Steeling Her: Chapter 47

I am just laying here—in complete silence—listening to the pots and pans banging off one another in the far distance of the kitchen. My mom is hustling and bustling around to make breakfast. I could even hear her on the phone with an old friend who is a nutritionist, asking what’s the best breakfast she could make for a professional athlete.

The thought of her going out of her way to make sure I get my protein and nutrition makes me laugh. She had always been bending over backwards for me from the minute I was born.

She is a caretaker at heart and will always look after anyone she knows. She’s a talker, too, she can talk herself into or out of any situation you could think of. So, she has connections.

I’m up at 9 AM sharp. I can hear her feet patter up and down the hallway as she makes her way in and out of the kitchen. Bright and early, like always.

I just get the funny feeling that she misses me.

I miss her too. I always have, even when I was in college.

I lay on the bed with my arms over my stomach and the sheet loosely wrapped around me. The cool air from the air conditioner blows over my exposed skin while the sheet keeps me at the right temperature.

I’ve been told that I’m a walking furnace, so I like the cold.

I’ve decided to make the most of my last day here. Even though it was a short trip, I knew I had to come. I was able to mend what I needed, or at least tried to. It didn’t go so well yesterday, but at the same time, I feel the weight finally lift off my chest.

I got to say what I’ve been feeling for so long to my dad who meddled in my relationship, so mission accomplished. I’m just hoping it got through to him and he can look me in the eye once more.

I’ve been disgusted for so long, and I’m tired of carrying that weight.

Forgive, forget, and fix.

Move on. Move forward.

A soft knock on the door catches my attention. I know it’s my mom trying to see if I’m awake. So, I push myself up from the bed and answer, “Come in.”

But just as the door opens, I soon realize it’s not my mom—it’s my dad. “Hi,” he greets me and enters the room, leaving the door open behind him. Walking further and further into the room, he stands at the foot of my bed and rests both hands on his hips, shoulders square and eyes staring straight at me.

With a silent question of a raised brow, he continues with the reason behind his visit.

“Can I show you something?” he asks me and I nod in response. He moves towards the open door then stops. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he says over his shoulder and continues to walk away.

For the next few minutes, I spend the time getting dressed while thinking about the million and one possibilities of what he wants to show me, but I just couldn’t pin it down.

I raise myself off the bed after tying both laces and walk out. I close the door behind me and catch a small frame standing by her own bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” Ellie asks quietly.

“I’m not sure yet,” I reply, “somewhere with Dad.” I continue walking but I know that look on her face. It’s the same face she gave me when I told her that I’d be back five years ago.

I’ve instilled that anxiety in her because I was too selfish to return home. Even putting my anger aside, she suffered the most. “I will be coming back, don’t you worry about that. And maybe some time, I’ll get you to come visit me when you’re a little older so you can fly to me? How does that sound?” I ask her but it doesn’t work. She needs that reassurance, those words. “I promise you, Ellie, I will come back.” I walk over to my youngest yet fragile sister and hug her tight in my arms and lift her up. I hold out a pinky for to her for a pinky swear.

She giggles but does it anyway.

I set her down at her door and walk down the corridor to get to the stairs where my mom is waiting for me with a huge grin on her face.

“He’s waiting for you in the garage,” she says as she kisses me good morning. “Good morning too.” She winks and squeezes my hand. She nods down the hallway towards where her other half is and I leave her to it. Usually, we would sit down for breakfast, but it looks like everything has been put on hold and the table is set for just two now. I walk past the smell of pancakes and head over towards the garage door in the kitchen.

I push it open to reveal my dad staying under the rolled up door of the old Mustang he’s been working on, sticking out slightly more than last night. He peers at me over his left shoulder and stands beside the car.

He’s always been into cars.

I remember when I was a kid, I told him that when I make it pro that I’d buy him any car he wanted.

The naivety of children.

“Hop in.” He nods his head to the other door and slides himself into the driver’s side while I slip into the passenger’s side of the old yet stylish vehicle he calls his pride and joy. I close the door gently behind me as he used to roar at Haley for slamming it when we were younger, particularly any of the good cars he had. He used to yell, “Are you trying to shatter the window?” So, with that in mind, I shut it with enough force to close it but still gentle enough to not get yelled at.

“So, where are you taking me?” I ask. It’s still awkward between us because we’re still angry at each other, yet the air around us isn’t that hostile. I can’t explain it wholly.

All he says is “You’ll see.”

The drive is just forty minutes of us listening to the radio and the noise of passing cars. The car is a convertible, the side windows connected to one another. It has three doors; two to the side and one for the trunk. Very old but very classic.

Not a spec of dirt is on the paint or the leather seats. The odd conversation we have is him telling me all about the new installations he made to the car that was on the edge of going to the scrap yard. He worked on it for years and brought it back to life only recently.

By the sound of it, he has so much pride in the work he did on it, even if he’s holding back.

He parked up at a familiar place to me. One that was bittersweet.

Ole Miss. I haven’t been back here since I graduated. I was glad to be gone from here. I never wanted to come back, but here I am. As soon as the car rolls to a stop, my dad wastes no time in getting out. I begrudgingly follow him.

I stand and watch all the college students pass us by without any notice. “Come on, this way.” My dad grabs my attention again and drags me towards a place that I haven’t been in five long and painful years. The football training grounds.

We walk side by side, hands in our pockets and in pure silence, listening to nothing but our footsteps and stranger’s conversations.

It’s a short walk to get to where we wanted. We arrive outside the stadium where I trained with the team and where we played our home games. The memories of a bustling crowd screaming for us to win occupies my mind. A lot of celebrations and a lot of injuries were made on this field; some of them were career ending ones.

We make our way inside and bypass some people working to maintain the building. We head towards the seats where the fans sit and move down the steps towards the field I once played on. I soak it in and remember all of the times I used to look into this area to find Carter. I would always find her looking back at me like she was searching for me. It was harder for me to find her, but I always managed just fine to find her beauty within the crowd.

He sits in the first row of the stands, closest to the players’ benches and where Coach used to roar at us when we weren’t doing things his way.

I sit next to him, leaving one seat between us.

He spreads his arms out so they’re resting on the back of each of the adjacent seats. He leans back while I lean forward as we both stare out at the green grass lined with numbers and white paint.

I can see that there isn’t anyone training right now, so it’s peaceful. I have never seen the field in this state before. It’s so unfamiliar and strange, yet, beautiful in its own way.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but I took you here to see your very first football game. You had been watching it on the TV and kept begging me to take you to one. I couldn’t get you to go to bed because it’s all you wanted to see. You wanted to see a live game, one in a stadium. A college game was the only one I could bring you to at the time, so I brought you to Ole Miss versus Florida Gaters, right here. You had the itch the entire game, so I signed you up to play the next weekend when you were only four. I left you to make some friends and you liked it. You even got TJ involved. You two were inseparable.” He chuckles like old times. I crane my head around to face him but he continues to stare forward. I haven’t heard him laugh in so long. It’s an unfamiliar sound, yet something about it was comforting.

“You fell more in love with it. The more you watched, the more you wanted to play. You were never afraid to try something new on the field. It made you a better player over time as you knew what style you liked and what you didn’t. I loved watching you get better and better at almost every game you played. You used to get so upset if you weren’t on the field. You used to sit in the corner and sulk when you didn’t get what you wanted.” He turns his head to look back at me. “You’re used to doing things your own way, anyway. I remember you used to run out onto the field when you were told to sit on the bench until it was your turn. You always had a fire lit underneath you. You always had the drive to be the best on that field, and you were—you are. You only ever had football in your sight, and that’s all I ever had for you too. Your mom had your education first, I had your talent. You had both . . . until your last year of college—”

“I’m going to stop you there—”

“Let me speak,” he cuts me off once more. There is a softness in his tone, almost like he is pleading to me for more air time. So, I allow it and motion for him to continue on.

“You were doing so well. Your focus was only on school and football; that was it. Then, at the beginning of your last year, I watched you start to slip. I was terrified you were going to get passed over if you kept playing the way you were. I wanted the scouts to see your true potential, but you weren’t playing at the same level before you met Carter. I know it wasn’t fair to blame her entirely, and I apologize for that—”

“I’m not the one you need to say that to,” I butt in a little too harshly. The topic is very sensitive to me even after five years.

“I know, but I do owe you one too. I have been thinking about it since last night when you spoke about her. Even after all these years, I could see your face look different when you talk about her. I thought about it once more last night for the first time in five years. You’re just like me; you’re stubborn. And don’t go thinking that you got it from your mother. You didn’t. You’re right about everything you said. I shouldn’t have interfered, it isn’t my life. It’s yours, and I wasn’t living my dream through yours. I was a good college football player, but I would have never made it to the NFL like you. I knew you could make it that far, Nick. I just didn’t want you to regret it if you got passed over. And look at you, you got drafted easily. Definitely shut me up.. And to be quite honest, I thought you would have gotten back together with her as soon as you made it.” He shrugs while still maintaining eye contact.

“She didn’t want to talk to me—”

“I know, you hurt her with the decision I effectively forced you into. I shouldn’t have. I knew you loved her then, and I know you love her now, but you weren’t going to get drafted, Nick. I thought I was doing the right thing as it was the only thing that I knew would get your focus back. Your game was slipping, whether you wanted to hear it or not, and I did talk to Bulldog. He agreed that your game was going downhill—”

“I can control my focus much better now,” I cut him off.

“I have no doubt that you can. I still watch you on TV,” he admits with sorrow in his eyes. I remember roaring at him that he cannot come to any of my professional games. I became a petty son of a bitch and only sent tickets for Ellie and my mom.

I was fuming; I never wanted anything to do with him. It’s only now I’ve realized that he thought he was doing the right thing at the time. He now knows that it wasn’t the case—that he fucked up. He still believed it until last night. All this time, he had convinced himself that it was the correct decision. And it only took to see how broken I am without her for him to realize that it did more damage than he initially thought.

“She was never just some girl to me,” I answer.

“I’ve only realised now,” he confesses. “And the truth be told, I never paid her any attention because I thought she was just another one for you. The ‘for now’ girl and that you’d move on to the next as soon as you left college. I mean, you looked like you were, judging from the media and the tabloids.” He’s making reference to the girls I had hooked up with over the last five years.

“Not my finest moments, I know.” I rub my hands together and shift from side to side, cringing at the thought.

“Everyone fucks up.” There’s a double meaning to that but I don’t push it.

It took him five years, I know, but he finally recognizes it.

“I’m sorry.” That’s the one thing I didn’t think he’d say, yet he did. He actually said it. But it’s hard for me to accept. All the pain and anger that he caused me won’t just go away that quickly. Our relationship is fractured, and it will be for a while. It will rebuild back but not to what it used to be. It will never go back to that.

“It’ll take time,” I tell him and look down at my feet. “Our relationship will not be the same, but you already know that.” I can see from the corner of my eye that he’s nodding softly.

“I understand. It will come in time,” he agrees.

I know no matter how hard we work on our relationship, it won’t be the same. There will be a hint of resentment from me, and he knows that. I’ve wasted five years without the woman I love because of him, and he knows that. It’s not about punishing him and it’s not about punishing myself. This is just what it is, this is what it’s all come down to. This moment.

Forgive, forget, and fix.

Forgiving is the easy part.

Forgetting is the hard part.

But fixing—fixing is the unknown part. That takes time, and I don’t know when it’ll happen but we can only start from the very beginning and try.

“Before I came out here, I spoke to Elaine Steel. She advised me to come see you and talk this out. She used three simple words—”

“Forgive, forget, and fix?” he asks. I snap my head around to face him. He stares back with a smirk on his face.

“Did she speak to you too?” I ask incredulously.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, it’s an old saying that some people from ’round here say a lot. She convinced you to come down here then? To talk this out with me?” I nod back and rub my hands along my mouth out of nervousness.

“She was like a second mom to me,” I whisper to him only for him to sit forward and gather my attention back.

“Your mom hounded me over this too. When you refused to talk to me at first for the first few months, so did she. She wouldn’t even look at me. I thought the marriage was over.” He sighs. “Love is complicated but you stick with who you love no matter what, and that’s what she did with me. Even when she didn’t agree with it, she stuck by my side.” My mom never told me any of this, she always kept me and my sisters out of any fights or quarrels between my dad and her. She never wanted us to see them fighting. That doesn’t mean we didn’t. She tried to hide it but we always knew. I always knew she fought with him about me and Carter, but I never got the details.

It remained silent for the next few minutes as we just sit in the stands during the hot sunny day. Nothing is going on, but I am able to find my inner peace by just sitting here, especially after having the civil conversation that I never thought I’d have, especially since the topic is something so traumatic for me.

I was traumatized after what had happened that day five years ago.

I had fallen in love with Carter, and it had been cruelly taken away from me. I was the happiest I’d ever been. I felt invincible, on cloud nine, but it was ripped away from me.

“I forgive you,” I say, simply to let him know. “I may not agree with how or why you did it, but I forgive you.” It was time to tell him that. It had been weighing heavy on both of us for so long. It’s time to let it go. It was not fair for either of us to carry it around, but it most certainly isn’t fair on Carter. “Having said all of that, I still think you owe Carter an apology.”

***

I have ordered enough food for my entire neighborhood. It’s all laid out on the table and ready for me to pick at throughout the game. Sunday night football, and the Chargers are playing tonight. I couldn’t afford the ticket to go and watch. I didn’t want my brother to pay for it, either, so I finally got him to stop badgering about paying for me.

It took a while because I know how persistent Chris can be. He knows I love to watch a live game in the midst of the crowd. The atmosphere is intoxicating. There is nothing quite like it, if you ask me.

But the living room will do for now until their next home game.

I have nachos, chicken quesadillas, potato salad, and pasta. All of my favourites that I spent the entire morning preparing, except for the salads; I did them yesterday. I have one of my brother’s playing a game in Arizona while the other is in New Jersey with my dad as the head coach, both at separate times. There will be a crossover, so I have to flick back and forth to see the score.

This is the battle me and my mom often face when we have three family members on two different teams playing different games and different times.

What a nightmare.

I sit on the sofa and wait for the team line up to be shown on the screen. I know it’s nearly time. I watch each of the players stand in their positions as each of their names are announced. I see Chris and smile; I see TJ and smile; then I see Nick and I still smile.

In fact, I pause the TV so it stays on his face. I push myself up from the sofa and walk over to the screen so that those beautiful hunter-green eyes stare at me like he used to. I sigh at how pathetic I actually am right now. I unpause the program and allow the TV to continue on.

I sit back on my heels and stare at the wide screen TV that is showing the opponents for tonight. I prepare myself for the game and go back to the sofa.

For the next few hours, I scream and shout at the people I know are dominating the game. The Chargers are in full control for the first quarter of the game and are going at full steam. Chris is on fire; he’s finally gotten his groove back after the last few games he’s had. Because of this, he’s unstoppable right now.

It always makes me smile to see him play like this, to show the world how truly talented he is. My brother is a credit to this game and his family. I’m always so proud of him that he gets to do what he loves everyday, both of my brothers. They have raised that standard of football without intending to, and it has paid off for them.

The whole country gets to see their talent.

The one person I find myself looking for throughout happens to be the star of this game. I’ve never seen him play so amazing. It’s truly beautiful and a pleasure to watch him. The way he moves on the field is completely different to any other player I have seen. He has his own signature, his own way, his own play.

The fluidity of the way he releases the ball; the precision in how he calls the shots and orders the play; the memory he has to be able to remember so many different plays and to know which ones would work against the opponent; the ability to read his opponents, to read the field, and to read their game—their styles. It is amazing to watch how methodical he is, how he chooses what is best and how confident he is in his play and decisions.

There is no room for doubt in his eyes, and you can see that when he pulls the guys into position and orders them to follow the same beat.

It’s a different kind of art form.

***

“Alright, guys!” Our coach gets our attention in the locker rooms by yelling at us. “Great game, you guys did good, but we still have a long way to go. We need to keep this momentum going. We need to get to the Super Bowl. That is the goal you guys. I know if you continue to play like that, you will all get there. Alright?”

“Yes, sir!” we all answer proudly. We are on track but we need to keep the focus going.

“Alright, hit the showers. You all stink,” he jokes and leaves us to it. I grab my things for the shower and walk in to clean myself off from the sweat I pumped out throughout the game. Arizona is hot as hell, and I always forget that. We were sweating buckets throughout the game because of this. The fact that we ended up winning makes the trip so much sweeter.

“You coming out with us, Jackson?” Perez, a fellow teammate, asks me just as I strip off.

“Nah, not my scene—”

“Not your scene? Man, we all know that’s a load of bullshit. You have to come out.” He chuckles and so do some of the guys.

“Lay off, Perez. If he doesn’t want to go out, then he doesn’t want to go out,” Jason interjects. To be honest, I don’t want to go out because I do not want to be seen around girls. I know that, that is all they want. Most of the guys on the team are single and only a handful are married and have girlfriends. The others just go out to get a hook up before they go back to LA.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to win back the woman that I love. I can’t take a step backwards and lose her trust.

“Pfft, pussy.” He laughs it off. “You got a chick back at the hotel or something?” He chuckles but Chris darts his eyes at me and Perez caught on. “Woah, what was that look you gave him?-”

“Do you?” Chris asks me with an underlying annoyance wrapped into it.

“No, I don’t have a chick back at the hotel,” I deny confidently because it’s true. The thought never even crossed my mind, nor did I even consider it.

“Yeah, yeah. You totally do, Nick.” Perez is stirring the pot and I’m beginning to get annoyed with him.

“No, I fucking don’t. Drop it.” I assert and he begins to smirk, thinking it’s hilarious.

“Perez, don’t,” Jason warns him again. The kid never listens. I’m lucky if I can get his attention during a game, never mind after it. Especially when he’s so close to having his arms around a few girls that he will never see.

“What? So you’re telling me the fucking King of Hooking Up isn’t going to a club to hook up with someone and that he doesn’t have a few lined up and ready to go back in his hotel room? I’d say you met the girl in the hotel—”

“That’s enough!” I roar at him. He didn’t expect that reaction because he drops his towel and freezes on the spot.

“Nick,” Chris warns me. I look at him, annoyed that he doubts me, but I know he’s still unsure and doesn’t know what to believe.

I take in a deep breath and continue to make my way past Perez, who looks terrified of me. I did gain a reputation of always starting fights and using my fists to end them. He knows it too. “Nick,” Chris calls after me, making me stop in my tracks.

“I don’t have a girl back at the fucking hotel.” I say while growling at him and turn to face Perez. “I’m trying to win back the one girl that I have ever loved, and it happens to be his sister”—I point to Chris—“I don’t need you fucking that up for me, Perez. So, no, I have no intention of fucking a girl tonight. I will be going back to my room. I don’t need to be Nick ‘Bad Boy of the NFL’ Jackson for tonight.” I leave after that. Nothing more is said, not even in the showers.

I have a temper, I know, but I don’t like people saying that stuff about me anymore. In the past, I ignored it, but now, I know it will get back to Carter and she will form an incorrect opinion of me. It affects her in more ways than I can count.

The showers were awkward and quiet. Nobody spoke, they were all afraid to. I finish quickly and return to my locker to get changed and leave so I can return to the hotel. Usually, they would have a dinner for the players afterwards, but I’m going to skip that too. I just need to be out of the public eye for the night. I need to recover.

I need to be alone.

I pack my bag and throw it over my shoulder.

“Wait up!” I hear Chris’s voice and it makes me shut my eyes and sigh as I turn around to face him. Of the two brothers, he’s the most protective of her. I know what he’s going to say. “Ride with me, I’m going back to the hotel too. Taylor is with us, so I need to put her to sleep—”

“I can watch her,” I offer. “You and Danielle can go out with Haley and TJ, I can stay in and watch her. I’m going to stay in for the night anyway,” I offer as an excuse to stay out of any clubs they’re going to.

He doesn’t say anything other than nod his head in the direction of the door. I leave with him and walk down the desolate hallways of the stadium.

All you can hear is our footsteps as we walk towards the exit.

He starts talking to break the silence, “I know you love my sister. I kinda always knew you did. I knew she also did too.”

Did, past tense. Have I lost her completely? I sullenly think to myself.

He adjusts his bag before continuing, “I know you’re trying to do right by her, but she doesn’t trust you, Nick. You let her down and broke her heart. I’m her brother, and I will always protect her, especially from broken hearts. I know she’s a fully grown woman, but she’s still my little sister. So, forgive me if I’ve lost trust in you too. Just saying you’re not going out to party with girls and the team doesn’t make it better in my eyes. You have a long way to go with her. It’s not going to be sunshine and—”

“I don’t want that,” I cut him off.

“What do you want then? Do you even know?” he asks. This is the calmest I’ve ever seen Chris. He’s usually a complete goofball and is always laughing while being the butt of a joke, but this is a different version of him; one that I’ve never seen before. It’s quite refreshing even when his words are harsh.

“I want her,” I simply say.

“It’s not that easy—”

“Isn’t it?” I reply. We stop walking and we face one another for this part of the conversation.

“She’s taken,” he reminds me and I look down in sorrow.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try, Chris. He doesn’t treat her well, even you know that,” I state facts that he can’t even deny.

“But it’s not my choice, not my life, and not my relationship.” He shrugs and places both hands in his pockets.

“But you can see what I see,” I point out.

“That he’s not right for her?” he asks and I nod. “Yeah, I can see that, but she has chosen to stay with him. That’s not up to you.” I sigh. He’s right, but I’m tired of waiting.

“Five years, Chris,” I remind him.

“And who’s fault is that?” He raises an eyebrow, challenging me for the answer we both know. I exhale harshly, knowing that this fuck up has left me in limbo.

Do I get my chance or not?

“Look, I know you’re a good guy. Better than him, hell, I fucking told her that. I nearly lost it with Danielle when I found out she set them up—”

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“Not important.” He shakes his head, wanting me to not go there. “Look, you and I both know she needs to make a decision on what she wants, but that’s her decision. You made one five years ago that made you stand right here and confess to me how much you love my sister when you should be telling her that, not me.

“That decision has tarnished your reputation and taken the trust she had with you away. I know you were forced into it, I get that when you were young, you thought there was nothing else you can do other than take the choice, but you did choose, and you didn’t choose her. She’s the type of girl that doesn’t want to get in the way of someone else’s dream, but it still hurts her. And while it wasn’t the first time it happened to her, it hurt for her even more because she loved you, Nick. And I know you’re trying to make up for lost time, I can see that you’re really trying, but I’m not sure that it’s enough.” He systematically shatters my hopes.

“So, what do you suggest I do?” I ask him to help me.

“I suggest you ask her that, not me.” He sends me a tight smile and continues to walk down the tunnel. “And I know you don’t have another girl waiting for you in your hotel room. Perez can be a dick sometimes—he’s young, stupid, and hasn’t fallen in love before—so he doesn’t understand. If he could run on the field like he runs his mouth, he’d be one hell of a player, that’s for sure.” Chris snorts and goes back to his goofy self.

“Daddy!” Taylor screeches and it echoes loudly through the tunnel.

“There’s my princess!” Chris crouches down to lift up his little girl into his arms after running as fast as she could. When she reaches him, he surrounds her face with small pecks of love that she so clearly enjoys. When we get to Danielle, he engulfs her too and gives her a long kiss.

“Hey, you played so amazing!” She rubs his cheeks and he leans in to kiss her forehead as a sign of how much he cares for her.

“Yeah, Daddy played so good!” Taylor slaps her dad. “Hi, Nick!” She waves hysterically over at me. She never fails to make me smile.

“Hi, Taylor,” I greet her and give her a high five.

“You played unbelievable tonight, Nick. I don’t think I’ve seen you play so good in a long time. You just seem to get better and better with every game.” Danielle squeezes my arm.

“I must be getting more used to the team these days,” I thank her as she begins to take Taylor back from Chris, who begins to walk over to the car we’re riding in.

“Well, your game didn’t go unnoticed.” She winks after her cryptic sentence. I look at her in confusion as we walk over to the vehicle, so she smiles. “You’ve also gained another fan.” She points to her daughter, who grins largely back at me in delight. “She was cheering for you for the most part. Sorry Chris, you got demoted to second string for most of the game. I thought I lost her to Jackson for the rest of the game,” she playfully jokes to Chris, who begins to tickle his daughter, making her screech in laughter.

“My own daughter would never betray me,” he jokes as he listens to the sound of her laughing uncontrollably in the car seat.

I slide into the back beside Danielle while Chris is up front with the driver that will take us back to the hotel.

“So you’re not going out tonight?” Danielle asks me, and I catch Chris’ eyes look at me through the rear view mirror and smile to myself.

“No, but if you and Chris are, I can be on babysitting duties,” I offer. Danielle shoots a look to Chris, who rolls his eyes.

“She’s all yours, Jackson!” Danielle throws a fist in the air just as we move off.

“Thanks, Jackson,” Chris says sarcastically and I wink back at him.

“Anytime.”