“Please, Blake, I insist you call me Vivian.” She turned her attention to Ryan. “So, Ryan, are you in the pre-med program at Drexler as well? Please excuse me. My daughter tells me absolutely nothing.”
I don’t tell you things for a reason. Namely situations exactly like this. I squeezed Ryan’s hand, trying to convey with every fiber of my being that I was so sorry for subjecting him to this dinner. I should have just gone with Blake and Payton and endured it alone. But being with Ryan calmed me down, taking the situation from DEFCON 1 to DEFCON 5.
“No, I’ve been friends with Blake and Payton since we were kids and I met Jules through work.”
She tilted her head. Oh great. She wouldn’t be impressed we worked together. I knew her exact thought process—minimum wage, not in med school, no trust fund with money to throw around. All things I gave zero fucks about. “So, you’re coworkers.” And we were on to her next train of thought—inappropriate work relations. Which was absolutely correct, but none of her fricken business.
Ryan cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes, we are.”
“Interesting. What are you going to college for?”
Really? Why was this turning into an interrogation session while my friends were here? I laced my fingers in his, hoping that he didn’t want to call it quits after a couple hours with my mom. Only getting to call him my boyfriend for two hours would majorly suck—and beat my previous shortest dating record by fifty-nine minutes, when I was boyfriend/girlfriend with Brooks Anderson for three classes in seventh grade.
“I’m actually not in college right now. I’m going to be joining the police academy at the end of the summer.”
My mother picked up a chip and swirled it in a mortar of guac. “Oh, right. How nice. Probably for the best. Office supply stores are a dead end.”
Ryan sucked in his cheeks and looked down at his plate. “My dad owns the store. I’d hardly say it’s a dead end.” This was the first time I’d ever heard him defend his dad. Impressive, even my mom could make Ryan’s least favorite person redeemable. Go Mom.
I shot her a look, pleading. Please, Mom, don’t embarrass me anymore.
“Right. Of course.” Mom blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “What made you want to be a police officer?”
I ran my hand nervously down my leg. She was going to scare him off, I just knew it. “Mom. I don’t think Ryan needs to be treated like he’s in a police interrogation.”
“I’m just trying to get to know your boyfriend a little better, since my own daughter won’t tell me.” She leveled me with a glare, her cold, blue eyes sending a chill down my spine.
Ryan took a bite of chip with salsa and chewed, seeming to mull over the question. “Dating was a recent change for us, Dr. Carmichael. I was just telling Jules I’d love to meet both you and the other Dr. Carmichael. And to answer your question, I want to help people in need.”
But it’s not what you want to do, I wanted to scream. He was faking it, I was faking it. I was done living a lie, though. Dammit, I was going to work with athletes, even if it meant burning bridges with my disapproving parents.
“Like Juliette.”
“You don’t know a thing about me, Mom,” I muttered.
Apparently a little too loud, because my mom said, “Excuse me?”
Everyone looked at me like I’d said I snorted a line of cocaine off my plate. “Being a doctor is what you want me to be. You’ve done nothing but force me into something I don’t want to do.”
Mom wrung a napkin in her hands, the paper flaking apart. “We’ve discussed this before. Your little athletic training hobby isn’t a career. I didn’t pay a year’s salary just to have you graduate and be jobless.”
“There are a lot of jobs out there, Mom. Sure, it doesn’t pay as much as being a doctor, but—” I tried to keep my voice neutral, professional, the way she’d talk to her patients. Even so, I couldn’t look her directly in the eye.
She crushed a chip with her thumb, the pieces crumbling over the blue floral pattern of her plate. “End of discussion.”
I stared at my fingers as I traced over the lines of my plate, pushing back tears. No use arguing with her—she’d never support me if I pursued athletic training. Plus, I didn’t want to fight in front of my friends. “Okay.”
The waiter arrived with our food, just in time to break up this awkward family moment. Why did I even try? I knew things would never change, no matter how many times I told my mom I didn’t want to be a doctor.
After spending the rest of the meal eating in uncomfortable silence punctuated by terse questions about school, we made our way back to the apartment.
Mom grabbed Caesar and checked into her hotel. Ryan followed me into my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
I turned away, fighting the tears that had been building up the whole night, ready to be released. “Will you spend the night?” My voice shook, and I could feel myself falling apart around the edges.