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It seemed anticlimactic, but we rolled the racecar into the trailer and latched it down well before noon, having nothing more to accomplish for the day, other than get to the track.Grandpa and I chatted quietly until around 11:30. He called grandma to let her know we’d head to the cafe for lunch.We both hopped in his old Chevy, leaving the big F-350 from his company fleet attached to the race trailer.At the cafe, someone familiar to grandpa stopped by to chat, and actually asked when he was going to get back into racing.“Tonight,” grandpa casually replied.“No shit?” the older man asked incredulously. “Who’s drivin’ for you.”Grandpa nodded my way.“You shittin’ me?” the older man laughed. “He can’t be older than 17.”“I turned 15 this week,” I said matter-of-factly.“Well, I might just have to get to the races tonight. Been a while since a 15-year-old raced out there.”Our meals arrived, and grandpa and I shook hands with the older man.“Who was that?” I asked as the daily special was set. We spent time in the hot tub with wine coolers and a six pack of beer. Jenny's doctor had given the maximum temperature that the tub could be for her and we went a couple of degrees lower just to be safe.Crash walked out on the deck to get a beer from the refrigerator where we kept half a dozen brands in. I knew he could see plenty of floating boobies. He simply smiled, raised the beer in the air and said, "Evening Ladies," as he walked back inside.We slept in for a while Saturday morning, then I made breakfast for all of us. We split up with Marcy, Vicky and Jenny going to the Food King with a big list.Ching Lee, Lorrie and I moved everything out of the four car garage and gave it a good cleaning. The weather forecast was calling for rain on Monday. We then set up all the tables and chairs in the garage and gave them a complete disinfecting. The grills could be just outside the entrance, if the rain was light.We would put the paper tablecloths and disposable silverware and paper.
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