Page 79 of The Sweet Spot

We made sure to leave the kitchen well stocked

for you and the boys. Eat well and have fun!

Don’t burn down the house.

Xo,

Mom

“What’s the plan for tonight?” asks Kellan, sliding me a Coors Light.

I give the beer a serious side-eye. Coors Light?Really?With the abundance of local craft breweries crowding the entire West Coast?

Kellan notices, sighing. “I know man. My dad loves this shit…I told himhe was a sorry excuse for Irishmen everywhere.”

“Hey now, don’t hate on Pops!” Matt drinks his beer in one long gulp, belching long and hard. “He might have questionable taste in beer, but the man knows his whiskey.”

“That’s true,” I agree, pointing my bottle at Kellan. “Remember that stuff he brought out last time? After dinner?”

Kellan nods. “The eighteen-year-old Jameson’s. He has another bottle down in the cellar, I think.”

“That’s okay.” I snort, opening an enormous bag of salt n’ vinegar potato chips. “I don’t have the $150 to replace it.”

“Me neither,” Matt says. “Let’s stick to the cheap stuff. But not this cheap.” He holds up his Coors.

“He doesn’t have anything cheap down there,” says Kellan. “But he has a good selection. Seriously, he doesn’t care if we drink some of it.”

“Twist my arm, why dontcha?” Matt’s voice fades as he disappears down the hall, probably already heading to the wine cellar, affectionately known around here as the drunk tank.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer me,” says Kellan. “What’s up for tonight? You seeing Wren later?”

“Yeah, we’re having dinner with her parents.”

“Both of them? At the same time?”

I nod, sipping my beer. Kellan knows the basics—that Wren’s only met herfather a couple of times—but I’ve kept the details private. Wren might not be the only one whose mom chose the path she did, and it’s nothing to feel weird about, but I respect that it’s hers to share.

Kellan pushes his hair from his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

“When’re you gonna cut that?” I tease, jerking my chin at him. “You going for the SoCal surfer look?”

“Yeah, I’m takin’ it back to my parents’ generation,” he says, giving his hair a flamboyant flip. “And look who’s talking, Mr. ManBun LaDouche.”

I laugh long and hard at that one. “Girls love it, and my dad hates it. I’ll never cut this shit.”

Snickering, he returns to the burgers he’s started defrosting. “What time are you meeting the parentals?”

“I’m picking Wren up at six, and then we’ll head over to Marvel to meet her parents for dinner.”

“Good choice,” he says, tapping the counter. “Their pizza is on another level.”

“That’s what I hear.” I stroll over to the windows overlooking the pool. I’m definitely a little nervous. Wren, who I’m starting to see has somewhat rose-colored leanings, seems confident that we’ll all just love each other, but that’s what worries me. Connections. Complications.

I don’t want to hurt Wren, but what if I take Pai up on his offer to join him in São Paulo? The last thing I need is a spot onhermom’s shitlist. Or herdad’s.

“Hey, you doing okay?” asks Kellan.

I turn, guilty I haven’t been listening. “Yeah. Just thinking about Wren. This is important to her, you know?”

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