Page 102 of The Main Event

“The drinks here are divine, and we all have our favorites,” Rosie agreed.

“Wait … does everybody get cocktails?” Jax glanced between faces, grinning when they nodded. “Can I guess?”

“Give it a shot,” Dad said. “I’ll be curious what you come up with.”

“Okay.” Jax rubbed his hands together as he read the drink menu. “So, Rosie goes for the Jekyll & Gin. You look like a gin woman.”

“That’s pretty good,” Rosie said on a laugh.

“Plus, you like to pretend you’re tough to protect those you love, but you’re also a marshmallow on the inside,” Jax added. “You have two sides, so you want a two-sided drink.”

If I wasn’t a hundred percent positive that Rosie was in love with my mother, I would’ve been convinced that she’d fallen for him right there. “You are so insightful,” she enthused.

Jax grinned and then looked at my mother. He narrowed his eyes and then read the menu again. “You like sweet drinks and you’re the type to say you’re only getting one, but you’ll get two. That means it has to be something that’s not too sweet, because I’m guessing you don’t mix liquor.” He made a humming noise. “Nightmare on Essex Street,” he announced.

Mom, who had been giving him nothing, looked flat out astonished. “How did you know that?”

“I don’t know. It’s a game I’ve always played. Well, since I was thirteen and was allowed to hang around when my parents were having cocktail parties. Allowed might not be the right word, though. It’s more like I was forced to be a presence at those parties.”

“It’s a pretty neat parlor trick,” Dad said. “You still have me, though, and I guarantee you won’t peg me.”

Jax didn’t look worried. “You’re going to defy expectations. A man in your position would normally get something like bourbon on the rocks or a draft ale, but you’re happy not fitting into a mold. Your family doesn’t, and you embraced that, so why should your drink choices be staid?”

“Oh, I think he’s got you, Joe,” Mom crowed.

“No way.” Dad emphatically shook his head. “There’s no way he’s going to nail it.”

“You’re going with the Salem Witch,” Jax volunteered. “I think you ordered it once when Daisy was a teenager to make her laugh, and now you stick with it because when you drink it, she smiles, and that’s all you care about.”

My father, who was never one to break character when it came to playing a part, looked as if he was near tears. “Did Daisy tell you that before you showed up or something?”

Jax shook his head. “I promise we did not talk about cocktails.”

“Is he right?” I asked. I was near tears myself, and I didn’t even understand why. “Do you always order the Salem Witch because it makes me laugh?”

“It’s good,” Dad assured me. “It’s a perfectly fine drink.”

“But?” I prodded.

“But… I wouldn’t mind trying something else out occasionally.” He was sheepish as he held out his hands. “I’m fine with my regular, though.”

“I think you should try Satan’s Cider,” Jax offered. “That’s what I’m having. Live a little.”

Dad chuckled. “Maybe I will.” He sent me an encouraging smile as I worked overtime to regroup.

“Dinner is on me tonight,” Jax said, waving off the myriad of protests that bubbled up. “Let’s go big on appetizers. I’m thinking the wings—because those sound divine—and the mussels. Anybody want to add anything else to the appetizers?”

“The wings are my favorite,” Mom enthused.

“And you’re getting the Mediterranean Linguini with shrimp,” Jax deduced as he slid a glance toward me.

How in the hell… “Seriously, are you suddenly psychic?” I demanded.

He laughed. “I just pay attention to details.”

“Well, I know you, too,” I said. “You’re getting the steak. You love red meat.”

“I do love red meat, but I was actually thinking of getting the haddock.”

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