“Tessa Thomas.”
Tommy shrugged, but you could tell he was starting to sweat it. “I don’t remember her.”
“It was fifteen years ago. She said you guys met at the Hulman Classic.” The kid pulled his cell phone out and flipped it around. “This is her.”
Tommy swallowed hard. “What’s your name?”
“Paxton. I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted to meet you and these cars look pretty cool. Think I could watch the race tonight?”
“We have an extra pit pass,” Jameson noted, seeming to want the kid to stay. I could understand why. Probably to make Tommy uncomfortable.
The kid started walking with Jameson toward the pit gate, but Tommy hung back with me and Axel.
“Congratulations?” I asked, unsure how he’d feel. He looked as though he was going to pass out.
“Dude, I know his mom. I fucking remember that night.” He slapped Axel’s chest. “That was the weekend you won the Hulman Classic, remember? Black hair, blue eyes, fucking legs….”
At first, Axel didn’t say anything, as though he too was trying to recall the night. “You mean the chick with the dragon tattoo on her leg?”
“Yes, her!” Tommy’s face was red with what I could only assume was stress. Stress I had no time for today with my own shit.
I patted his back. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
On my way back to the motor home, I caught up with Sway, and she had all three boys down for a much-needed nap, so I went over emails and sponsorship proposals… and obsessed over last week’s race at Devil’s Bowl by watching the main event on DIRTVision over and over again.
The race tonight was uneventful. The track was glazed over and had one line on the bottom. I ended up finishing third, which was okay, but kept me fourth in the points. What irritated me the most was Arie still not calling me back. She said she’d call before the race, but hadn’t. I texted, and still nothing.
We loaded up the cars pretty quick after the race and the guys got on the road to Pevely for tomorrow night’s Spring Classic. Me, Axel, Jameson, and Caden, who’d won tonight, stayed back in the parking lot getting to know Paxton. Tommy had finally loosened up and came around to the idea of being a dad. As did Rosa who was walking around calling him son every chance she got. Honestly, after he was offered whiskey, I think he either wanted to be adopted by JAR Racing, or he wished he’d never come.
Willie slapped his hand to Tommy’s chest. “That was the time you got a DUI.”
I had no idea what they were referring to. I’d been trying to get Knox to eat a piece of pizza. The kid hated nearly everything unless it was cookies.
“No, no. That was the reckless driving ticket. The DUI was when the cop printed my driving record and told me to take a serious look at it when I asked him if my Breathalyzer number meant high score.”
“You shouldn’t be proud of that,” Jameson told him, tipping back his beer and reaching for another slice of pizza.
I tried to get Knox to eat but he wasn’t having it. “Daddy, no. It’s gross.” Knox pushed the pizza away again and slid off my lap and into Jameson’s. That allowed Pace to sit with me and he did, surprisingly.
I looked down at his feet and naturally, he was barefoot again. “Where are your shoes now?”
He tried to stuff an entire piece of pizza in his mouth at once. “I don’t know.”
Of course he didn’t. Sway came up to me and handed Pace his shoes and a hoodie to keep him warm. “Have you heard from Arie?”
I frowned. “No. I tried calling but she didn’t answer.”
She sighed. “Me too.”
“I’m a doctor,” Willie said to the kid, sitting next to him.
“No, you’re not,” Tommy reminded him. “You took a CPR class.”
“Still—” He paused and took a drink of his beer. “I could save someone if they were dying.”
“No, you could help them if they were not breathing, but it doesn’t mean you could save their life. There’s a lot of factors at play there. Why are they not breathing? Are they bleeding? Do they have a head injury?”
Willie’s brow pulled together in deep concentration as his shoulders hunched forward, defeated. “Okay, you’re just complicating it.”
Paxton burst out laughing and right then I knew he really was Tommy’s kid.
Sway grinned. “Fire crotch reproduced.”
Paxton leveled Tommy a serious look. “Why do they call you fire crotch?”
Tommy finished his beer. “You’re not old enough for that conversation.”
Pace laid his head back against my chest and I realized he was probably tired. Most kids his age would have been in bed four hours ago. “You tired?” I asked, kissing the side of his head. When I breathed in, he reminded me of when he was a baby and I’d hold him like this after a race to get him to go to sleep. He couldn’t sleep unless there was noise all around him.
He nodded. “Can we go sleep?”
“Yeah.” I patted his leg. “Why don’t you go say goodnight to Grandma and Papa.”
It was only a three-hour drive to Pevely, so we decided to make the drive in the morning instead of tonight. I got all three boys bathed and ready for bed, where they insisted on sleeping with me.
“I miss Mommy,” Pace told me, curling into my side as Knox and Hudson refused to sit still.
I grabbed Hudson by the back of his pajamas before he slid off the bed. “Me too.”
Pace sighed, as if he was totally stressed out about her not being with us. You and me both, buddy. “When is she coming home?”
It wasn’t lost on me that he called this home. A dirt parking lot inside a forty-foot motor home. But in fact, he’d spent most of his life inside a motor home traveling around the country with us. This was home for him.
“In a couple days.”
“Do you miss her?” he asked, looking
