A Life’s Worth

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Summary: “I see them and something inside me I never knew existed, aches.”

AUTHOR: Liz
EMAIL: liz@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG
CHARACTER: Kevin Harvick, Kevin POV
COMPLETED: April 19, 2008
WORD COUNT: 1,833
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
BETA: Thanks to Catw00man & Zippit for the awesome beta!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Because the world would not be complete without a baby Harvick. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kevin Harvick Incorporated - Kernersville, NC

I’m usually never in here for more than a few minutes at a time.  When I come to the shop, I’d much rather be down with the guys on the floor than holed up here in my office. 

My office.  My office in my company’s building, that has my name stenciled on the door.  I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.  Sometimes I can’t believe we’ve done all this.  When D and I broke ground on KHI, all we dared hope for was to be a competitive, respected team.  Now we have a truck team that’s earned us a championship – should have been two, dammit Newman – and a Nationwide team with three wins under its belt.

Then there are our fifty-plus employees and their families.  When guys get out in Victory Lane and tell the cameras this win is “for the boys back at the shop,” I don’t think they have any idea what those words really mean.  I know I didn’t, not before I became an owner.  That responsibility…I respect Richard more now than ever before.  He’s been able to somehow do it all.  He has successful, championship-contending raceteams, handles multi-million dollar business deals and manages to make time for his winery and hunting with friends…not to mention he has a family.

Sigh and lean forward, rolling my chair closer to the desk and absently grab for a ballpoint pen.  Twirl it in my fingers over and over as I try and accept what’s been keeping me preoccupied the past couple weeks.

Five years ago, if someone said I’d be thinking about having kids right now, I would’ve said they were crazy.  My life was consumed by point standings, go-karts and stupid pranks.  I had DeLana, my perfect match in every way possible, by my side.  We had everything we thought we needed.  I never would’ve dreamed I’d ever feel like something was missing.

D’s always telling people that KHI is our baby and that all the employees are like our kids and until recently I agreed whole-heartedly.  It’s not that D and I don’t like kids.  When her nieces and nephews come over to visit, we all have a great time.  It’s just nice to be able to hand them off when they start throwing a tantrum or crying.  We get to be the cool aunt and uncle and let someone else do the scolding and the grounding.  Perfect setup.  But lately….   

A couple races ago, I saw Jeff and Ingrid playing with Ella on the grid and passed by Casey carrying Samantha and this odd feeling came over me.  It was like a weird gnawing in the pit of my stomach.  I realized as I was climbing into my car it was…jealousy.  Not an “I want a new car, too” kind of jealousy.  It was a more basic, instinctual feeling of craving – no, needing – what they had.  And it scared the shit out of me.

Still does, actually.  Twist the cap on the pen and bend the clip back and forth as I finally allow myself to think thoughts I’ve been desperately trying to ignore. 

I want a little somebody to teach to walk.  I want someone to rock to sleep, someone to watch silly cartoons with.  I want to read those Dr. Seuss books aloud and kiss scraped elbows.  I want a normal reason for buying Pedialyte by the case. 

No doubt, I knew what I was signing up for when I said “I do” in Vegas.  And back then I was actually relieved to have found someone that didn’t require the whole kid deal.  But now, looking back, I wonder if I went along with it because I really didn’t want to ever have children or if I was just scared of being a father, scared I wouldn’t cut it.

I know all D’s reasons are logical: it’s not fair to raise a child on the road, all over the country, that she and I would never be the same, that we’d be spread too thin.  But then I see Jeff and Kim with Paige and Harrison and something inside me I never knew existed, aches.

I think this all really started a few years ago, when I realized you never know when you’re going to run out of time.  One of my first thoughts when John Paul passed was that he never had the chance to be a granddad.  He would’ve been a great one, I know it.  He never pushed us though.  He knew our goals and our dreams.  But I know he would’ve been thrilled to have a grandbaby around.  I mentioned something to D then, but she brushed me off, saying it would be insane to start a family, that KHI needed too much attention and that we seemed to be hitting our stride with the 29. 

So I let it go.  I honestly didn’t give it any thought again until recently.  I don’t know if it’s just me, but I swear the garage is in the middle of a Baby Boom.  Everywhere I look, babies and little kids are running around.  First it was Jeff, then Casey and Robby, and now I’ve even heard rumblings about Matt and Katie.  I saw Montoya’s rugrats in little matching firesuits the other day and I couldn’t help but smile, even knowing who gave them half their DNA.  I see them all and I can’t even imagine looking down into a pair of eyes, knowing that you created them, that they are literally a part of you…. 

Shake my head and throw the pen down, watching as it skitters toward the edge of the desk, saved from the floor by the bent clip.  Dammit, I thought only women had thoughts like these.  All I know is that I can’t seem to shake this persistent gnawing feeling that my life is incomplete.  And this kind of emptiness…I know no championship could fill this void. 

I reach for the memo on the corner of my desk and I know I’m supposed to okay it so it can go out but I can’t seem to focus on the words.  I can’t concentrate when all I can think of is I don’t want to get to the end of my life and have this regret hanging over me.  That’s what I’m afraid of, that I’ll look back and only see what I missed out on.  Well, that and maybe D’ll wake up one day and realize we forgot to procreate and blame me.

I know she’s scared of being a mother.  Scared she’ll have a daughter and end up pushing her away just like her Momma did.  But I know D and I think she would be a great mom.  She’d show a little girl how to be a strong, assertive woman and teach a little boy not to be intimidated by women like that.  And…I think I’d be a good dad.  True, my own dad and I aren’t close, but I got to see D with her father.  I’d do my damnedest to make John Paul proud.

I’m ready.  I know I’m ready. I’m not the same kid that walked across Biffle’s car, what was it, six or seven years ago?  As much as some people don’t want to believe it, I have grown up.  And racing karts and smashing cars with monster trucks is fun, but I want to have a reason for doing everything we do.  A purpose for all the appearances and the time away from home.  Because at the end of the day, there’s more to life than points, right?  It’s taken me thirty-three years, but I realize now that I want to do more than just be a racecar driver and win races.  I want a family, I want to be a father. 

And sure, it’s scary to think about being responsible for another human being’s very existence, but I have no doubt we can do this.  We’d raise a good kid.  They’d know about working hard for what you want.  We’d teach them to rise to expectations.  And they’d know to not give up, to never give up. 

We’d teach them right from wrong and then teach them all about the gray areas, the decisions they’ll have to make when nothing seems clear cut.  We’d make sure they wouldn’t end up spoiled brats and keep them in line.  Well, D would.  She’d have to be the disciplinarian.  I know right now I’d never be able to say no to a little boy or girl with big blue eyes like hers. 

That’s how I imagine our kid.  Her bright blue eyes and contagious laugh, maybe my smirk and swagger.  Throw in our focused determination and smartass sense of humor and you’ve got the perfect combination of angel and devil.

Yeah, we wouldn’t be the Cleavers, with the father going to work every morning in a suit and the mother cooking dinner every night.  I mean, let’s be honest, we’d be lucky to get an edible meal from D once a month.  But then again, that’s what frozen meals and take-out are for, right?  Our lacking culinary skills aside, we have so much to give, so much to share.  The more I think about it, the more I feel like we were meant to have a child.  No one would love a kid more than the two of us, of that I have no doubt. 

We’ve never been more ready than we are now.  We have this huge new house that we designed and built together.  We’ve got too many rooms than we know what to do with.  That spare room beside our bedroom?  It could be used for something besides just a dumping ground for stuff D and I have yet to find a place for.  We could move all that junk down to the basement.  And how cool would it be to hear baby babble mixed in with the dogs’ barking?  Maybe we could put in a swing set behind the house…hell, we could fit a whole playground back there.  

Lean back in my chair again and smile as I imagine asking Smoke to put some of those old Home Depot skills of his to use.  I’m sure he still has his hammer and some nails around.  Who knows, maybe he can throw his weight around as “owner” and get Newman to dust off that engineering degree and design something kickass.  Either way, my kid would end up with the playground to end all playgrounds.  I can see us now, going down the slide, me holding tight to our little somebody as we laugh, and D waiting for us at the bottom with open arms….    

Sit up suddenly when I hear a soft knock on the door.  Swallow hard and I know this is it.  The door opens slowly and I’m met with curious eyes.

“Kevin?”

“Yeah, come in.  D, I wanna talk to you about something….”

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Liz - liz@cryptoffic.com