Jilted Jock - Rebecca Jenshak Page 0,82
slowly. I wanted to press him for more information, but I didn’t. I was thankful to have Chance in my life regardless of where I stood with Adele. He was my childhood hero and a pretty great friend when I needed one too.
“Alright, little man, say thank you to Finn.”
CJ smiled up at me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I held out my hand and he gave me a low five.
Chance opened the rear car door and lifted CJ in. Once he was buckled, he shut the door and turned to me.
“She’s really okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good. Really good, I think. The last time she called she sounded… different. I can’t explain it. She was on the top of a mountain she’d just climbed like some sort of adventure badass. That’s the old Adele I remember – bold and daring.” Chance shook his head like he couldn’t believe it, but the thought of her climbing mountains made a real smile pull at my lips. At least she’d held on to something from our time together. “I’m sure she misses you, but she’s doing well.”
“Thanks for that. And I’m glad she’s doing well.”
We shook hands and Chance got in and started the car.
“Wait.” I motioned for him to roll the window down and he complied. “Could you just tell her I’m sorry. I should have made the effort to understand what she was going through sooner. I’m working through the steps and I just… it’s important to me that she knows I’m sorry for that.”
He studied me silently for a long moment. “I’ll tell her.”
I cleared my throat and tried to inject some peppiness into my voice. “Also, I wanted to invite you and the family to an event next weekend. It’s an obstacle course run for charity. There’s even a separate kid’s course CJ could dominate.”
He chuckled and nodded. “That sounds fun. Shoot me the details and we’ll swing by if we can. Need to talk to Aubrey and see what she’s got going on.”
“Great.”
I stepped back and watched as they drove away and then I got in my own car and headed home alone.
The next week was more of the same. Train, practice, eat, sleep, game, and when I wasn’t teaching Marshmallow new tricks, I was working on the charity event. Since our media department insisted that I find a new charity or work with Cindy on my previous one, I’d obviously chosen the first.
The Chuck Project was a local group that helped bring awareness to substance use prevention and also aided in treatment navigation and family support services.
From the moment I met Chuck, the founder, I knew it was where I was meant to be. I was passionate about the cause, of course, but the events and the way he went about making a difference while still infusing life and happiness spoke to me. It didn’t need to be stiff cocktail hours and five thousand plate dinners to make a difference in people’s lives.
On Saturday, I showed up early to greet people and sign autographs or stand for pictures as they arrived. I didn’t love the idea of making any of it about me, but Chuck said it would be fun for people to have such an up-close encounter with a local athlete.
It ended up being far more casual than I expected. Some people just wanted to say hey, others wanted selfies, but with the music blasting in the background and kids running around, it all just felt like a good time. Chance hadn’t shown, but he’d told me he wasn’t sure he could, so I wasn’t exactly surprised.
The adult run was set to go first, and I donned an event t-shirt and stood at the start line ready to go when the whistle blew.
The course was two miles with fifteen obstacles including walls, mud, monkey bars, a rope climb, and more. When I crossed the line, it was with sweat and dirt covering me from my ear-to-ear grin to my shoes that were so wet and muddy they felt like bricks. I slogged toward the hose off area, accepting high fives with other muddy racers and congratulations from spectators.
It was gonna take several real showers to feel clean again, but I did my best to get the worst off and changed into my back up shirt and shoes.
The kid’s event was starting in fifteen minutes and I got to be an obstacle. The kids had to kick a ball past me and into a net. Me vs. fifty screaming tykes