“Callie doesn’t like coffee,” I explain.
“Of course she does. She’s drank it for years.” Lillian waves me off.
“Actually,” I say, gathering our plates, “I think what you’re referring to is when she was younger and would drink it because you expected her to. Did you know studies show that forcing children to eat and drink things they don’t like often has the opposite effect, leading to negative associations with the food and, by extension, the parent who made them consume it?” Offering her a tight smile, I make my way back to my girlfriend.
I take my seat next to Callie, handing her one of the plates. Leaning next to her ear, I whisper, “Sorry, no-go on the hot cocoa.”
Callie’s face breaks out into a beaming grin at my rhyme, causing her to choke on a bite of cake.
“What do you think, Oliver?” Ira’s voice pulls me back to the conversation and away from his daughter.
“Sorry,” I say, finding him watching us closely, “what was that?”
Ira practically licks his plate clean in between words. “Don’t you think it would be worth Calloway’s while to consider returning to school to study in a different field? She has so much potential, but it’s being wasted in a classroom. She always excelled at sciences—she could’ve been a chemist or a botanist. But she settled for something so far beneath her abilities.”
If this is the way her family talks to her at every family meal, I can’t believe she keeps returning.
Taking a deep breath to temper the building frustration, I level Ira with my gaze. “Education is a perfectly respectable field, sir,” I say calmly. “If Callie ever decided to return to school, I know she would flourish in whatever discipline she may choose. But if she received this kind of pressure growing up, I’m not surprised she concluded her education at the bachelor level.”
Ira narrows his eyes as though I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. “And why is that?”
“Parental pressure to perform is a very real issue. I see it often in my practice.” I shrug. “Anxiety, burnout and mental exhaustion are pretty common in these types of situations, leading to potentially choosing a path that others may consider the easy way out.”
Callie’s father leans back in his seat, a secretive smile playing on his lips. Like he knows about our chess game.
But if respect for his daughter is on the line, I’m going to win.
I’ll make sure of it.
“Oliver,” Connie’s soprano voice cuts through the thickening air, “do you have much family in the area?”
“My parents and sister live in town.” Sitting forward, I adjust until Callie’s knee touches mine. “Apparently, my sister used to bug Callie about dating me.” Smirking at my girlfriend, I’m rewarded with her lovely blush.
Connie turns to her sister. “Is that true, Calloway?”
Callie nods. “Yep. His sister owns the pilates studio I go to. For months, all I heard about was what a great guy her brother was.” She reaches over, stealing my hand for herself and intertwining our fingers. “Turns out, she was right.”
Looking from Callie back to the rest of her family, I realize something. “Why do you all call her Calloway instead of Callie?” I ask no one in particular.
“It’s her name,” Lillian answers, polishing off her cup of coffee.
Across the room, Chris smirks. “And because she hates it.”
Conversation swiftly turns to Prescott and some cases they’re working on at the firm when Callie leans my way. “How much longer do you think we need to stay?” she whispers. “It’s been nearly two hours.” Wide eyes convey she’s hoping for an answer that means we need to leave soon, much to my amusement.
And who am I to deny her?
Pulling out my phone, I pretend to check a text message. “It looks like Nacho had a little mishap,” I say a little louder than necessary.
Callie’s furrowed brow hangs around for only a moment before understanding dawns on her. “Oh, man. Well, we should probably go so you can check on her,” she nods, standing and motioning for me to follow her lead.
Connie turns to us. “Who’s Nacho?”
“Oliver’s sweet dog,” Callie explains. “Sorry Mom, Dad, but we need to go.”
Lillian and Ira stand, shaking my hand as I thank them for having me and wish them a happy holiday. Giving a general sentiment to the rest of the Rutherfords, I smile at my girlfriend and offer my hand as we make our way toward the front door.
Just as Callie and I slip on our coats, Chris rounds the corner and heads right for us.
