Life Under Caution

The crowd roared as I pulled thru the pits to park my car at the trailer. I rolled my eyes seeing my husband, Mark, standing in victory lane preparing to pose for pictures. He was wearing his brand new black and red race suit with Dunn racing stitched on the back and his name on the pocket in the front, he got specially made thru one of our sponsorships. I must say, it fit him well and he looked handsome in it. He stood about 5’11 with long wavey brown hair with amazing brown eyes. He looked like some kind of celebrity standing there, as fans fawned over him, congratulating him, and asking for autographs. You could definitely tell he had a big ego as he soaked up every minute of it. I threw my helmet across the car as I began to unstrap myself from the seat belts. I was so frustrated with my run tonight. As I climbed out of the window of the car, I seen a tall man walking toward me. It was Mike, our manager, I could tell by his expression he was not happy with me either. “Not my best run tonight.” I said jokingly. “Not your best, huh?” He scoffed, “Em, you’re going to have to start winning some races.” “I know.” I replied looking up at him. “You know?” He repeated as he ran his hand thru his black clean-cut hair. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “What?” I questioned. “Emma, if you don’t start winning some, you are going to lose your sponsorships. Trackwear is already considering it.” “What?! Why?! Tell them I can do better. They are my biggest sponsors.” “I know Em, but they do not want to fund a middle-class racer. They want the best.” I looked down at the ground trying to hold back tears and frustration. “Emma what is up with you anyways? It’s like you are letting him have it.” Mike added. “I am not! I promise!” I argued. “Well, it sure as hell looks like it! Sponsors want to see greatness. They want to see you win, so they know their money is going somewhere. Em, I cannot keep making excuses for you.” Mike’s voice raised a little, “You’re holding back I can tell. You cannot keep blocking for him, and if you want me to continue to be your manager you are going to have to step your game up and drive that car like I know you can.” I wiped a small tear from my eye. I just stood there and starred down at my black and purple race shoes. While Mike went on, although he was right if I wanted to keep it up, I was going to have to stop letting Mark have it. I couldn’t help but think how mad Mark would be if I started passing him, and not letting him have the glory and fame. Mark’s idea of a family racing team is he needs to be front, and center and I just needed to stand in the background and under his shadow. After all, Mark is the one who made my racing career possible. “Look Emma,” Mike’s voice softened, “All I am saying is you are better than this. You used to run circles around these guys. I do not get how such a great driver just goes out there every week and lets her husband have it every weekend.” “Look I’m sorry, next weekend is mine, I promise.” I smiled. “Make way for the winner!” Mark interrupted, as he ran up and set his trophy on the roof of my car. I rolled my eyes at him, gave Mark a small kiss on the cheek. “Congrats, babe.” I gave a small fake smile. “Congrats, man.” Mike also replied, as he gave Mark a handshake. A small awkward silence fell between us. “Was I interrupting something?” Mark questioned. “No,” Mike replied, “I was just telling Emma about a couple of events I would like you guys to attend. I will email y'all the dates Monday morning. I think it will be good press.” “Hell yea,” Mark agreed, “Sounds like a plan to me, man.” “Great, I will talk to you guys later, I am going to get going. Congrats man, keep up the excellent work.” Mike gave Mark another handshake and started toward the parking lot. “Hey babe, Rigs, and some of the other guys from the track, are going to have a drink. Wanna go?” Mark asked. “Nah,” I yawned,” I think I’m going to call it a night, and head back to the RV. I’m tired, but you can go.” “You sure?” He questioned. “Yea,” I nodded, “Go have fun.” He smiled, gave me a kiss on the forehead, and ran off towards Rigs’ RV. Rigs is Mark best friend and our mechanic. He was one of the best. I said my goodbyes to the rest of the pit crew and headed toward the RV parking lot. I was absolutely exhausted and stressed. When I entered the RV, I was greeted by both of our boys, Mason, and Karson. Mark and I have two children, they were both from prior relationships. We have only been married for 2 years, and more children were not part of the plan, but I was definitely content with our two, handsome boys. Mason is Mark’s son from his prior relationship with Layla. He is a 12-years-old, full of personality, and all boy. Mason stood around 5’4, he is tall and slender, he looked like a miniature version of Mark. Mason has curly brown hair and blue eyes. “Did dad win?” Mason questioned. “Yes,” I nodded, "He did amazing, I’m proud of him.” “Awesome!” Mason shouted, as he high fived Karson. Karson is my son from my prior relationship with Carl. He is 10 years old. Carl and I were only teenagers when we had him, so we really did not last long. Partying and being a teenager was Carl’s focus, and he has been in and out ever since. Karson is my pride and joy. Karson stands about 5’1, he is short for his age, but his dad and I are not very tall either. He has exceptionally light brown hair, that he always kept cut short, and hazel eyes. “What place did you get, mom?” Karson asked. “Fourth,” I replied. “Dude! Your mom sucks!” Mason shouted. “Bro, that’s not cool!” Karson argued. “Boys,” I interrupted, "let's not do this tonight, please. I am tired.” “Okay. Goodnight, we love you.” They both replied. I walked to the back of the RV and flopped down on the nice, soft, queen size bed. I started to doze off and then I heard the ding of my phone. I sighed and reached for my phone; it was a text from Mark. Knowing him, he is drunk, and it was more than likely a bunch of nonsense. Mark: I probably won’t make it home tonight. I will see you in the morning, love you. I rolled my eyes, figures, it was nothing out of the ordinary and I would not have expected anything less. I replied with k, you too. Knowing Mark, he was more than likely with some other women rather than hanging out with the guys. I’m sure once the paparazzi catches up with him, his wild night will be plastered all over the front page of every magazine you can think of, and let's not forget every social media platform you can think of. I shook the thought from my mind, crawled to the top of the bed, pulled the covers back, snuggled in them and slowly drifted to sleep.