A few minutes later, Mark lined up the new Late Model in its second starting place. This class of racers understood they were all driving high dollar machines and were all less likely to trade paint with each other if it could be avoided. For the heat race, they were only running ten cars at a time, but the feature would put all the survivors against each other. Mark noticed that he didn't know any of the drivers in the heat. The green flag dropped and they were off. The race was a clean race no one even traded paint, though there was a couple cautions from the new drivers in the back on the pack who had spun out on their own. McCormick watched the others, as he was still running in second place with two laps left. It wasn't that he couldn't pass the first place car; it was more he hadn't decided if he should pass it and take the win in the heat or save the win for the feature, though he wanted the win badly. McCormick smiled mischievously when he saw the white flag that signalled the last lap. The final factor in Mark's decision to pass the leader was that he knew how much Barbara Johnson needed to see this car win this race, because in racing, he knew how often you didn't get a second chance. Going into turn one Mark swung wide and gave it the gas. He was in the lead before he reached turn two.
In the stands, Barbara held her breath as Mark passed the leader.
By the time Mark came out of turn four and saw the checkered flag waiting for him, he knew that he had the race.
Hardcastle wasn't sure who was the most proud of McCormick as he crossed the finish line, Barbara, Kiki, the kids, or himself.
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By midnight on Saturday night, the entire atmosphere at the tracks had changed. Team members were at different trailers buying, selling, and swapping parts; more lights were strung up tonight; sounds of air compressors could still be heard along with various tools as the teams worked to make sure they'd be ready to race the following day.
At the FBM Johnson Racing trailers, most of the class was still very much wide awake and it looked to Mark that they'd be for hours yet. They had sent the truck drivers up with Mr. Jones to watch Kiki's car until the boys were sent up to go to bed.
Hardcastle knew McCormick better than anyone and was surprised at his mood. As edgy as the kid had been the night before, he expected him to be more so tonight, but it seemed that the opposite would have been a better description. McCormick actually seemed relaxed as he sat sprawled out in a lawn chair, though he was still facing Hamilton's trailer. Kiki was sitting on a blanket on the ground in front of him. Several drivers and team members had been by, talking with both of them throughout the evening. The kids had helped Mark clean up both the Coyote and the new car, and both were now locked in the trailers. Barbara even seemed more relaxed tonight. Hardcastle himself was far more tense, due to the others' relaxed mood and the fact that if anyone was wondering about the new car, they would now know it was a winner.
When Kiki and Barbara made their way into the Coyote's trailer, Hardcastle had his chance; he hoped to find out what he was missing here.
He asked McCormick, "What's up? Last night you were wound so tight I thought you'd fly into a million pieces. Tonight, you'd think you had been in that tequila again."
McCormick smiled. He knew exactly what the judge was talking about. He replied, "Well, tonight is different than last night. You've got a lot of teams that will be up all night working on their cars. There's too many people out and about for anyone to mess around someone else's trailer and not get caught. As for O'Connell, Hamilton broke in the heat. They'll have their hands full trying to get back together by tomorrow."
The judge was beginning to understand McCormick's logic.
Kiki and Barbara returned carrying four plastic cups, conveniently disguising their contents from the group of teens.
After giving the guys their cups of beer, Barbara said, "To the first successful day of FBM Johnson Racing."
Mark replied, "I'll second that. I've been meaning to ask you where the FBM came from?"
Barbara looked a bit surprised, "I would have thought that you figured that out when you saw it. Flip, Barbara, Mark ... FBM."
Mark looked like he might fall out of the chair. "Barbara, you didn't have to do that."
She smiled, "My father wouldn't have wanted it any other way. His design, my money, and your driving; sounds like a team to me. So, win, lose or draw you now have yourself a third of a racing team."
McCormick was now sitting up in his chair, "But, I may not be able to do the driving..."
Barbara interrupted, "I had this all worked out before I even talked to you. I knew going in that you may not be able be involved in this team much, if any. But, you were there with my dad in the beginning, you risked a lot for me, and," she glanced at Hardcastle, "you paid for it. So, like it or not, you're a team owner."
Any comments or further objections that Mark may have had were cut off by the kid's enthusiasm at the announcement.
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This was another short chapter, maybe I should have put these two together. Well, you know hind sight. Please review.