“Did you have fun last night?” Indy asks before inhaling her plate of vegetarian biscuits and gravy.
“Uh…” I hesitate. “It was definitely interesting. I’ll say that.”
I match her massive bite, filling my mouth with all the carbs I can manage from my favorite local spot in my hometown. Every item on the brunch menu is to die for, and it’s a must anytime I’m back in Nashville.
I’m sure I’ll be regretting this meal when I’m visiting with my mother in a few hours and have to unbutton my jeans in order to sit down and breathe, but it’ll be worth it.
“What was interesting about it?”
Hmm. Let me think. Maybe that Evan Zanders, walking sex ad, told me he wants to fuck me. Right after he saved me from my inconsiderate high school friends who haven’t stopped blowing me up since his little PDA stunt last night.
Or maybe how he pinned me to the wall with his massive body, the bulge in his pants doing all sorts of things to me when it was pressed against the apex of my thighs.
Or how all of a sudden, this sweet side came out of the self-proclaimed “bad boy of Chicago,” when he insisted on walking me back to my hotel.
Interesting might not be the right word for last night. Confusing?
Thrilling? Shocking?
I would love to spill all the details to Indy, seeing as I’ve been a ball of emotions since, but we’re coworkers, and the accidental interaction Zanders and I had last night is a fire-able offense.
“Seeing my old high school friends was interesting. They’re not the nicest, and I think last night was the closure I needed on our friendship.”
“Really?” Indy uses her napkin to wipe the edges of her lips. “That sucks, Stevie. You don’t deserve friends like that.”
“All good.” I shrug it off because it is all good. I’ve needed to cut ties with Hannah and Jackie for a while, and their blatant comments that they assumed were backhanded were my final straw. In the back of my mind, I always knew they kept me around as a connection to my brother. I just didn’t expect it to continue in a different capacity because of my new job. Ryan would be pissed if he knew about it. Which is precisely why I’ll keep that to myself, as I do most things my brother would get upset over.
“How was your night?” I ask.
“It was pretty uneventful. I wanted to go out, but I’m still new to this whole private charter thing, and I’m not going to lie, that speech Tara gave us about fraternization was terrifying. I figured locking myself in my hotel room was a safe bet.”
My stomach drops at the thought of Tara’s constant warnings and badgering about staying away from our clients when we’re off the clock. Clearly, I’m not doing a great job of that, no matter how accidental my run- ins with Zanders have been.
“Do you happen to know what Tara did last night?” I cautiously ask, looking down at my plate, and nervously pushing my food around. What if she was out last night? What if she saw me last night? What if she saw us last night?
This morning, I scoured the internet for any sign of a leaked photo of Zanders and me outside the bar, but his PR team certainly did their jobs, cleaning up any possible evidence of our interaction.
“Probably doing the exact thing she told us not to do. I’d bet money she was running around looking for the guys from the team last night, acting desperate as hell.”
My eyes dart up from my plate, amusement sweeping across my features as I look at Indy’s wide eyes and gaping mouth.
“Oh fuck.” She quickly slaps her palm over her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”
A moment of silence falls between us as we look to each other, testing the waters, unsure of where we each stand on the topic of our coworker. Until finally, I double over on my side of the booth, laughing my ass off.
Eventually, Indy joins in, both of us silent due to how hard we are cracking up right now.
“She’s such a hypocrite.” I wipe away the tear that’s pooled at the corner of my eye.
“Oh my God,” Indy sighs in relief. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page because I’ve wanted to ask you for weeks.”
“She’s worried about us fraternizing with the players, but she’s so thirsty when she’s in the aisles talking to them, doing the exact thing she told us not to.” I smile, thoroughly enjoying the boost of serotonin from that laugh attack. “But regardless, it’s not worth the risk of losing our jobs.”
“Is it not?” Indy questions, cocking her head to the side. “I think I might put my job on the line for a night in the sack with one of those hockey boys.”
I eye her for a moment, wondering if she knows something I’m not ready for her to know yet. Or maybe ever.
“Figuratively, of course.” She points to herself. “Loving boyfriend and all that.”
“Of course.”
Indy has made it clear over the past few weeks how she’s in it for the long haul with her live-in boyfriend, Alex. She’ll constantly joke about the temperature rising when the hockey boys start stripping on the airplane or how she’d risk her job for a single night with one of them. But from what I know of her relationship, she loves Alex way too much to risk him.
“But if I were single and a certain alternate captain for a certain hockey team from Chicago who just happened to ooze sex appeal continually hit on me, I might risk my job for that.” Indy suggestively looks up at me from across our booth.
“Zanders is not hitting on me when he constantly rings the call light.
He’s just torturing me.”
“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.”
Looking over to him, his brown skin pinches between his brows as he shoots me an apologetic smile.
“Glad you came to see us, Vee,” he says. “You probably have to get going, though. You have work soon, right? Headed to Philly tonight, yeah?”
My dad is the best, trying to give me an out from this visit. My showtime for work is still hours away, but I need to get out of this house.
“Yeah, I should get going.” I stand from my seat as my parents do the same.
“Stevie, darling. Brush your hair before work, please.” My mother quickly and awkwardly hugs me goodbye.
You don’t brush curly hair, is what I want to say. Because how dare my hair be big and bold instead of smooth and styled like hers.
“Will do,” is my answer instead. It’s just not worth it.
“You look beautiful, Vee,” my dad reassures, holding on extra tight. “And I’m so proud of you and everything you’re doing with work and volunteering. I’m so happy you found something you love so much.”
“Thank you, Dad.”
He eyes my mother before looking back at me. “Let me walk you out.” He swings his arm over my shoulder as I order a ride back to my hotel from my phone. As soon as we’re outside and the door is closed, he turns towards me. “Don’t listen to her, honey.”
“How can I not? It’s constant. She doesn’t let up.” “I’ll talk to her.”
“What good is that going to do? You’ve talked to her for years, and she’s still like this. There is nothing I can do to make her happy!”
“You know how she is, Vee.”
“Yeah, Dad, I do. But that’s not a good enough excuse anymore.” My car pulls up just in time, so I give him another quick hug goodbye. “Love you,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk down the walkway to my car in frustration.
“I love you, my beautiful daughter,” he adds just as I get inside.
I offer him a small wave as my car drives away from the house I never want to visit again.
