Brody's Girl

26: Wing-Mom

The door chime and Mom's hyena laughs faded under Paige's lighter version. High and sweet in my ears, her laughs were pure happiness. I'd never heard her laugh like that, free and open.

If only it wasn't at my expense.

"Brody!" Mom waved me over and pinched her nose when I sat. "Cheese and rice! Can you please drive with the windows down if you aren't going to shower after practice? At least consider deodorant for your girlfriend's sake."

Girlfriend. I groaned at her obvious wink. Was this normal Mom teasing, or was she in on the fake part? Paige's tiny smile behind her hand was no help.

"Paige is an absolute dream," Mom cooed with heart eyes at Paige. "Why did you hide her this long from meeting me?"

I opened my mouth for the obvious answer: a mirror.

"I'd like to know the same question." A short, overweight, bald man gave me a murderous look. He stood at the counter, crossing his arms over a black apron.

Sweating for another reason, I shot onto my feet. Three wipes of my palms on my performance shorts weren't enough, but I extended a sweaty hand. "Mr. Hart."

"Brody, I assume." He squeezed my hand tight and forced a gesture that was less of a smile and more of a, 'Touch her, and I will kill you' vibe. With a drag of his eyes over my appearance, he shook his head. "You are a football player."

"And baseball." His frown deepened. I wasn't winning any points here. Run interference, Brody. "Look, uhh...I just want you to know that I don't have any intentions of—"

"Stop talking, Brody." Mom patted the seat next to her. "Paige explained everything, so sit your dumb butt down."

She...did? She did, yet her dad looked at me as if I had bad intentions. Could one of them explain why?

The urge to crawl under the table was tempting, except I wouldn't fit. Paige's smile turned wistful, and her eyes dropped to encourage me to sit, so I plopped down with a sigh.

"I was telling Paige here about your U-Dub tryouts." Mom patted my hand. I wasn't aware that I had any, but sure. "Did you know Paige wants to attend Stanford to become a doctor?"

Doctor yes, Stanford no, but I couldn't look at Paige. We were busted, so was our arrangement over? "Yeah."

"So, I invited her family to come when you try out."

Mom had lost her mind. I wasn't the most open communicator, but what the fuck prompted her to ask? "To Seattle?"

"Stanford." She rolled her eyes. "All of us could make a recruiting visit. Since you and Paige are such good friends."

"Stanford," I mumbled. The school's baseball and football programs were at the top of my in-state school list, but I never considered going with someone I knew. I hadn't considered anything past getting into college and making school easier for Paige before then.

"Back up." I frowned at Mom's beaming smile. "You said Paige explained—"

Did everything include why Paige's dad still looked like he wanted me buried six feet under? No matter where he worked in the bakery, his glare found me.

"Don't worry." Mom patted my cheek. "I'll explain at home."

We ate the strangest dinner at the bakery. The food was fine, but the casual conversation—too casual—dried my taste buds. Paige's family and Mom spoke like old friends. Paige was in on whatever the fuck happened, but I squirmed in my seat so much that Mom asked at one point if I had to use the bathroom.

What I wanted was to pull Paige aside and ask, 'What the fuck?' but her parents sandwiched her in. Paige looked a little like her mom, with the same small, straight nose, round cheeks, and narrow chin, and her sister more resembled their dad except for blonde hair versus none. They were all nice, but they'd all come to some unspoken agreement.