Jess sat in the pits, unmoving as she felt someone settle beside her and put an arm over her shoulder.
"He can get grouchy over the radio, but somehow I think he'll take it easy on you."
She smirked and looked toward Cruz.
"Don't take my word for it, though."
She felt a strange surrealism settle over her, like today wasn't her first official race. She was still that pale little girl pictured sitting on her father's knee in the pit box, freckled face intent on the track in front of them.
She glanced in either direction before leaning in and muttering quietly. "You think I'm ready?"
Cruz leaned to the side to get a better look at her, brow raised in a skeptical expression. "You did not just ask me that."
She offered a closed mouth grin, looking back toward the track.
Her biggest fear was that Piston Cup was humoring her due to her name.
Cruz's voice was a low murmur, keeping the conversation private even in the bustling atmosphere of Pit Row. "I have watched you from the time you could walk. You've never once allowed a track of any kind to trip you up."
After a pause she continued. "Where's this coming from?"
"I guess the magnitude has settled in. This isn't the junior racing circuits..."
Most kids grew out of it, she'd only gotten more entrenched in the sport.
The racing suit was stiff, still heavily starched. She popped the button on the collar and unzipped the front in an attempt to relax in the afternoon heat. The old Rust-eze red and yellow logo on her t-shirt suddenly apparent against the black suit.
"You look sharp, Kiddo."
She glanced up and smiled. "Thanks, Daddy."
"Careful." Lightning warned sarcastically as he sat on her other side. "Anyone realizes we're related and they'll claim there's a conflict of interest."
"They wouldn't challenge Lightning McQueen..."
"You'd be surprised."
Cruz shook her head, leaning over to offer Jess a one armed hug before standing up. "I have to go meet up with family that wanted to come. I'm not used to the spectator side of this-"
"You could bring them back here." Lightning commented.
"It's loud enough back here as it is..." She shrugged a shoulder and looked toward their newest rookie knowingly. "I'll see you in the winner's circle."
"Ok." She grinned.
Silence fell over the father-daughter duo after Cruz had waved her goodbye. They both stared out toward the cars parked on Pit Row.
"You're thinking."
"Yeah."
"Are you over thinking?"
"Probably."
He stood and nudged her shoulder in a silent request to follow him and she did so without question, she couldn't think of a single moment in her life she hadn't listened to her father.
They made it to the travel trailer and Lightning opened the side access door, motioning for her to step inside before him.
Standing in the living quarters, Jess leaned her back against the dinette and watched idly as her mother was pulling waters out of the fridge to pack the cooler.
They'd taken to staying on the tracks when she was still elementary school age, it had allowed her to be home schooled and kept the family together when her father's demanding career forced them to spend so much time away from Radiator Springs. Then it had been put to good use when she had started racing junior circuits. The front half of the trailer was their living space while the back had still been more than large enough for her racing kart when she'd been a kid. Now it transported the stock car.
"What does the back of your suit say?"
"What?" She raised a brow and looked at him in confusion.
"Humor me, Sweetheart."
She hesitated. "...Hudson Motor Car Company..."
She'd been floored when she'd been approached by the up and coming brand. After decades of obscurity after being bought out in 1957, one lone descendant of the original family was bringing the name back, and what better way than to get involved with Piston Cup again? Granted their vehicles looked nothing like the makes of the 1950's and were more comparable to the modern Ford or Nissan, she'd jumped at the chance to be their driver.
She'd even been granted the opportunity to choose her own colors and number.
She'd hemmed and hawed for weeks, and both Lightning and Sally had nearly grown tired of the different combinations she had asked their opinions on.
Jess had finally settled on black and white, thinking it looked sharp and fairly retro, which was what the brand was going for.
Luckily no other driver had the #55. #51 and #95 were still somewhat in use, so she'd compromised.
"Exactly. Do you think they're going to put that name on anyone?"
"...No."
"Don't doubt yourself."
"But-" She took a deep breath and huffed, crossing her arms. "This sport is so political, Daddy...everyone is waiting to see if I make it or fall on my face."
"That's all part of it."
She realized that, but she didn't have to like it. Jessica set her mouth in a thin line and stared across the small space.
"We're not going to let you fall on your face." Sally had set the cooler down near the door and turned toward her daughter, brushing the girl's hair behind her ears the way she had when Jess was little. "If I didn't feel like you knew what you were doing, do you think I'd let you near that car?"
"No."
"You're going to be fine." She nodded before kissing her daughter's cheek. "And don't be afraid to finish somewhere other than first, this is your first race."
"Thanks."
"Of course, Sweetheart." She grabbed the cooler and commented before leaving the trailer. "I'd blame your father anyway, he's your crew chief."
"Woah- wait-" Lightning started.
"See you in the pits, Stickers." She grinned and let the door close behind her.
There was a long pause once Sally had left.
"She still calls you Stickers?" Jess had heard the story enough times.
"We're not talking about me."
She smirked and raised both brows once before becoming serious again.
"I don't want to let anyone down."
Lightning only regarded her quietly a moment before smiling faintly. Before him stood twenty years of birthdays, Christmases, countless retellings of how he'd shown up in the cutest little town in Carburetor County, scuffed knees, junior racing championships, long nights going over engines, sharing stories at the Butte, finally explaining that there was actually science behind a spoiler, and surprise when she was the one to explain on her own what the 'step-down chassis' in a Hudson Hornet was.
"You could never let anyone down."
"I just-"
"I know you just-" He grinned, cutting her off and cupping her cheek with a hand when she started looking overwhelmed. "Look at me."
She blinked rapidly a few times and looked up at him.
"There's nothing you could do that would ever change our love for you. You're our daughter. We'll always be proud of you."
He hugged her tightly. "We all love you. You could decide you hated racing-"
She laughed. "Fat chance."
"-and go farm cows the rest of your life. No one would care." He stepped back and made a face. "Well maybe, but we'd still love you."
She grinned. "Thanks..."
"Any time, Kiddo."
They walked arm in arm back to Pit Row and he gave her an encouraging pat on the back before climbing up into the pit box. He nodded once at his wife's questioning look and she grinned as he sorted out the headset.
On the ground, Jess stood beside the black stock car and fished the ear piece from her pocket. She stiffened at the comment she heard over her shoulder.
"Awfully big name for such a little girl."
Alright, yeah, she was petite but really...
She glanced in the general direction of the statement and saw a few other drivers going for their gear. She was the only proper rookie that season but it was a fairly young generation coming up. Nick Wilson shook his head in a gesture of it wasn't me and inclined his head toward the driver across from him.
"Excuse me?" Jess asked, pulling her hair back.
"Your sponsor chose poorly. Someone else should be driving for that name." The #71 driver clarified.
"Seth, lay off..." She heard Nick mutter.
"You're right. Someone else should." She replied while reaching for her gear. "But he's not here so I'll have to do my best."
"Your old man shouldn't have let you out here."
"I guess we'll find out won't we."
She'd never met Seth Harris officially before but she already knew how she felt about him.
She climbed in to the car and finished getting her helmet situated, instead of a regular radio check, her father immediately asked what had happened, she forgot he'd have eyes everywhere from up there.
"Nothing." She nearly snapped, fixing her glove.
"You ok?"
"Yeah. I want to smoke this field."