The Champion (Racing on the Edge) Page 2

  “Oh, we just moved in about a month ago.” Dana beamed. “We’re just renting for now but we’re hoping to buy it now.” You couldn’t miss the meaning behind that.

  “How long do you plan on living here?” Dana asked and then began talking about something else and then back to another subject. She was all over the place. You couldn’t keep up with the speed in which her mouth was moving. “You didn’t answer...how long do you plan to live here?”

  “We didn’t say.” Jameson replied. That was all he said.

  We stood there in awkward silence before I decided to fill it.

  “So we were just leaving.” I hinted reaching for my coat.

  Jameson had quickly disappeared but Lane was now counting his money on the kitchen stool.

  Goddamn him, he left me alone with these assholes.

  “Well, we were just about to head out so...” my voice faded again hoping they’d take the hint.

  We weren’t really going anywhere but I had to get them to leave somehow.

  “Okay...I made you some cookies.” Dana pushed a plate of chocolate chip cookies at me. “I know they’re Jameson’s favorite.”

  They weren’t. Everyone who knows Jameson knows that oatmeal raisin is his favorite cookie.

  “Mmm...yes...he can’t get enough of those chocolate chip cookies.” I emphasized the chocolate chip cookies part rather loudly for no particular reason at all.

  Cooper and Dana both looked at me as if I’ve completely lost it but at least they finally leave, after telling me a shit load of times that they loved our house and Merry Christmas. They all but skipped off the porch, hand in hand.

  “Weirdo,” I heard Lane say off in the distance.

  “Jameson?” I called climbing the stairs.

  “Yeah,” his voice sounded muffled and distant.

  “Where are you?”

  “Who’s with you?”

  “It’s just me asshole. Where are you?”

  “In the kitchen,”

  I waddled my ass back into the kitchen. It was the only way to walk these days. I won’t say how much weight I’ve gained because it was just downright embarrassing and I’m pretty sure even an elephant, who’s pregnant for two years, doesn’t gain this much weight.

  “Are they gone?” he asked but I still couldn’t see him.

  “Where are you?”

  The pantry door swung open and he and Lane barreled out with water guns and soaked the shit out of me.

  I was prepared though. I knew this was going to happen eventually when he bought those goddamn things the other day. I quickly maneuvered my sea lion ass to the sink and drenched them with the sprayer.

  The impromptu water fight ended on account of flooding in our brand new kitchen and left Jameson, Lane and I laughing and soaking wet in almost an inch of water.

  As we’re mopping up the floor, well Jameson was, I was looking out the back window at the lake where Cooper and Dana were waving to us from their paddle boat.

  “We have neighbors Sway.” He leaned against the cupboards. “Peppy-stalker neighbors,”

  “What they doing?” Lane asked looking out the French doors in the kitchen, his tiny arm stuck inside a bag of Cheetos.

  “It appears these assholes are stalking us,” Jameson told him stealing a couple Cheetos when Lane walked over to him as he sat on the kitchen floor. Lane held out his hand and plopped down on his lap. Jameson in turn handed over another dollar.

  “We should get a security system installed.”

  “We already have one but we’re for sure installing security cameras and a barbwire fence.” Jameson added.

  “Barbwire is tacky.”

  He looked up at me from the floor with a contemplative expression. “You’re right...make it an electric fence, more reliable anyway. It might keep Spencer out too.”

  Lane looked up from the cookies he stole off the counter. “I need milk.” A couple pieces of cookie flew out of his mouth onto Jameson’s arm.

  Jameson tried to keep his cool but if you knew him, you knew that nearly anything on his skin repulsed him and chewed up cookies crumbs were no different. He calmly set Lane on the ground next to the saturated pile of wet towels, stomped to the bathroom, and closed the door.

  “What’s wid him?” Lane asked, his bright blue eyes curiously looking in the direction Jameson had gone.

  “He has issues with stuff on his skin.” I explained wiping the chocolate from his face with one of the towels on the floor.

  Lane seemed to contemplate this for a moment before smiling. “Dat could come in handy.” I could almost hear the “moohahaha” chanting in his head as he walked into the living room, Cheetos and cookies in hand. It was at that moment that I became aware that Lane was exactly like Spencer.

  I spent the rest of that evening preparing everything for tomorrow with a giddy high. Since he was diagnosed with metastatic brain cancer, I knew Charlie, my dad, wasn’t going to be around much longer and I desperately wanted everyone together.

  I also knew it was a horrible idea...but what wasn’t a horrible idea for any family to all be in the same house at the same time? We may all be completely crazy but families are window nets, as Jameson calls them. They keep you from falling out of the car completely.

  On Christmas Eve, our entire family arrived around two and it took me a good hour to get Jameson to even come down stairs. Before he did, I found the need to warn the twins, also known as my twin half-brothers from hell. There were pretty much the worst children ever and I frequently referred to them as the Lucifer Twins.

  “Listen you two,” I grabbed their little cheeks in my hands, squeezing. Two sets of chocolate eyes watched me carefully. “Stay away from Jameson today.” I told them. “I’m only looking out for your safety. What the hell are you?” Lucas was bouncing up and down like he had to pee. “Stop moving.”

  “I need to pee.” He replied reaching between his legs.

  “Then pee,” I sighed. This parenting shit was exhausting. “In the bathroom,” I specified when he grinned.

  I spent most of the morning with the women of our families cooking for this meal. When everyone was finally eating, I was pleasantly relieved. I enjoyed cooking with the girls as it was a nice change.

  I don’t cook with Jameson any longer. Why?

  Because it was easier to do it myself. Just simple tasks like making a sandwich are so in depth. He will start out by saying. “Where’s the bread?” Then he moves on to, “Where’s the peanut butter?” “And the jelly?” “How much peanut butter do you use?” “How much jelly?” “Do you put peanut butter on both sides?” “Do you cut it in half?” “Wait, do you toast the bread first?”

  Do you see what I mean? It’s exhausting.

  Who knew making a peanut butter sandwich was a ten-step process.

  When everyone sat down to eat, I felt like a load had been lifted from my shoulders, or maybe it was that I wasn’t on my feet with my balloon belly sticking out.

  Kyle, Jameson’s crew chief, and his girlfriend Elle, who in not so many words called me fat earlier today, came over. Justin and Tyler showed up as well with their girlfriends, who seemed nice enough and did not call me fat. They said I was glowing and beautiful and I wanted to kiss them but didn’t. I enjoyed Justin’s girlfriend, Ami, and enjoyed talking pregnancy with her for a while as she just found out she was expecting on Thanksgiving.

  Van, our body guard, came over, which made me happy. I felt like he was part of our family now and I wanted him to know he was. Since the incident with Darrin last fall, Van wasn’t more than a mile away from us at all times—it was reassuring.

  Even though I was a little nervous about tonight, I loved having everyone together. I couldn’t remember the last time our entire family and friends were together, under the same roof—aside from the wedding. Any time you had family together it could be a good evening or a very bad evening where someone either got hurt, or the cops are called. I wouldn’t rule either one out just yet—it was sti
ll early.

  After collecting more food, I sat back down beside Spencer. On the other side was Jameson with Logan across from me.

  “What did you say, Spencer?” Nancy asked, her eyes glancing around the table apprehensively.

  I had no idea what they were talking about.

  “I told him to suck my dick. I wasn’t helping him.” Spencer replied. “It was a dumb idea from the start—he had no idea what he was talking about.”

  Nancy gasped in horror and covered Lane’s ears as he was silently building his mashed potato volcano, his brow creased with determination.

  “I didn’t mom. I didn’t do it.” Jameson told her in defense holding his arms in the air as if in capitulation. She looked somewhat relieved. “I told him to fuck off.” he finished.

  There was another gasp from Nancy as she, once again, covered Lane’s ears. He must have heard though because his next move was holding out his hand to Jameson who handed over another dollar bill without thinking.

  Spencer replied with something else and nudged my shoulder. I couldn’t understand him. There was so much goddamn food in his mouth, so I just shrugged. He popped another deviled egg in his mouth laughing.

  “Well this is a lovely meal, Sway.” Jimi, Jameson’s dad, said with a smirk. “It’s a nice table too.”

  I knew instantly where he was going with that statement as did my over-reactive quick tempered husband.

  Jameson, who had been building his own mash potato volcano, looked at his dad next to him. “What the fu—” he stopped when he realized Lane was waiting for the slip. “...what did you say?”

  “Darn it.” Lane laughed.

  “I said this is a nice table you guys have.” Jimi’s voice laced with innuendo.

  Jameson glanced over at me with suspicious eyes. “You...were they...no...” his eyes flickered back to Jimi who was grinning widely. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” he threw his wallet at Lane and stalked away. “This is fucking bullshit!”

  “What’s he so mad about?” Emma finally realized we were all gaping at Jimi and Nancy, who had long since turned a bright shade of red.

  “Way to go, Jimi.” Charlie praised patting his back.

  “What are they talking about?” Lucas asked. He’d been just as clueless as Emma that we had just found out that Jimi and Nancy did the horizontal mambo on our dining room table since we humped on theirs once.

  “Jameson’s mad because they did—” Logan began.

  In a complete shit move, I kicked Logan under the table to get him to shut up. Yep, I resorted back to schoolyard survival with a six-year old. When he cried, I felt like a complete asshole...until he cackled and ran into the family room where Jameson had disappeared.

  I had my reasoning for kicking Logan, the last thing we needed was for Lane to start asking questions. Lane was still innocent. Give him a few years and Spencer would surely destroy that, but I refused to do it myself.

  Once dinner was done and we’d moved on from the conversations of Nancy and Jimi on our table, Jameson returned to the kitchen. He’d been holed up in the family room playing video games with Lane and Justin and avoiding everyone else.

  “You have some serious making up to do.” He said to me lifting my chin so he could press a kiss on my lips.

  “Yes, yes, making up...” I placed the last plate in the dishwasher before closing the lid shut. “lots of making up.”

  “That’s right.” He nodded walking back into the family room where Van was wrestling with the twins.

  Van came in a few minutes later, breathless from the exertion. “Thanks so much for dinner Ms. Sway.” He threw an arm around my shoulder. “You sure can throw down a meal.” His other hand rubbed his belly leisurely. “I may need to move in now.”

  “Thanks Van, did you get enough to eat?” Alley and I put the final touches on the desert buffet we’d created on the center island.

  “Yes, definitely...” his gaze shifted as Alley carried the brownies over. “wow...look at that.” His eyes widened as he took in the sugar insanity.

  Van quickly gathered a few brownies and other treats before making his way into the movie room.

  Jameson snuck back into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulled me outside with him.

  “Now,” his lips captured mine. “for that making up you have to do...” The cool winter air mixed with his warmth breath causing me to shiver as I melted into him.

  Before Jameson could hold me to the making up, Charlie and Jimi stepped outside onto the patio with us, laughing like Cheech and Chong in the movie Up in Smoke. I was almost positive that was the movie playing in the movie room now as I thought about it.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Jameson asked in a very melodramatic way running his hands through his hair stepping away from me.

  I watched them for a moment and knew something was wrong.

  “I have no clue.” Something was bizarre about the way they were acting.

  Frustrated, Jameson threw his hands up in the air. “I’m not...there’s,” he seemed to search for his words for a moment. “Something wrong with them. They don’t usually act this way.”

  “They’re on something.” I deduced after Charlie chuckled once, his pupils dilated to the point you couldn’t see the chocolate of his irises.

  “Oh my god,” Jameson balked examining his dad’s behavior—who was currently peeing on the side of our house while Charlie laughed hysterically.

  “They’re definitely on something.” Was my final assessment too.

  “What though?”

  “Jimi, were you out here with Charlie earlier tonight?” I asked him after he put his junk away. I had no desire to see my father-in-law’s camshaft.

  “Yep!” Jimi replied with a grin slinging his arm around Charlie.

  At the same exact moment, they both turned to look at one of our palm trees as though it said their name.

  “Oh my—”

  Jameson groaned. “They’re fucking high, aren’t they?”

  “Appears that way,” I answered with a giggle of my own. This was funny to me.

  “Hey,” Charlie turned to Jimi. “Do you think there’s any of that dip left?” he asked as Jimi helped him up the steps leading into the kitchen.

  Jameson shook his head. “Could this night get any worse? I told you this was a bad idea, Sway.”

  “Jameson.”

  He turned sharply on his heel. “Don’t Jameson me and don’t give me that face.” He told me matter-of-factly. “Listen to me next time.”

  “Jameson, shut up.” I shook my head slowly walking over to the patio table to pick up the beer bottles scattered around.

  “Don’t tell me to shut up.”

  “I just did.”

  “Well...don’t”

  “Are we really going to argue about this?” I spun around on my own heel to face him.

  “Yes,” he began and then stopped when I looked up at him. “I’m going to get a beer.” He mumbled retreating.

  He was right—this was a bad idea, maybe even a horrible idea. So far this evening Logan spilled fruit punch on our living room floor. Aiden had knocked over an entire carton of milk in the kitchen. Jimi and Nancy had, at some point, had sex on our table. Spencer told Jameson to suck his dick, twice. Charlie and Jimi were high and laughing while currently enjoying the deserts and Lane was making money off everyone and their potty mouths.

  When I walked back into the kitchen where Alley, Spencer, and Jameson were standing, I was met with Jimi and Charlie laughing uncontrollably.

  “This is too funny,” Alley reached for her camera on the counter. “I have to get some pictures.”

  Jameson left the room while Alley took pictures. I had half a mind to lock myself in the bathroom for the rest of the night.

  Another hour later, Jameson finally returned with an armful of beer cans that I assumed he, Justin, and Tommy had drunk. He shuffled through the kitchen, placing the beer cans in the recycling can, his shoulders slu
mped forward and a set scowl on his face, grumbling something no one could understood. The French doors leading out to the patio slammed behind him.

  “What’s his problem?” Spencer asked walking in with Aiden.

  “He just doesn’t like you guys...” I shrugged. “that’s all.”

  “Did you know Dana is their neighbor?” Emma asked Alley, giggling. Just then, Jameson walked back inside, his cheeks flushed from the cool air or his annoyance.

  “No shit?” Spencer laughed. “That’s awesome.”

  “Fuck off.” Jameson told him and walked upstairs.

  “Geez, what the hell is his problem?” Emma balked.

  It was only Christmas Eve. Just imagine tomorrow with all of us and presents involved. It may have been too much but it’d been a while since I laughed this much.

  Laying there in bed, I realized that I might have over done the whole “up on my feet” thing these last few days because now, as I laid there, I was feeling it. My back was aching, I was cramping, my legs hurt and I had to pee, badly.

  From around twenty weeks pregnant, I’d been on restricted bed-rest due to pre-term labor. Being up on my feet wasn’t exactly what was allowed.

  “Jameson...” I gently tried to push him off so I could go to the bathroom.

  He wasn’t budging.

  “Jameson, if you don’t get the hell off me I will piss myself in this bed. And not only is that gross, but you will then be lying in piss, so GET OFF!” I yelled trying to push him off again.

  “Noooo...mom. It’s not my turn to wear the bunny suit...”

  What does he dream about?

  I pushed him again.

  “Grrr...”

  Did he just growl at me?

  Suddenly, kneeing him in his timing gears was looking tempting as the adorable flailing spaz started kicking me in my bladder. If you don’t know what timing gears are, they are gears bolted directly to the camshaft. And the camshaft, well, that was my word for a penis.

  “JAMESON!” I yelled feeling the vibrations of my voice. I should feel bad that I just yelled at him but seriously, he was lying practically on top of me. I was eight months pregnant and have a baby pushing on my bladder. I understood he was tired after the Christmas Eve we had and we had to be at his parent’s early in the morning, but damn it, I needed to pee!