Page 70 of Now That We Don't Talk

“It’s true, Vivi,” he continues, nudging me playfully. “The sooner you accept how great I am, the better.

I scoff, crossing my arms. “Keep dreaming, Evans.”

“Great answer, Vivian,” a deep voice calls from the next room. “I’ve been trying to tell him for years that stuff doesn’t impress the ladies.”

Mac chuckles, shaking his head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pops.”

As we step into the kitchen, the delicious aroma growsstronger. Mac’s dad is standing at the counter, sprinkling seasoning over a platter of chicken and steaks. He’s wearing an apron that readsKiss the Chefin bold, red letters.

He wipes his hands on a towel and steps toward me, extending a firm but welcoming handshake. His eyes are kind, filled with a warmth that instantly puts me at ease. With a respectful nod, he says, “Vivian, we’re glad you could make it. I hope you’re hungry—because you haven’t really eaten until you’ve had my special blend of seasoning. Prepare yourself for the greatest meal of your life.”

I shake his hand. “Thank you. It sounds like I’m in for a treat.”

Mac leans against the counter, grinning. “My dad is as good a chef as I am a hockey player.”

His dad smirks, crossing his arms over his apron. “This is true.”

I laugh softly. I’ve just arrived, but I already feel so comfortable in this house.

“This is ready to go on the grill,” Mac’s dad announces, holding the platter over his head.

“Would you like some coffee? Mac, please get Vivian a drink,” Jeannie orders.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mac says, jumping into action. “We have coffee, soda, water, tea, wine, and I’m sure my mom has a secret stash of scotch hidden somewhere in this kitchen.”

“Mac,” his mom shrieks.

He bursts into laughter. “I’m kidding.”

She shoots him a warning look.

“A Diet Coke is fine,” I say, hopping onto one of the barstools.

“So is this weird for you?” Jeannie asks, not wasting any time getting to the point.

“I’m guessing you’re referring to the fact that Mac and I haven’t exactly been known for getting along,” I say with a smirk.

Jeannie nods knowingly. “Yes. And trust me, as much as I love my son, he can be a handful.”

I can’t help but giggle. “Oh, I know that all too well.”

From across the room, Mac lets out a groan. “Hello? I’m right here.”

He shakes his head as he hands me my drink before sitting down on the stool next to me. Jeannie watches us with an amused expression before speaking again. “In all seriousness, I’m really happy you two have moved past all that.”

Mac glances at me, his eyes warm. “I’m working on it, Mom.”

Jeannie tilts her head, giving him one of those motherly looks. “As you should. You let a lot of years slip by.”

Mac exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Don’t remind me.”

I shrug. “We’re all learning.”

Jeannie smiles softly. “That’s all any of us can do.”

We continue chatting until the back door swings open. Mac’s dad comes in carrying a platter piled with perfectly grilled steaks and juicy chicken. The mouthwatering aroma fills the room, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

I take a moment to glance around, soaking up the cozy atmosphere. But what catches my attention the most is watching Mac with his parents. The way he jokes with his dad, the lighthearted teasing between him and his mom—it’s a side of him I’ve never seen before. He’s at ease here, like this is the truest version of himself. Witnessing all of this is making something shift inside me.

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