i made jack take insta pictures for me before we left and glad to say that my boyfriend is now my personal photographer from now on.
"out of pure curiosity why is your parents spare car a range rover?" jack asked, while i was driving us to my parents house.
"simple reason. we have money."
"wow," he responded.
"that sounded really douchey didn't it?" i laugh.
"a bit."
"well, my parents worked hard for all they have. they're self-made, kinda. well my mom is."
"she's a first-gen italian who had a kid at 20 and still managed to become a successful interior designer. and my dad is an architect," i continued.
"i remember you told me what your parents did once in bed when we were having a conversation at night about family and stuff."
"i just remembered, i did. i find it cute that you still remember." i said, smiling.
"why would i not?" he asks.
"i don't know. you just strike me as a guy who'd forget things that aren't super important. and also because you asked me why i'm driving a range rover."
"yeah i see what you mean," he said.
•••
when we got to my house i parked in the drive way and checked myself in the mirror for a second and when i walked out of the car, jack was wearing his stupid all-black yankees hat.
"i'm not even going to ask how you brought it but hand it over now." i said, putting my hand out in front of him.
"hand what over?" he asked, confused.
"the hat." i whisper-shouted.
"what! no!"
"let me be who i am. i am who i am," he continued.
"well you can't be a yankees fan in a house full of die hard red soxs fans!"
"wait a minute. aren't you a yankees fan?" he asked.
"like a bit but i don't see why that's relevant."
"hah! well in that case, i will be wearing my hat. and if i have too, i will be rubbing it into your families face."
"if you get murdered, don't tell me i told you so." i said, giving up, locking the car and walking next to him, linking my arm with his.
"if i die tonight. just know, i will be haunting you forever." he said, looking at me.
"ha ha ha, so funny." i said with a serious face, letting go and opening the front door.
no one was in the living room or kitchen, so i assume everyone is in the backyard already.
"brooke! ah, i was thinking you weren't coming!" evie my uncle griffin's wife said, walking inside the house, instantly walking over to us and hugging me.
"hi ev," i said smiling.
"oh my god! your bump! it's more noticeable now!" i exclaimed, looking down at the woman's stomach.
"yes! he's been getting so big recently. but who's the guy?" she asked, looking at jack standing next to me.
"jack. evie right?" he said, holding his hand out for her to shake.
she shook his hand, "yes! well jack, angelina tells me you're an NHL player right?"
"yeah, for the jersey devils."
"ooh, i've heard of them. quite the career." she said, picking up a coat from the couch.
"how far along are you now?" i asked, we were all now walking outside to the patio.
"30 weeks on monday next week."
"your first?" jack asked.
"yes! suckers been making my life a living hell." she said laughing.
"brooke!" elias said, running up to me.
"hi kid." i said, bending down and giving him a hug.
"well if it isn't my favorite granddaughter!" my grandpa said, getting up from his chair and giving me a hug.
"you mean your only?"
"potato patata." he says.
"and who's the young man?" he asked.
"jack hughes, sir." jack said, putting out his hand.
my grandpa took a good look at him, looking him up and down and rolling his eyes.
"no i'm only kidding!"
"nice to meet you son." he said shortly after, shaking jack's hand.
"come let's get you guys some food, that's what we're all here for after all."
"is my existence a joke?" angelina asked.
"a bit," my grandpa said.
"thanks dad," she responded.
"well food's over here at the outdoor kitchen." grandpa said, leading the way.
"now tell me son, you play hockey right?" he continued.
"i do, sir."
"stop with the sir, it makes me feel older than i am." my grandpa laughed.
"NHL right?" my grandpa said shortly after.
"yeah, for the jersey devils." jack said.
"that's great. well you guys can help yourselves to anything." grandpa said, the catering splayed out on the outdoor kitchen counter. he was starting to walk away, but mid-step he turned around instantly and came back.
"brooke i was starting to think he was perfect until i saw the hat. a yankees fan?"
"see! i told you!" i exclaimed.
"it's just the hat, i promise." jack responded instantly.
"we need to get him a sox's hat."
"did you know we have a box at good old fenway?" my grandpa said, putting his hand on jacks back.
"we need to take him someday to experience some real baseball. none of that yankees shit. it'll change your life." my grandpa continued.
"oh yeah. for sure." i chimed in.
"next time your in boston, we'll plan something out and enjoy a beer while watching some ball. you are over twenty-one right?"
"oh yeah." jack responded.
"well glad to know my granddaughter isn't a cougar. i'll see you guys over there." my grandpa said, walking away, leaving us alone.
"a box at fenway?" jack asked.
"told you. money." i said, laughing.
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brookeadler's story