26. Jameson
Chapter twenty-six
Jameson
I swing open the door to my parents’ house at nine on Thanksgiving morning. Bryn couldn’t catch a flight from California to Ohio after work last night, so she flew in early this morning. I offered to pick her up from the airport, but she insisted on Ubering so I could spend more time with my family.
Seeing her standing there with a bottle of wine in one hand, I’m hit with just how much I’ve missed her. The smile that lights up her face when she sees me makes me think maybe she has missed me too. She looks gorgeous in a sweater dress that hugs her body, emphasizing her athletic figure. A deep V down the middle emphasizes her full chest, and it takes effort to pull my gaze away.
“Hey, B. You look great today.” I pull her into a quick hug complete with a forehead kiss before grabbing the bottle of wine out of her grip and sliding my hand into its place.
She tightens her hold on my hand as I move us toward the sounds of the kitchen. “Thanks for inviting me. I really appreciate it,” she says, though her voice carries a note of worry.
I stop in the hallway just before the kitchen. “Are you okay?”
“Just nervous about meeting your family.”
Pulling her into another hug, I reassure her quietly, “They’re going to love you. Lila already does. She was pumped when I told her you were coming.”
“I just know how much their opinion of me means to you.” She looks up at me, her face creased in concern. “I’m worried I’m going to mess it up. I’m more of an acquired taste for a lot of people.”
“Jameson!” My mother’s voice carries from in the kitchen. “Is that Bryn?”
I give Bryn a playful nudge. “Showtime.”
As we turn the corner to my parents’ kitchen, I watch Bryn take in everything. My mom, wearing a bright red apron over her sweater and dark jeans, measuring ingredients into her big mixer. My dad, dressed in a button-up and jeans, posted up at the end of the long white island, helping skin potatoes. The long dining room table is decorated with a fall-themed tablecloth and a centerpiece of orange and red flowers coming out of a pumpkin.
When I first started winning big in the pros, I tried to buy my parents a new house. They refused. A couple of years later, when I bought my place in Florida, I offered to buy them a second home next to me so we could see each other more. My mom suggested I could fly to Ohio if I wanted to see them more. Then, two Christmases ago, after getting off yet another call with my dad complaining about how long it was taking the plumber to fix yet another broken appliance, I renovated their kitchen for them. Learning from my past mistakes, I had already paid for the kitchen by the time I told them, so there was no way for them to tell me no.
“Mom, Dad, this is Bryn.”
She smiles nervously, giving them a small wave as my dad goes to stand up. “Oh, no need to get up. It’s nice to meet you both.”
My dad, of course, doesn’t listen, and, pulling Bryn into a hug, says, “We are so glad you could make it.”
Mom doesn’t leave whatever she’s mixing but offers Bryn a large, genuine smile instead. “So nice to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you”—she shoots me a stern look—“from Lila.”
Bryn chuckles as Lila yells from upstairs, “I still maintain you’re way too good for him!” We can hear her feet pound down the steps, and suddenly, she’s in the kitchen too.
“Wow, Lila, you look great. Those boots are…well, let’s just say there’s no chance I would ever be able to walk in those,” Bryn compliments Lila, drawing the rest of our attention to her black dress and some sort of break-your-ankle heeled boots.
Mom, Dad, and I share a confused look before Dad asks, “What are you so dressed up for, sweetheart?”
She looks down at herself, the color rising in her cheeks. “Just didn’t want Bryn to feel overdressed.” We all look at Bryn now, her casual sweater dress and short little boot things. It’s nothing compared to Lila’s outfit.
“Ahh…” Bryn looks between us all. “Well, thanks. That’s super nice of you. I do hate being overdressed. Or underdressed. I basically forced Jameo to show me pictures of all the Thanksgivings he had on his phone so that I could decide what to wear.”
We stand there in awkward silence for a moment before it’s broken up by the doorbell.
“Honey, that should be JT,” my mom says. “Can you go get the door?”
I look at Bryn, unsure if I should leave her alone, but she just smiles, indicating with her head that I should go. As I leave the kitchen, I hear her turn on the sink to wash her hands and then ask my mom, “What can I do to help, Mrs. Walker?”
Pulling open the door for the second time this morning, I smile at my old friend. “Hey, man. How was the flight in?”
“Fucking brutal. Remind me again why we do this in Ohio.” JT rubs his hands together, a California boy through and through.
I grab his jacket, throw it onto the coat rack, and smugly mention, “You know, Bryn didn’t even wear a coat. Some people don’t think midfifties is that cold.”
He stares down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Is Lila home?”
“Um, yes. Have you ever known Lila to miss a family Thanksgiving?”
“Right.” He clears his throat. “Yup. That makes sense.”
“Why are you being so weird right now? Is this about Bryn being here? You know I trust her. You don’t have to be ‘on’ today just because she’s around,” I reassure him as we walk toward the kitchen.
“Right. Of course. I’m not worried a—” He cuts off, staring at my sister as she stands at the island, helping my dad with the potatoes.
“I know. Completely ridiculous outfit to wear today. She claims she didn’t want Bryn to feel overdressed.” I roll my eyes, making my way over to Bryn, who is helping shape the bread dough into crescent shapes for the dinner rolls.
Coming up behind her, I lean my head over her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist.
“Did you just smell me?”
“Shhh…” I whisper into her ear. “I’m just making sure you don’t stink after that plane ride.”
She shoves me away, and I throw up my hands, a huge smile plastered on my face. “I’m trying to help , Bryn!”
“Go away, you pest.” My mom flings a dish towel at me before moving to the other side of the island and pulling JT into a hug.
Bryn watches JT, a smile that I will later have to remember to ask her about pulling at her lips.
The whirlwind that is preparing Thanksgiving dinner ramps up, JT and I setting the table and helping mash the potatoes, Bryn and Lila chatting while decorating sugar cookies for dessert, and all the while, my dad pouring generous glasses of wine for everyone.
By the time we sit down to eat hours later, we are all buzzed. My parents are each at one of the heads of the table, with Bryn and I on one side, and Lila and JT on the other.
“JT, move your fucking arm. Jesus, Bryn’s not going to be invited back if it means I have to sit next to this giant oaf. What happened to the second table we had out last year?” Lila asks.
“Just because you’re the size of a five-year-old doesn’t make me a giant, pipsqueak.”
“I’m five foot four, you baboon. The average five-year-old is like four feet tall. How you ever graduated from Cal State is truly beyond me. Do they just hand out degrees? We all know it can’t be because they give golfers special treatment like the real athletes.”
I glare at my sister across the table. “Nice. Why don’t you keep me out of your little lovers’ spat that you have going on.”
Both their faces turn bright red, but Bryn cuts in before either can yell at me for that last little jab. “Were there more people here last year if you needed two tables?”
“Yeah, where is everyone this year?” JT asks.
My mom shakes her head. “Oh, my brother Mark moved to Arizona this past winter, and my sister Karen and her kids are at her husband’s family’s place in Michigan.”
“We’re glad you’re here, though, Bryn,” my dad offers from the end of the table. “It’s great to actually have one of Jameson’s girlfriends join for a family event.” He coughs then, clearly catching the glare his wife is sending his way. “Lori, could you pass me the potatoes, please? That gravy is delicious.”
As my mom hands the dish down our side of the table, I catch Bryn glancing between Lila and JT, clearly unfazed by my dad’s comment. “What?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing.” She offers me a smile before turning to my mom. “The turkey is delicious, Mrs. Walker.”
“Thank you. I’ve never been a huge turkey fan, but I feel it’s a necessary part of the Thanksgiving tradition,” my mom replies before asking, “Have you heard from your family? How are they enjoying their trip? And, remind me, you have two sisters, right?”
“Yep. Ye s . I’m the youngest of three girls, which likely explains why my dad is going bald. I talked to them during my ride from the airport, and they are having a great time. My mom is in love with the little Highland cows over there, and my dad and sisters are essentially drinking their way through the country between the distilleries and pubs.”
I jump in, “B, show my mom the picture of the cow and her calf that your mom sent you. She’ll love it.”
Mom smiles sweetly, clearly pleased that I know this information even though I haven’t been in the same town as Bryn since Vegas. She takes the phone Bryn offers her, chuckling at the fuzzy momma cow and baby on the screen.
“They are adorable. I remember when Jameson convinced us to go to Scotland with him for some tournament a few years ago. Steve and I rented a car and drove up to the Highlands. It was a magical place; it almost made me believe in things like fairies and the Loch Ness monster.”
“If you go with him to Scotland this year, Bryn, you should definitely make the drive,” my dad says from the end of the table.
Bryn’s face turns red. “Oh, um, I’m not sure if…but yeah…if that…” She looks at me, her eyes beseeching me to say something.
Unsure what to do to help the awkward situation my dad unknowingly just put us in, I jump in anyway. “That tournament isn’t until next summer, Dad. Plus, I’m sure it would be difficult for Bryn to take that much time away from her job.”
“What is it you do again?” JT thankfully asks. “Something with technology, right?”
Lila rolls her eyes, but Bryn shoots him a grateful smile before answering, “Yup. I’m the director of technology for Hungry Guy.”
I finish the food on my plate and reach my hand over, resting it on Bryn’s thigh as my mom says, “I love Hungry Guy. I must admit, I’m not sure I understand what your job is, though it sounds important.”
Bryn slides her hand into mine, our fingers lacing before she replies, “It sounds more important than it is. I’m the person who is in charge of making sure everything, from our app to our back-end customer management system, is working correctly and everything is talking to each other.”
Just then, my phone starts ringing. I pull it out of my pocket, planning to decline the call, but notice it’s Jon, my agent. It’s not like him to call on holidays unless it’s something urgent.
“It’s Jon,” I say to the table. “I’ll take this and be right back.”
I slide into my parents’ office, shutting the door behind me as I answer the phone. “Hey, Jon. What’s up?”
“Jameson. Happy Thanksgiving, man. Sorry to disturb your home time, but I had some exciting news that is very time sensitive. Erica and her team have finally gotten a deal offer for you.”
I raise my fist in silent victory, unable to contain how excited I am to be turning my life around.
“Now, they came in with a real lowball offer, but both Erica and I think it’s something you should take. I know your game is coming around, but we’re both worried that, if you don’t start getting your face back out there, it won’t matter how well you play this year; it’ll be lost in terms of sponsorships.”
“Okay, I hear you. I don’t love taking lowball deals when they still take the same amount of my time, but I hear you. We’ve got to start somewhere. What is it?” I ask.
“Well, this is where things get a bit more complicated due to your relationship with Bryn.”
Jon and Erica had been annoyed when I told them Bryn was my girlfriend. They saw the logic in us moving straight into officially dating, but both made it clear they felt not dating at all would’ve been the better answer. I think they are starting to come around after my performance in Vegas.
“What do you mean? What does Bryn have to do with it?”
“It’s Hungry Guy. They want you to be part of a big commercial campaign they are pushing out in conjunction with some update to their online ordering system.”
Bryn. That’s what Bryn is working on all the time. This is Bryn’s big project. The one that, if it does well, she’ll get the promotion she’s been vying for for years.
“Jameson?” Jon asks in a tone that makes it clear it’s not the first time he’s tried to pull me back into the conversation.
“Yeah.” I run my hands through my hair. “She’s mentioned it before.”
“Well, they seem convinced that you’ll take this lowball offer. That could just be because they follow the news and know you’re not in high demand right now, but…I feel I need to ask, has Bryn mentioned it to you? Tried to talk to you about it, even casually?”
“No. She hasn’t mentioned anything about me working on it. I need…fuck. I need to talk to Bryn.”
“Okay, Jameo. But don’t take too long. It is a time-bound offer.”