Page 62 of The Sweet Spot

“It had some issues.”

“What issues?” he asked. At least, he seemed interested in the answer, but probably for all the wrong reasons. I put a smile on my face and decided I’d own what happened. They’d find out eventually.

“I had a vegetarian restaurant, and my sous chef was using meat products in some of the dishes. I found out and fired him.”

“He probably did it so it wouldn’t taste like mushroom gravy,” Peter said, chuckling at his little joke.

“What he was doing got out,” I said, ignoring him. “And it pretty much ruined the business.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Susan said with a fake frown. Was nothing genuine about her? “I imagine it’s hard to run a vegetarian business. Soniche.”

“Vegetarians make up about five percent of the population. We were busy every night until what happened came out.”

“I just can’t imagine not eating eggs, cheese, and milk,” she said, aghast.

“Vegetarians can eat those things. You’re thinking of a vegan.”

I really was trying hard. I kept smiling and being as kind aspossible. I figured if I did that, they would eventually realize I was a good person deserving of their son. Right?

Wrong.

“My mistake,” Susan said. She looked over to Peter, who rolled his eyes again.

“At least this bread is good,” Peter said.

They weren’t going to break me, but I couldn’t imagine how Brandon grew up in this environment and came out relatively unscathed if you could call being insular as unscathed.

“How about we say something nice for a change?” Brandon said.

“The ham is good. A bit dry,” Susan said.

Brandon laughed sarcastically. “Try again, okay?”

“It really is a lovely meal for someone who doesn’t cook meat.”

“One more time, Mom. You’re almost there,” Brandon said, his voice rising just a little.

“Oh, Brandon. Stop. The food is fine. It’s just not what we would normally eat.”

He laughed outright now. “You don’t eat ham, potatoes, gravy, carrots, and salad?”

“Your father hates green beans, and you know that.”

“This meal isn’t about just him.”

I waved my hands in the air to make them stop. “It’s fine. It’s all good. Not everyone has to like my food.”

“Or your hair,” Peter muttered.

Brandon froze and turned his gaze from his mother to his father. Peter kept his head down, eating away, oblivious to Brandon’s murderous stare.

“Did you say something, Dad?”

Peter looked up and shrugged. “The hair is stupid. Attention-seeking.”

“Who cares? How does it affectyourlife?”

“This is a joke, right? This whole thing? You’re just trying to piss me and your mother off. Did you hire her to play your girlfriend for the weekend because there is no way this broad is your girlfriend? Does she even like men? I’m pretty sure she’s a?—”

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