“Mm-hmm,” Indy hums. “Torturing you to get your attention because he wants to screw you.”
I stay silent on that front. Indy doesn’t even know about our interactions outside of the plane, yet she still knows the truth.
“A night in bed with God’s gift to womankind is worth the risk, I’d say.” Indy knowingly raises her eyebrows before taking another bite of her brunch. “And just so you know, figuratively speaking, if you ever did want to break the whole flight attendant/hockey player boundary thing, your secret would be safe with me.”
I give her a thankful smile, but not big enough to confirm or deny her statement.
“Figuratively, of course,” she adds before taking another bite of her food.
When I pull up to my parents’ house, twenty minutes outside of Nashville, my stomach instantly drops with nerves. I couldn’t tell you the last time I was home. Over the last few years, holidays have been a hit or miss between Ryan’s and my hectic schedules, paired with my blatant attempt to avoid this city.
“Hey, lady,” my driver says from the front seat. “I have another ride. You have to get out.” Understandably so, I’ve been sitting in the back of his car for a couple of minutes now, nervously spinning the gold ring on my thumb and contemplating bailing altogether.
“Sorry.” Inhaling a deep breath, I exit his car and smooth out my top, feeling extremely uncomfortable. And not because I’m still full from brunch, but because I chose an outfit entirely out of my comfort zone. I own a whopping one top my mother would approve of, so here I am wearing the monstrosity.
The blush pink blouse is all frills and lace but still wrinkled as shit from being in my suitcase. Yes, I’d like to ease the inevitable remarks my mother will have, but I clearly don’t care enough to worry about an iron.
My Uber driver takes off as soon as I close the car door, and I’m about two seconds away from chasing him down on foot and begging him to drive me back to my hotel.
“Vee!” my dad calls out, swinging the front door open, his arms stretched wide. “There’s my favorite daughter!”
“I’m your only daughter, Dad.” I smile, making my way to his open arms.
“That you know of,” he teases as he wraps me up in his embrace.
Man, I missed him. He’s the sweetest, but unfortunately, a visit with him comes with a visit from my mother, and that’s something I can’t handle on a regular basis.
“I love this new job of yours, bringing you home, but what in the world are you wearing?”
“Just trying to make this as painless as possible.”
He pulls away, his hands still grasping my arms, offering me an apologetic smile. My brother might not see how my mother treats me compared to him, but my dad has noticed. It’s been a tough spot for him, trying to have my back while also loving his wife, regardless of her shortcomings.
“Stevie, welcome,” my mother says as soon as I walk into the front door.
The house is spotless. The way it was growing up, when we knew visitors were coming over. Had to keep up impressions. Glad to know I’m categorized as a visitor now.
She gives me a quick and awkward embrace before eyeing me up and down, the disapproval evident on her makeup-caked features. She strokes my hair, attempting to get it to lie down in a more manageable state, but my curls spring right back up.
“Take a seat.” She motions towards the dining room table. “Would you like something to drink?”
“We have some sweet tea,” my dad chimes in with excitement. “I made it fresh this morning.”
“That’s an awful lot of sugar, Neal.”
“I’d love some, Dad. Thank you.”
My mother’s dainty, pale hands smooth her apron before ghosting the pearls around her neck, clearly trying to bite her tongue and resist saying something direct. My Southern mother would never. Bless her heart.
“How’s your brother?”
Of course, her first question would be about my twin brother and not me.
She takes a seat across from me at our dining room table, which is set with elegant place settings as if there were going to be a dinner party tonight, but I know there’s not. It’s all about making things look as pretty as possible at all times.
“He’s good. Busy with the season starting, but good.”
“Is he seeing anyone?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“He’s got time,” my mother says with the wave of her hand. “He’s only twenty-six. No need to be rushing into anything. He’s such a catch, that boy.”
My dad returns from the kitchen, placing my tea in front of me, followed by a kiss on the top of my head before taking a seat next to my mother.
“How about you, Vee,” he asks. “How are you doing? How’s the new job? How’s the shelter?”
“I’m good. The job is good. Busy schedule.” I quickly nod my head. “And I love the shelter. The owner is the kindest woman who is just really grateful for any help she can get. I wish I could be there full-time and help out. The building is pretty run-down and could use some updates, but the little money that gets donated barely covers the cost of food and medication for the dogs, let alone anything else.”
“Are you seeing anyone?” my mother interrupts.
“Um. No. Not right now. Anyway, the dogs are so sweet and so adorable, and they just want someone to love them.”
My dad is all ears as I continue my rant, pride evident in his brown eyes, clearly happy that I found something that makes me so happy. My mother, on the other hand, not so much.
“There’s this Doberman named Rosie, and she’s an absolute sweetheart, but you know, she looks a little intimidating. She’s been there so long at this point, and potential owners pass her up without giving her a second glance.”
“What about Brett?” my mother asks of my ex. “I always liked that boy. Maybe you should reach out to him and see if he’s seeing anyone.”
“Theresa,” my dad quietly scolds, trying to rein her in, but that’s not how the power dynamic in their relationship works.
“Brett is my ex for a reason.”
“Well, Stevie,” my mother not-so-innocently says. “You’re not getting any younger, darling.”
Yeah, I’m not getting any younger, but I’m also the exact same age as her son, who she just said has plenty of time.
“I saw Hannah and Jackie last night,” I avert the conversation.
“Oh, did you? How beautiful is Hannah now? I saw her mom last week at church, and did you know her little sister qualified for Miss Teen Tennessee this year? I was thinking about seeing if she wanted any of the old pageant dresses I bought for you. You know, since they’ve never been worn, and they wouldn’t fit you now anyway.”
And there it is. I was waiting for her to mention my weight or size. I’m surprised she lasted a whole twenty minutes.
“That’s a great idea,” is all I can manage to say. I’m too tired of it all at this point to play into my mother’s game. “This tea is really good, Dad.”