Chapter 21 #2
“Well, at least he didn’t see that in person.” A muscle in his cheek flexes as he tightens his jaw.
“Want me to drive to the restaurant?”
He tosses me his keys.
“Wow. Really?”
He hates letting anyone else drive his precious Aston Martin.
“I’m too tired to care if you crash it.”
I snort. “I’m not going to crash.”
“Remember when you were seventeen?” He quirks one dark brow at me and starts for the garage exit.
“Okay, that was years ago, and it wasn’t my fault.”
“If you try to blame the kid on the bicycle again—”
“He swerved into my lane. What could I do but swerve the other way?”
“Into a stop sign.” The first hint of a real smile tugs at his lips. It’s good to see, even at my expense.
I pull into the parking lot of the resort, where we’re meeting Dad for dinner at his favorite restaurant.
“I forgot how big this place is,” I say as I navigate past the restaurant entrance, looking for a place to park.
Inside the hotel, the place is as extravagant as the grounds. The marble lobby opens up to a patio and beyond it, several pools. There’s a smaller restaurant and bar here, but Victor and I take the stairs to the second floor, where a bigger, nicer steak house and cigar bar are located.
The hostess immediately leads Victor and me to a table in the center of the restaurant.
Dad stands as we approach. He looks exactly the same.
Dark hair with only a hint of graying at the temples and a mustache that he’s been rocking since I was a kid.
He’s an inch shorter than Victor but still broad and fit.
He plays squash every weekday and has an elaborate home gym he uses regularly.
“Whitney.” My dad raises his hands to his sides and gives me an affectionate smile. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I step into him, and he gives me a quick hug. Then he pulls back and waves his hand to the empty chairs across from his seat, indicating we should sit down.
Victor and I take our places, and the hostess hands us our menus.
I give her an appreciative smile as Dad speaks to Victor.
“I saw the highlights. Looks like I didn’t miss much. Dallas trampled all over you boys tonight.”
Victor tenses, clenching the menu a little tighter in his hands. And just like that, I’m thrown back into the Aven family dynamics and launch into the peacekeeper role like I never left.
“I forgot how exciting it is to be at the games,” I say, a little too eagerly. “And I love the new hat design this year with the upside-down lettering. I tried to buy one, but they were sold out.”
“I miss the original style,” Dad says. “Classic. Traditional.”
Beside me, Victor sighs quietly enough that only I can hear.
Dad lifts the glass in front of him, vodka tonic, if I had to guess. “Did you get any points?”
“No.” Victor doesn’t look up from the menu.
“That’s the fourth game in a row.”
“I’m aware.” Victor sets his menu down and holds our father’s stern gaze. “Believe me. I’m aware.”
I forgot how hard it is to mediate between the two of them. I’m rusty at this—keeping Dad from laying into my brother and Victor from shutting down.
I’m offered a short reprieve as the server comes to take our drink orders. Victor orders a Manhattan, and I get Dr Pepper.
“I miss the fountain Dr Pepper in Texas. It doesn’t taste as good anywhere else,” I say when it’s just the three of us again. I’m desperately hoping to head off any more attempts Dad makes to talk about Victor’s season stats.
“It originated here,” Dad says, like I don’t know that, then frowns. “How is Montana?”
“Good. I’m really liking it.” My palms are starting to sweat. I knew this outfit was a mistake. “Teaching is fun and I’m enjoying coaching too. It’s nice being back out on the ice.”
“You were fun to watch.” His lips twist with an amused grin. “You tried so hard.”
Tried and failed, he means.
My smile wobbles.
“Victor says your team isn’t having any better luck than his.”
“That is not what I said,” Victor amends.
“You said they were losing, did you not?” Dad shoots him a look that begs him to argue.
“We are having a slow start, but the kids are great and we’re going to turn it around,” I say a little more confidently than I feel. “The same way I’m confident Victor and his team will.”
Dad’s brows lift as he makes a face that suggests he might not agree, but he doesn’t say otherwise. A small concession.
“Tell me about your new girlfriend,” I say, once again changing the topic. “I thought she was joining us.”
The server sets my soda down, and I can’t pick it up fast enough. The cold, sweet liquid is the best part of this dinner so far. And it’s just as good as I remembered.
Dad takes his time before answering. Whether he’s deciding how much to tell me or just doing his part to help me learn the virtue of patience, I can’t tell.
“Her name is Brenda,” he says finally. “And something came up. You’ll meet her next time.”
As painful as this dinner feels, I’m not sure there will be a next time. I think I’m good for one of these visits maybe every two years or so and Brenda likely won’t last that long.
“And she’s a pilot?”
He nods, but says nothing else before the server goes over the nightly specials and then takes our order.
I go first, then check my phone under the table. I still haven’t heard back from Conrad.
When Victor notices me scrolling, he smirks, then asks the server if he can hear the specials again.
I don’t know why he’s buying me time, but I take it to send another text to Conrad to see what he’s doing.
Hopefully, he found something more enjoyable to do tonight than sitting through an uncomfortable family dinner.
I love my family, I do, but our time together is draining. Dad is tough. He always has been. I never met his dad, my grandfather, but from the stories I’ve heard, he was a stern man with a lot of rules and expectations. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
Dad raised us alone, which I’m sure wasn’t easy. He put us in sports and told us hard work was the answer and that we should aim to be the best at whatever we did. He wanted kids he could be proud of. I suppose all parents do.
Victor and I rebelled under that pressure in our own ways.
Victor was a natural at nearly every sport he played, but since Dad loved hockey, so did he.
He craved Dad’s attention and approval. He put all his energy into hockey and in the process took on the brunt of Dad’s expectations.
As for me, when it was clear I wasn’t going to be a star hockey player, or a star athlete of any sport for that matter, I switched to focusing my attention on school and being the family mediator.
I did whatever I could to support Victor, but I’m not sure I succeeded at easing the pressure he feels to be the best.
The three of us make small talk while we wait for the food, then eat in silence. Victor orders a third drink. He’s not going to be much for company tonight. Dad has put him in a terrible mood.