Page 54 of Puck Shots
“I’d cancel,” I reply without a second thought, then the guilt creeps in that I didn’t even hesitate to bail on Eli for this dinner. Not that we had any set plans. We’ve been hooking up every day this week, but he’d understand even if we did. Wouldn’t he?
“Dude, you have to help me pick what to wear. Do I go with my suit?” Luka asks, heading to his wardrobe.
Where is my suit? Maybe I can just wear dress pants and a nice shirt, maybe a tie? Fuck. I click the accept link on the email invite and open up my messages.
ME:
Hey, guess who’s invited to dinner with the big wigs of Boston.
My oldest brother Brent replies a few minutes later, despite the time difference, he’s great like that.
BRENT:
That’s awesome, little bro.
See, I told you that this year was going to be your year.
Have you told the parents yet?
ME:
Not yet. Just got the invite a few minutes ago.
BRENT:
I knew I was the favorite. Fuck, I wish I could be there.
ME:
Me, too. You could have come and used that fake British accent of yours to charm the coach.
BRENT:
***shocked face emoji*** My accent isn’t fake!
Besides, I’m not sure Camden would approve of me using it to charm anyone, even if it is for my favourite needy brother.
ME:
It’s spelled favorite.
BRENT:
*** middle finger emoji*** Tell the rents before I do.
I send back a thumbs up emoji and flick through my contacts and dial home.
“Cosmo, honey, how are you?” Mom asks the second she answers. Should have known they’d get that caller ID thing sorted out. Probably had Brent fix it up for them when he visited last.
“Hi, Mom. I’m good. Great, actually. I just got invited to a dinner for one of the NHL teams.”
“That’s great, honey. Which one?”
“Boston. But here’s the thing…” She stays silent, giving me the time I need to get to my point. She’s always been like that. Patient. “I know it’s short notice, but do you think you and Dad could come with me? It’s tomorrow night?”
“Jo, we’re going to Boston,” Mom yells, and I wince at the volume. Dad could have been down the block and heard her at that level.
“What time is dinner, and do you need us to pick you up on the way or meet you there? Oh, send me the restaurant details, anyway. I can show your father the menu so he’s picked what he wants before we get there. You know how he gets when he has to decide under pressure.”
