“Why? That’s kind of weird,” he said.
I laughed. I loved the raw honesty of a child. While most adults kept their opinions to themselves, only to voice them when in the restroom or after leaving for the evening, kids would be upfront—no pettiness, no games. It was refreshing.
“I guess I just don’t like it,” I answered.
“Not even steak? My dad makes the best steak.”
“I bet he does, but no, especially not steak.”
“Someday,” Jackson said, “I’ll get you to eat one of my steaks, and when I feed it to you, it will be the best damn meal of your life.”
His voice deepened, and I wondered if the offer came with the option to lick his fingers clean as well.
“Better than Thai?” I asked, trying to keep my brain out of the deep gutter I’d created.
“Way better than Thai.” His lopsided grin nearly had me but I refused to be charmed.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I mocked his pet name from earlier, “never going to happen.”
Our food arrived just then, and the conversation quickly died to a minimum as food became the main focus. I did manage to get Noah to talk about school a bit.
“Are you excited?” I asked between bites.
“I guess.” He shrugged.
“That’s about all I can get out of him, too,” Jackson said.
He had already managed to polish off his extra-large slice of pizza while I was still only three bites into mine.
I gave Jackson a wink. He’s just playing it cool, I mouthed.
We finished up lunch, and being the Southern gentleman he was, Jackson insisted on paying.
“Are you sure? I can pay for my part,” I said.
He stole the check out of my hand right after the waitress had placed it on the table.
“I asked you to join us, so it’s my treat,” he pressed.
“Okay,” I relented. “Thank you.”
His eyes met mine once more, and he gave a brief nod.
“Where are we off to next, tour guide?”
“If our next stop doesn’t amaze you, I don’t know what will.”
~Jackson~
Liv pulled the car into the parking spot and cut the engine.
“Is this what I think it is?” I asked.
“It depends on what you think this is,” she mocked.
“Are we at the training camp for the Washington Redskins?” I looked around, watching families pile out of their cars, covered in burgundy jerseys.
“Why then, yes, Jackson, this is in fact exactly what you think it is.” She smiled.
“Holy shit,” Noah whispered from the backseat.
“Noah!” I scolded even though I had been about to say the same thing. The little nut had just beaten me to it.
“Did you not know the team trained here during the summer?” Liv asked.
We climbed out of her tiny car, the one she’d insisted on driving because mine was, as she’d put it, “a gas-guzzling ozone killer.”
I helped her pull a few things from the trunk. The woman had come prepared with blankets, a few chairs, and even a picnic basket and cooler.
“I knew. I mean, I heard from a few guys at work that the team practiced here.”
“It’s a big thing for the local fans. They’ve only been training in Richmond for a couple of years, and it’s become one of the biggest events of the summer. We just need a ticket to get in,” she said, waving her hand in the air, “which we have.” She dove into her tiny purse and produced a printed piece of paper from its depths.
I grabbed it and saw it was indeed the golden ticket to get us in. She stole it back just as we reached the gate and as if the gates of heaven were opening up, they let us proceed forward, and make our way to the field.
“Whoa! Dad, look!” Noah exclaimed, pointing ahead, as the first string made their way across the grass.
“This is amazing, Liv. Seriously. I would never have thought of this.”
“I know. All the chemicals in your brain from that crappy food you eat clog the thought process.”
I looked over at her and watched the serious face she was trying to uphold melt into a fit of laughter.
“I’m kidding!” She giggled. “Mostly. Come on, let’s go, counselor.”
Watching a training practice was light years different than seeing an actual game. There was no stadium or huge jumbotrons advertising various sponsors and vendors. It was simple and gave real fans the opportunity to see behind the scenes.
We found an open spot of grass with a great view of the field. Together, the three of us spread out the large blanket and set up the two chairs for Liv and me while Noah lounged on the ground.
“What do you have in here?” Noah asked, peeking in the basket.
“Fruit and crackers. Some cheese as well as some water is in the cooler.”
His face scrunched together in displeasure, and I laughed. Noah was not a fan of health food.
“Some cookies might also be in there somewhere,” she said in a sweet tone.
That kid’s cookie radar hadn’t lessened with age. In three seconds flat, he found the chocolate chip cookies, and he was stuffing one in his mouth.
“Hmm…not bad,” he mumbled between bites.
“Are they as good as my grandmother’s?” I asked her, taking one to try for myself.
“No, definitely not. She had a way with cookies, if you remember me telling you.”
Oh, yes, I did.
We spent the next hour watching numerous drills and plays being practiced over and over across the field. The coaches worked the men hard, and by the time the whistle called for break, the team was dripping with sweat and gasping for air.
Some chose to make their way into the locker rooms while many others walked across the field to the fence where their eager fans awaited for a moment or two of attention.
Noah watched and nearly vibrated with excitement as several of his favorite players stepped up to the fence. Children and adults alike swarmed them, asking for s and pictures. They were gracious and signed everything and anything shoved in front of them, from pictures to notebooks, and even in their exhausted state, they still posed for pictures.
Liv and I stood with Noah and waited our turn, finally making it up to the front.
I looked over at Noah, who appeared to have temporarily lost the ability to speak.
“Hi, this is my son, Noah. He’s a big fan.”
His head bobbed up and down, but still, no words came.
The guy in the middle smiled, turning his head from me to Noah and then finally stopping on Liv. “Beautiful family you’ve got.”