Page 39 of Subtracting the Heart

The host turned to the other guys at the table and the three spoke about who was where in the run for the big game. Chicago had earned a wildcard spot, but their opponent was yet to be known. The outcome of another game later that day would seal the deal.

After the three other commentators pontificated on who would play whom and how the postseason would shake out, offering nothing of any consequence, the camera shifted to a two-shot with Jackson and the hall-of-fame quarterback for Pittsburgh. He was an older man who’d made his way into acting of late, so Cade hoped the guy had an open mind when it came to Jackson.

“Thanks, guys. I’m pleased to have the opportunity to sit down with the Ragin’ Cajun, number seventy-nine, Jackson Delacroix, left defensive tackle and four-time Pro Bowler for Chicago, ten years running. Welcome, Jackson,” The man turned to Jax.

“Thank you, man. It’s great to be here,” Jax said with a bright smile. Cade could see that twinkle in Jax’s eyes, and it made him sigh, bringing Ford’s hand to take his own and grip it gently.

“I still do it when I see him on television. Hell, I do it when I see him come home at night.” Ford squeezed Cade’s hand.

“We’re so fucking lucky to have him.” Cade lifted Ford’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“Blah, blah, blah. Shut the fuck up or go downstairs.” Ashton tossed popcorn at the two of them. They both laughed.

“What happened last Sunday with DC? You were strong on the line, Jackson. I’ve watched the highlight reel, and I didnotsee it coming.” The interviewer didn’t take his eyes of Jax.

Jax gave that devilish grin he sometimes wore when he was about to say something outrageous. “They were grasping at straws to get our playoff spot, and hell, I’d be all over me if I was somebody else. Seriously, the league ruled it as a legal hit, so I gotta accept the ruling. My broken leg doesn’t feel like it wasfair, but that’s just my opinion.” It didn’t sound like much of an opinion at all, but it brought a laugh from Ford.

“What?” Cade found nothing funny about the comment.

“He’s hedging his bets. He might want a career in broadcasting so he’s not going to say anything that might make it sound as if he’s questioning the league’s ruling. They have a say in who works at the networks and calls the games. If Jax wants to work for Chicago as a color guy, he’s not going to piss them off. I’d bet Stan’s either there or had a stern discussion with him on the phone earlier to rein him in.” Ford continued to chuckle.

Just as Cade was about to ask if Ford thought Jax would want a career in broadcasting, the doorbellbongeda few times. “I’ll get it.” Cade hopped out of what felt like a cradle. Those damn chairs were addicting.

He bolted downstairs and opened the door to see Cleve, Griff, and Miss Winnie. The guys were carrying large baskets of food, and Miss Winnie was carrying a huge slow cooker.

“Hey, everyone. What’s going on?” Cade happily led them into the kitchen.

“We thought you boys could use some snacks, and I invited myself and these two for the game.” Miss Winnie had a bright smile as she placed the slow cooker on the counter and turned to hug Cade.

“You got skinny again, baby boy. We’ll have to work on that. Where are all those young men?” She glanced his way as she plugged in the pot.

Cade couldn’t help but tear up, handing her the note they’d shoved into a kitchen drawer to show Jax. Miss Winnie read it and sniffled before she handed it to Cleveland and hugged Cade.

“Oh, child, now you know God has paths for all of us, and it seems like these young men decided it was time to find theirs. You boys did them a great service by letting them stay here,allowing them time to think. Where’s Ford and Ashton?” she asked, just as they came down the stairs.

“My babies.” She hugged both of them.

Cleveland chuckled. “Let’s put these in the oven to stay warm for now, Momma. I’m sure we’ll put a dent in ’em, but the Cajun will be home tonight. Nothin’s gonna go to waste.” Cleveland winked at Cade.

The five of them went upstairs to the media room, and they happily watched as Chicago kicked Minnesota’s ass up and down the snowy field. Cade saw the former Minnesota player, Hans Linder, sneering on the line when the camera focused on him, reminding the viewers he had been a player for the home team and had been traded at the beginning of the season.

It was truly an ass-whipping with a score of 30-7 at the end. Chicago would go into the postseason with a ferocious win under their belts and a lot of momentum. Cade knew it was what Jax wanted, and he was happy it was what he got.

The interviewer hadn’t put Jax on the spot about his personal life, only asking him if he felt the press had been fair to him about beingoutin the NFL. Cade was a little nervous about the Cajun’s answer.

Jax chuckled for a second. “Somebody’s gotta be first, Jerry. I’m no different than any other guy. I love who I love, and I don’t want anybody bothering my family. You feel the same about yours, right?”

The interviewer nodded and went to a commercial, but to Cade, it meant everything. Jackson Delacroix wasn’t hiding any longer, but he wasn’t going to puthis familyinto the hell of being in the limelight.

It was the best place to be. If it was anyone else in his shoes at that moment, Cade would be jealous for sure.

After the game, Ford, Cade, Cleveland, and Griff went to Griff’s old place to collect the rest of Cade’s things, loadingthem in the back of Jax’s blue beast. When they returned to the Greystone, they carried things upstairs for Cade to unpack at his leisure while they went back downstairs to let Miss Winnie spoil them with her delicious food. It was a great way to start the New Year.

Chapter Seventeen

Jax

Jax sat on the bus taking the team to the airport where he prayed that they could get a flight out on January 2. The game had ended at three thirty the previous afternoon, but the city was shut down due to blizzard-like conditions. He’d called Ford and Cade to tell them he wouldn’t be home that night, but he could tell something wasn’t right.

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