Chapter 30 Scarlett #2
“That would have been good, but too late, darlin’. What say you, Frankie?”
“Well, I was actually going to say the Bee Gees.”
“Twenty-five points for the Bee Gees,” Joe says while writing 25 on the board for Frankie’s team.
“Shit on a biscuit,” Mama mutters as she sits back down.
The other team continues to score points with Jackson 5, The Beach Boys, and Jonas Brothers, but Joe doesn’t accept Kings of Leon from Owen, despite the fact that that band is formed entirely of brothers and a cousin, because Joe doesn’t like them.
When it’s time for Dylan to go up against Donna Hogan, the question is, “Name a sport that people bet on.”
Donna is holding up her phone, ready with a buzzer app, but Dylan gets to his faster.
His answer, football, gets us twenty-five points, and he decides to play.
Donna Hogan mutters, “Aww, bugger me,” but she says it right into a microphone so it’s really loud.
I get twenty points for horse racing. Mama gets fifteen for boxing. Miles says, with a straight face, “Dylan Brodie’s love life.”
“Survey says…ten points!”
Everyone laughs, but I take his hand and give it a squeeze.
“Fucking hilarious, guys,” Dylan says.
When it’s my turn to go up to the bar stool, the question is, “Name any male actor who’s played a doctor on television that is more handsome than Patrick Dempsey.”
I’m so surprised I don’t even hit the buzzer.
“There is no such man!” Bonnie Lyn calls out.
From the laptop across from me, Peter Hogan buzzes his phone app and answers, “Zach Braff!”
Joe hits the negative buzzer and says, “Absolutely not more handsome than Patrick Dempsey.”
“Well, I think he’s real cute,” Peter mumbles.
“To you, Scarlett, the lovely girlfriend of Dylan Brodie.”
“Umm…George Clooney?”
“Survey says twenty-five big ones for George Clooney—pass or play, darlin’?”
“Play?”
When I sit back down next to Dylan, he leans in and whispers, “They don’t know about your ex. It’s because Mama has a crush on Patrick Dempsey.”
I nod and squeeze his hand. It’s fine. A weird and awkward coincidence, but it’s fine.
Mama reluctantly names Adam Bryce and gets twenty points for him. I guess I should be proud.
Dylan gets fifteen points for Hugh Laurie as House and also mentions that he met him backstage on Broadway this summer. He is met with boos for that because apparently he’s a bit of a pretentious name-dropper—who knew.
It’s back to me, and the only actor I can think of is, “That really handsome guy who was married to the woman who did the voice in Frozen and it was that show that came on after Grey’s Anatomy for a few years.”
“Survey says! Taye Diggs or that guy who was married to the lady from Frozen. Ten points for Mama’s Boys and the Pretty One’s Girlfriend.”
We go through a few more rounds of questions: “If this game was called Family Freud, name the five psychosexual stages,” and “If you drew my name in a Secret Santa gift exchange—what would I exchange your gift for at the store?” When Miles and Owen are up at the bar stools, the question is: “Name five reasons Miles Brodie is still single after so many years of being divorced.”
Miles and Owen buzz in at pretty much the same time, but Joe lets Miles answer. “Because I’m married to my work.”
He gets fifteen points for that, and even though it angers him that he didn’t get more points, he decides we should keep playing.
It’s Bonnie Lyn’s turn next, and she says, “Well, obviously I absolutely love and adore that beautiful child, but I’m going to have to say because of Macy.”
Joe gives her twenty-five points for that, and Miles says, “I will not apologize for being a devoted father.”
“Let’s not use our offspring as excuses, now, sweets,” his mama says.
“Brown eyes” is Dylan’s answer.
He gets twenty points for that.
I barely know the man, but when it’s my turn, “Maybe he’s secretly got a crush on someone who’s unavailable,” is my guess.
The room goes silent for a moment, and then Joe says, “You know, I did not have that answer on my list, but I’m gonna give you ten points for that, Dr. Shepard. I think you might be onto something there.”
I glance over at Miles, who’s staring down at the floor, but he’s not denying it.
I might indeed be onto something.
For the final round, the question is “Name five personality traits the Brodie men should be hired to model for.”
Frankie hits her buzzer before Mama does, and she says, “Sarcasm.”
She gets twenty-five ironic points for that. They get points for assholery, good smellingness, great taste in women, Mama’s boysiness, but get the X for kindness, great taste in music, and acting skills, so our team gets the chance to guess the last answer.
It’s up to Miles, since he’s team leader, but we all offer up suggestions.
Mama Brodie says, “Fantastic lovemakin’ skills.”
I would concur, but I’m not quite drunk enough to say so. “Confidence.”
Dylan says, “For being so wizard.”
Miles snorts at that. “That’s not a thing.”
“He used to always say ‘you’re so wizard’ or ‘that’s so wizard’ to us.”
“He did not.”
“Yes. He did.”
Miles waves him off dismissively and calls out, “Great work ethic.”
He gets the bad buzzer for that, and it goes to the other team.
Dylan is shaking his head.
Owen’s answer is “Incredible sense of humor, obviously.”
He gets the bad buzzer too.
“Final answer on the list is…being so wizard. Congratulations to the Hoganators and Owen for scoring so many more points than the other guys it’s embarrassing. Let’s eat!”
Dylan is shaking his head even more vehemently. I put my hand on his thigh, which is supposed to mean let it go, honey.
But he doesn’t let it go.
“That was not so wizard,” he says, loud enough for Miles to hear.
“‘Being so wizard’ is not a thing,” Miles says.
“It’s a thing. I told you it was a thing. It’s a thing. All you had to do was listen to me.”
“Well, listening to you is not a thing. Let’s eat!”
Dylan stands, helps me up off the sofa. He doesn’t say anything, and I can tell he’s trying to maintain his sense of humor, but…he’s right. All Miles had to do was listen to him.
I give him a hug and whisper, “You’re so wizard.”
He rests his forehead against mine. I love it when he does this. “I am, right?”
“You are. You’re right.”
“Thank you.” He sounds so grateful, it’s almost heartbreaking.
But I’m too tipsy to worry about how easy it would be for him to break my heart now that he’s thawed it out.
When everyone else is emptying out of the family room, he lowers his voice even more and says, “I’ve never felt like anyone was on my side when I’m with my family before.”
“Dylan. I’m not saying this as a therapist. I’m saying this as an objective woman who really likes having your penis inside of her: I’m on your side, and you are clearly not the messed-up brother in this family.”
He kisses me so sweetly, and it really does feel like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve when I’m with him now.
I just wish it could stay like this forever.