Page 89 of Trading Paint

He came toward me but instead of coming where we were all gathered dancing, he bypassed us all and headed for the bar. I tried to grab him but he shook me off and reached over the bar taking the bottle of Jack Daniels and left out the back entrance.

It didn’t take long to find him. He was leaning next to the wall, his jacket thrown over his shoulder and the white sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“I should have told you he’d be here.”

“Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” He sighed with closed eyes taking a drink straight from the bottle and then sliding down the wall to sit on the cold pavement.

I contemplated sitting next to him but decided against it in this dress and the cold ground.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he answered.

“Is this about what Charlie said?”

“No.”

“Cooper?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah well, I’m an asshole so I guess maybe I’m a liar too.”

“You don’t always have to be an asshole. And being a liar is up to you but that’s not us.”

He simply grunted in reply and kicked his legs out to lean further back against the wall.

This was my fault. I shouldn’t have agreed to dance with Cooper but then again I couldn’t figure outwhythat was even a big deal.

Was he jealous?Nah, that couldn’t be it. I thought Jameson wasn’t the jealous type.

“So it’s not Charlie, it’s not Cooper...is it me?”

He threw his arms up in the air in frustration.

“I’m just...I’m...It’s nothing!” he snapped causing me to jump. “Drop it.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes before he sighed with a growl and pulled his knees up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just frustrated with a lot of things right now. It’s not you though.”

I shrugged. I’d been on the receiving end of his temper tantrums long enough to know it wasn’t me. I should have been pissed but then again, I didn’t take it personally. He meant absolutely nothing by it.

I never did figure out where all the moodiness came from but within a few hours and half the bottle of Jack Daniels, we found ourselves back on the dance floor together this time. Jameson could barely stand let alone dance so he spent most of the time with me holding him up.

I don’t know why I let him take his frustrations out on me but if I had to guess these days, it was because to me that’s what friends were for. If he couldn’t show frustration to me, who could he show it to? To me, that’s the best friend I could ever ask for. He was one I could vent to and understood. He was one that never asked questions and was simply there because they wanted to be. That was us.

Redlining – Jameson

As winter passed, I found myself in Barberville Florida for the sprint car DIRTcar Nationals and then it was onto Ocala Florida for the USAC Sprint season opener in February with the rest of my team including Sway.

Judging by the conversation I’d heard from Charlie, Sway wouldn’t be traveling as much and by mid-summer, she’d missed an entire month of racing including the Knoxville Nationals and the Kings Royal which were two sprint car events she loved to attend.

It wasn’t the same without her. I found myself turning to other women in the hopes that they provided a blanket for the pain but it did nothing; it only made me feel worse and guilty but I still turned to them. And it was easy.

I didn’t even have to try. When the race was over, they were all over me. They knew what they wanted and I just wanted relief. They never asked questions and never expected anything from me. It was almost like a silent agreement and it worked well with my lifestyle.

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