Without question, anything Caden needed, Dad was right there for him. They’d even been talking about putting hand controls in a sprint car for him. The idea that he might return made me hopeful, but I couldn’t say Rager felt the same way. He knew the reality and the rules surrounding Caden being able to race again. The rules specifically stated a driver had to be able to pull themselves from the car on their own will. Caden might not be able to do that.
With everything happening, I’d forgotten about my surgery. It was set for the day after Knoxville Nationals. I wasn’t nervous about it at all. The surgery that was. I kept reassuring myself it was nothing compared to what we’d been through recently.
With Rager in the car again, I was a basket case of worry and anxiety. I’d never been scared of Rager racing. Sure, I understood what he did for a living was inherently dangerous, but I’d never had that gut fear like I did now.
And maybe it had nothing to do with him racing, but the fact he’d been so distant this last month and we weren’t connecting.
Outside the shop, there was a bustle of activity from cars being loaded to crew guys washing haulers. I stared at Rager’s car and hated that Caden wasn’t here. “It’s August.” Curling into myself, I shivered. Whole body shivers like the one you got when you stepped outside in the winter. “Why is it so cold?”
Willie looked over at me and I knew immediately I shouldn’t have said that with him beside me. “You know, Arie, if we rub our bodies together, it’ll create friction.” And then he proceeded to demonstrate by rubbing his hands together. But I couldn’t imagine it, let alone watch his puppet show.
Rager rolled his head to the side and stared at Willie, but surprisingly, said nothing. Maybe he was too cold to respond himself.
I waited until we were alone, the kids running in and out of the shop bays before I moved closer to Rager. “Are you nervous?”
He shook his head. “No,” he clipped, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt, his eyes on Pace and Knox fighting over who got to ride on the electric dirt bike next.
Knox tried to push him off but then looked back over his shoulder at Rager who gave him the look. The one that said “you push your brother and you’re done.” Knox backed up immediately. He hated to be in trouble with Rager.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I debated whether I wanted to bring this up today while his mind was clearly on Nationals. But then I blurted, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about after the surgery.”
His eyes landed on mine. “What about it?”
“I think after the surgery I’m going to stay home for the final West Coast swing,” I told him. “They said the recovery time is usually a couple weeks, but I don’t think traveling all that way would be good.”
His brows knitted together, his eyes on the kids behind me. “That’s an entire month.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone for that long.”
I swallowed nervously. “I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have my mom with me. And Rosa.”
He snorted at the mention of Rosa, but I could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders he didn’t like the idea of me not being on the road with him. And he was restless at home, never sitting still and needing to be moving. Hell, last week he fertilized our lawn. He’s never even mowed our lawn.
I glanced at our motor home in the distance, our T-shirt trailer all loaded up and ready. My eyes landed on Rager again as he stood there staring at me. “Are you ready?”
“For your surgery or racing?”
I shifted my stance. “Both, I guess.”
“One more than the other.” And then he walked away without giving me a true answer.
Annoyed, I made my way into the office where Lily, Mom, Bailey, and Hayden were going through merchandise. We’d taken all of Caden’s shirts and added them to Dad’s trailer, and Casten, Axel, and Rager were sharing one for the final West Coast swing since both Mom and I wouldn’t be around.
Caden’s merchandise sales were unreal. He was making more off selling T-shirts and hats than he was racing, as crazy as that sounded. Everyone in the racing community wanted to support him, and did. Tracks all around the world were raising money for him and their family. It brought tears to my eyes just thinking about the closeness of the family we’d created.
And the man next to me, staring at the display cabinet of helmets lining the showroom, it started with him and that first helmet on the wall. Cherry red with black-and-white checkers on it. The smallest of the helmets next to the one Jack wore.
That helmet, that first cherry-red one was the one Dad wore racing quarter midgets at Elma. He was four years old at the time. Dad sighed and locked the cabinet after placing Caden’s helmet in there. I had no idea he had it.
“I sure do miss that kid.”
He nodded. “You and me both.”
“How’s he doing?” I talked to Kinsley a lot, shared pictures of the kids, but I hadn’t personally talked to Caden, and Rager didn’t exactly open up these days.
“He’s in good spirits. Frustrated, but that’s to be expected.” He sighed. “It’s hard to rid yourself of that hopeless feeling when your recovery isn’t going as fast as you want it to.”
“Do you think he’s
