28. Dutton
Dutton
“ Y ou sure you don’t need help?” Ollie asks, getting in my way as I reach for the cutting board.
“Nope, I’m good,” I assure him, turning my attention to the garlic I’m chopping.
“Because I could make the salad while you work on that. I really don’t mind,” he says, reaching into the fridge and pulling out ingredients.
I sigh, but I don’t argue. And I don’t order him to get the hell out of the kitchen. That’s progress. It’s also resignation. I know from experience that Ollie won’t let up, and since he’s a pretty good cook, I don’t put up a fight.
We work in silence for a few minutes, and I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have been so reluctant to let him help.
And then he opens his mouth.
“So, how are things with Birdie?” he asks, unable to hide his smile. This guy’s the biggest gossip I’ve ever met. He’s got his nose in everybody’s business, and he actually believes he’s some kind of matchmaker.
I consider ignoring him, but since I know that won’t work, I give in and answer. “Good.”
He waits for me to elaborate, and when I don’t, he sputters, “Good? That’s it?”
“Really good,” I amend.
“You’re killing me here,” Ollie says, shaking his head.
“Why? Because I’m usually so chatty and you can’t figure out why I’m not gushing about my love life?
” I ask, but the poor guy looks so damn wounded that I give in and gush a little.
. Dammit. I’m getting soft. “Things are great. Bridgette’s incredible.
She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m going to my fucking best every damn day to show her just how much she means to me. ”
“Damn right you are,” Mickey says as he walks into the room and starts opening cupboards. “When’s dinner gonna be ready? I’m starving.”
I check the timer on the oven. “Ten minutes.”
“Cool,” he answers, nodding as he reaches for a box of crackers. He’s tossing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. I don’t even bother to tell him he’s ruining his appetite. The guy’s a bottomless pit.
I also don’t bother mentioning the crumbs he’s leaving all over the counter and the floor, or the fact that his shirt’s on backwards.
Not so long ago, those things would have annoyed the shit out of me, but after watching Bridgette’s family dynamic in action, things shifted between us.
I’m not sure how much he loves the idea of me dating Bridgette, but he wants what’s best for her, just like I do, and that’s the most important thing.
When we all sit down to dinner a little while later, I eat my meal while the guys chatter all around me.
I catch a fair amount of shit for being antisocial, but there’s so much noise in this room, and there are at least three full, separate conversations going on, so if I ever did develop a sparkling personality, I’d just be adding to the chaos.
No thanks. I’m happy eating my food and keeping to myself.
Until Blue drags me into the fray.
“Are we heading home?” he asks me, and though I understand the words, I have no clue what they mean.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, shoveling a bite of chicken into my mouth.
“Thanksgiving, dumbass. My folks are on a cruise, so are we heading home to Mama and Papa Wagner’s for a turkey feast, or do you feel like sticking around campus? The guys said that Coach does dinner at his house and we’re all invited, especially since Friday’s a travel day.”
“My mom’s doing dinner around noon. You know she’ll be offended if you don’t come.
” My mom is insisting on doing a big dinner on Thursday, even though my aunts all volunteered to help.
My mom loves this kind of stuff, so she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
It’s been a tough few months for my family, but things are looking up.
The doctors are all being cautious about my dad while they wait for more test results to come in, but I know my dad, and he seemed a lot more like himself when I stopped by for breakfast the other day. He’s bouncing back; I know it.
Blue grins. “I don’t mind pissing you off, but I will never knowingly upset Mama Wagner. Tell her I’m in.”
“Coach doesn’t serve dinner until later, so you guys should stop by on your way back into town,” Ollie says, living up to his self-professed title of cruise director.
I make a noncommittal grunt and then pull out my phone.
If I’ve got to do a day of holiday festivities, I want Bridgette by my side.
I should have probably asked her a while ago, and I won’t blame her if she’s pissed at me for waiting til the last minute, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
I want her to meet my parents, and my cousins, and the rest of my family.
Bridgette means everything to me, and I don’t want her to doubt that for a minute.