"You're Mr. Hockey Superstar, Mr. NHL Legacy," Mom says. "I think you have bigger things to worry about, right?"
I stare at a spot in the tablecloth, willing it to burst into flames. Alex shifts uncomfortably. I can see his fists clench.
I feel bad that Beck dragged him here. My parents are nice enough, but they aren't exactly tactful people.
"I'm still proud," Beck cuts in. "I love having my little sister work with me. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on her and scare away all the idiots that think they're good enough to date her." He gives me a conspiratorial wink. "Now I've even got her living at Thorne's house. There's no way any of the idiots she normally dates would bother trying there. Thorne would cook them."
Alex's lips lift. "When you're right, you're right."
My mom, who can't stand when the conversation is not all about her, starts telling Beck the deeply boring story of her and Dad's trip here. What flights they took, how rude the flight attendants were, whose bags got lost. I start looking around for the waiter.
I think I'm going to need some wine to get through this dinner.
My mom monopolizes Beck's attention. Which, fair. They came all this way and he is her favorite.
My dad makes an effort with me. "So... what do you do in your off time now, Moll Doll? I know you used to be obsessed with getting to the Olympics, but... obviously at the moment, you're not skating morning, noon, and night. You look healthy, not skinny as a rail like you were. You been practicing ballet or something?"
"Dad!" I chuckle. "God, I haven't done that since I was a kid. I've just been babysitting for Beck here and there..."
"And she's been skating, too." Alex makes eye contact with me, his eyebrows lowering. "And walking Gordie, my dog."
“Skating!” My dad seems shocked. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“She does great,” Alex says. “Total pro.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” My mom looks pinched. "What kind of dog do you have, Alex?"
"He's an Irish wolfhound. Big, black, terrifying... but sweet as a lamb."
"He sheds like you wouldn't believe," I add.
Bread is brought out and I look around. "Are we supposed to order?"
"Nah, this place is prix fixe. Everybody gets the same thing."
"Actually, you do get a choice of a few things. But your mom ordered for everybody. Hope that's okay with you, Alex," my dad supplies.
Alex's lips thin. "I'm fine. But I hope you remembered that Mollie can't have tree nuts. Almonds, pistachios, walnuts..."
"How do you know about that?" Beck asks.
"You think I’d have her living in my house and not know that she can’t have nuts?" Alex gives Beck a skeptical glance. "You know, I think I'll just wave down the waiter and let him know. Anaphylaxis is no joke."
"You're telling me." I dig around for a second before pulling an epinephrine injector out of my purse. "I haven't had a serious reaction in years, but I still carry this just in case."
Alex's brows knit. "I didn't know that it was that serious."
"Her throat closed up one time when we were in line at Disneyland," my dad says, shaking his head. "Your mom and I were so scared. Right honey?"
He glances at my mom, who looks tearful. "It was just awful. And everybody there was so damn unhelpful. 'What did she eat? When? Blah, blah.'" She pulls a face. "Like I let my kid run around, eating everything. They wanted me to feel like a bad mom."
"You're not a bad mom," Beck says, rubbing her back. "There's no way you could've known."
Alex stands up, clearing his throat. "I'll just go find that waiter."
I watch him wind his way through the restaurant. He's overprotective, worse than my brother is. But I will take that over reliving the Disneyland fiasco any day.
"Alex must be the nicest roommate," my mom says. Her eyes have this faraway look and I swear, she's like... looking longingly at him. With my dad right here? Yuck.
