Ignite

Smirking, I climbed up onto the tower. As my father and I both got situated, I said, “You mean the head between his shoulders right?”

My father’s mouth dropped open as he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Jesus, he’s already rubbing off on you.”

I was on pins and needles the entire race. Emmit started off in third position then fell back to tenth, and now he was racing against Malcolm for first with only six laps to go.

“Number seven is right on your inside. Easy,” the spotter said as I kept my eyes on Emmit.

“Ten-four,” Emmit said. He had been quiet a good portion of the race. Once he asked Waldo to ask me what was for dinner.

“Keep off the apron,” my father said as he raised his eyebrows at me.

“This is fucking stupid. Why doesn’t he just get the hell out of my way?”

Emmit’s car was a few seconds faster than Malcolm’s, but Malcolm blocked Emmit every time he tried to pass.

“Two to go.”

I stood up and placed my hand over my stomach. Race day always made me queasy. Emmit running in second with just two laps to go during the Daytona 500 made me feel like I wanted to throw up and pass out.

“Emmit, you know what to do,” my father said as I looked over at him.

“Yep,” was all Emmit said as I chewed on my thumb nail and went back to watching my husband race around the track. Emmit made it look like he was going to go up and Malcolm drifted with him, but Emmit shot down and quickly passed Malcolm.

“Fender. Door. Door. Clear!” the spotter said as my father jumped up and fist pumped.

“White flag. One to go.”

“Emmit,” I whispered as I held my breath and watched him pull further away from Malcolm.

“You’re pulling away so don’t push it. You’ve got this. One more turn.”

My eyes were glued to Emmit’s number thirty-seven car as I grabbed onto my father’s arm. “Daddy!” I shouted as Emmit came around turn four and went straight for the checked flag.

“Oh my God!” I screamed as I watched my husband take the checkered flag at the Daytona 500. My father and I both turned to each other as Emmit cheered over the radio.

“Yeah! Yes! Woo hoo! We

did it, boys. We fucking did it!” Emmit said as my father kissed me on the cheek and Emmit’s entire pit crew went crazy as they cheered and shouted.

My father climbed down and began congratulating everyone on the win as Chris helped me down. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if I wanted to. Daddy walked up and guided me over to victory lane.

Emmit revved the engine as he pulled up and the crowd went wild. I was so proud of him as I watched him climb out of his car. Confetti was flying everywhere along with champagne and soda being sprayed everywhere.

Emmit flashed that amazing smile and dimple of his as he celebrated his win. The moment he jumped down, the sportscaster was right there to interview. Emmit scanned the area and smiled bigger when our eyes met. He answered all the questions as he took a sip and laughed when asked if this was the best moment of his life. “It’s certainly up there with some other pretty amazing moments.” Our eyes met again and I couldn’t help by cry.

If he only knew how much more amazing this moment was about to be as I made my way over to him. As soon as the interview was over, Emmit pulled me into his arms.

“I want my surprise,” he said into my ear.

Turning my mouth so that I was right against his ear, I said, “I’m pregnant.”

Emmit slowly pulled back as tears built in his eyes. I covered my mouth with my hand in an attempt to keep from going full-throttle tears. I’d been waiting for two weeks to tell Emmit I was pregnant. Something told me to hold off until the first race and I was so glad I did.

“W-what?” Emmit asked as he stared at me with an incredulous look on his face. Giggling, I dropped my hands and started crying harder. “Addie, oh my God.”

Emmit pulled me back into his arms as he buried his face into my neck and cried.

“Best moment of my life. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” Emmit cried as he held me tighter.