The last couple of weeks I’d been so caught up in not wanting to leave my kids or husband and fearing the worst that this was the last thing on my mind. And should have been in the forefront given on my husband’s career.
Alley drew in a calm breath. “You tell them that JAR Racings’ Rager Sweet, driver of the Solar Seals number ninety-nine, and Caden Carson, driver of the nineteen Carson Construction, are being treated at Miami Valley Hospital. They’re in stable but critical condition for their injuries sustained during a race at Eldora Speedway. We appreciate your thoughts and prayers and ask that you respect the privacy of their family during this time. We will update you when more information is available.”
I wrote down everything she said and typed up my press release.
“Stay calm, Arie,” Alley reminded me. “That’s all you can do in these situations. I’m on my way to Dayton.”
My voice shook. “Okay.”
For the next three hours, I talked to the press. I answered phone calls and relayed information to the track where everyone had been waiting on their conditions. It all happened in a blink of an eye and felt like it was moving quickly. In the private waiting room I was in, I glanced up when the door opened, my phone in one hand and tissues in the other.
Dad entered the room. He looked about the same—fear in his eyes and patience only he’d mastered over the years. “You should go talk to Kinsley.”
“Why?” My heart kicked hard in my chest. “What happened?”
“Caden’s out of surgery. Doesn’t look good. I’ll finish up with the press. Kinsley needs you.”
Kinsley needed me? My heart dropped to what felt like the floor. Immediately my mouth was dry, throat tight. No, please no. Don’t say he’s gone. Not Caden. God, please don’t take him from her. Not before their life even began. For seconds before the words came, I prayed.
I reached for his forearms. He held me steady as I stood and dropped my phone on the table. “What do you mean it doesn’t look good?”
Dad’s gaze shifted from the floor to mine. “He has a skull fracture,” he told me, drawing in a quick breath. “It’s relatively minor. They went in and got the bleed taken care of. His neck is fractured at C7, but he broke his back, completely shattered T5 and 6, ribs, collarbone….” His voice trailed off.
“Is he paralyzed?”
Dad nodded. “There’s damage to his spinal cord. He’s leaking spinal fluid at T5, but they won’t know the extent until the swelling goes down and he’s breathing on his own.”
There was some good news, but not what we’d hoped for. Of all the hundreds of scenarios we played out in our heads on the way here, at least this version he was alive and breathing.
Immediately my thoughts went to Rager, knowing my dad hadn’t said anything about him. There was a loud whooshing sound in my ears when I asked, “And Rager?”
Dad shrugged and ran his hand over his face. Stepping forward, he yanked me hard against his chest. I listened to his breathing and the sudden pounding of his heart when he whispered, “I haven’t heard anything yet, sweetheart.”
I didn’t realize until my dad wrapped his arms around me, how badly I needed that hug from him. We’d never been in this position together. When Grandpa died, Dad had been dying. When Jack died, I had kept my distance and dealt with the press. And now here we were, together, navigating the unknown.
I cried big fat ugly tears—tears that felt like they were never going to end when Dad held me closer. “I know this won’t mean much right now, but this is the race we’re in. It’s meant to be. You can’t change your finishing order. Every pit stop, every caution flag, every minute spent in the work area, and every lap led is for a reason.”
Holding on to him tighter than ever before, I sunk into my dad’s embrace, his shirt smelling of methanol. It took me a minute, probably with more effort than I needed to process those words. It hit me in the stomach. Like a punch. A blow I hadn’t prepared for. No matter what we did, it wouldn’t change what happened to Rager or Caden.
With my heart in my throat, I moved from the room to the third floor where Kinsley was with Caden. My eyes moved around the familiar dimly lit room. I’d seen my dad in a room like this, after a race, after tragedy and barely hanging on. I flashed back to him lying helplessly in the bed, hanging onto to what was left of his life while we worked through those caution laps.
I hated that Kinsley was experiencing all this for the first time, and alone. She didn’t say anything when I entered the room. Quietly, she stared at Caden—a tube down his throat and so completely different than when I saw him twelve hours ago eating a donut and laughing.
Some people might imagine you’d scream and cry after been given the news. But sometimes, the only peace you can find was within the quiet.
Kinsley drew in a ragged breath. “How am I ever going to explain this to him?” Her red eyes moved to mine. “I’m so thankful he’s alive, but is he? Can anyone be alive when the one thing they want in life is taken from them?”
I didn’t have an answer for her. At least not one I thought would provide her comfort. I reached for her hand and squeezed it.
Here, hours ago, I’d been so thankful for this lifestyle we had, and now it was slowly falling apart. As I sat there with Kinsley, a feeling of peace came over me as we stared at Caden, quiet and still, but in that moment, all I could do was pray, for him, for Rager, for us. Above all was an overwhelming peace inside me that everything would be okay. It
