyes and then turned the chair around to face her. Moving to sit on the desk
in front of me, her legs rested in my lap. Wrapping my arms around her legs I
pulled myself closer and leaned into her calf.

“I wish I
would have seen these sooner. I feel bad I’ve never thanked her for them.”

“She knows
you appreciate it.”

“All the
same, I should say thank you.”

“Yes you
should
...
” Sway slipped off the desk and into my lap
pressing her forehead to mine. “Those of us that really know you though, the
ones that keep you going, we don’t do these things because we’re looking for a
thank you.” She told me pressing her lips to mine.

“Huh?”

“Jameson
...
” she paused tipping her head to look down at
me. “You get me coffee nearly every morning aside from the time you were in the
hospital and when you couldn’t drive.”

“So?”

“I never
ask you to and do you honestly need me to thank you every morning?”

“No. I
know you appreciate it. It’s why I do it.”

“Exactly,”
she sighed. “Emma, Spencer, Alley, me…the kids…our entire family, we all do
this because we love you and we know you appreciate it. It’s never about
getting a thank you.”

I laughed
against her lips thinking of everything that was in those books. “Did you see
the picture in there of Tommy and that damn cat?”

“That one
always cracks me up.” Her eyes beamed as she reached for that particular book.
“And did you see the one of Emma staring at the Burger King sign with a pouting
look that the drive through wouldn’t be open?”

I nodded
flipping through the pages of our lives together. “The one of Spencer carrying
Alley was one of my favorites too.”

She
reached for another book behind her and flipped to a page. “Look at this one of
you and Casten at Bristol.”

I laughed
out loud at a photograph of me sitting next to my car on the pavement with
Casten at about two on my shoulders. He had this huge grin with a corn dog in
his hand and dipping it in the ketchup he’d poured in my hair. I looked less
than amused.

Sway and I
must have stayed up for hours going through those books, remembering,
the
uniformity each member of our family had brought to our
lives over the years.

We were
remembering all the moments that I promised her when I said forever. She didn’t
need me to retire to live the life she wanted, she had that already.

But for
me, I needed a break.

And I
intended to thank Emma for this.

28.
          
Four Wide Salute – Jameson

Four Wide
Salute – A four wide salute is where the field of cars line up four wide,
waving to the crowd, in attempt to show their appreciation for the fans attending
at the start of the nights main event.

“What is
that?” Emma asked curiously looking at the bag I sat in front of her. With a
smirk, I sat down on her couch watching.

“It’s a
present.” I told her with a smile, a rather proud one as I leaned back. Though
Sway told me it really wasn’t necessary for me to do so, I needed to show Emma
just how much I appreciated those scrapbooks.

Emma
crossed her arms over her tiny chest. “Now why would my brother, the one who
usually tells me to fuck off at least once a week, buy me something?”

“I saw the
scrapbooks.” I hinted with another smirk.

She looked
at me for a moment and then tilted her head.

“It’s just
a gift to say thank you Emma.” I said. “But
...
if
you don’t want it
...
” I reached for the bag
only to have her slap my hand away.

“I never
said that.” Emma reached for the bag herself and looked inside. “Oh my god
Jameson!” her face lit up. “Where did you find these?  I’ve looked
everywhere for them.”

Emma had
an obsession with these candles she found in Cape St. Claire Maryland a few
years ago but hadn’t found them since. With the help of Arie, we tracked down
the maker who apparently quit making them a few years back. I had a knack for
persuasion. I ended up giving her husband some free tickets to a NASCAR race,
had lunch with them, and she made the exact scent Emma loved.

“I pulled
a few strings.”

“Wow, I
can’t believe this. I
love
these things.” She gushed and arranged them
on her mantel above their fireplace next to their wedding photo.

It was
nice seeing her happy again. Emma hid it well but she was just as sad as all of
us that dad died. One would think her enthusiasm for everything would mean she
wasn’t bothered by it but she was. Emma just showed her mourning in different
ways. She planned events and made scrapbooks and redecorated our homes. She
dealt with the death the only way she knew how. That’s all any of us did.

Standing,
I walked over to her before she started to rearrange her family room just so
that candles looked perfect. Believe me, she’s done this before.

“Thanks
for everything you’ve done for me and Sway.” I said sincerely pulling her into
a hug.

Just like
my mother, she broke down and started crying against my chest.

“Oh jeez,
not this again,” I teased chuckling softly as I let her cry.

Emma
giggled despite her tears. “You’re such an asshole.”