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She laughed. “It’s okay, Gran. He’s perfect just the way he is.”
I wanted to stick my finger down my throat and make a gagging sound, but knew that both Jack and Gran would murder me later for being rude, so I stayed quiet.
“Jack, Dean, come help me serve, will you?” Gran asked.
We jumped up from the table and returned carrying steaming dishes filled with homemade Italian food. It smelled fantastic. I couldn’t even eat at Italian restaurants after having Gran’s meals. She’d ruined me.
“Dig in, please. Cassie first,” Gramps said, which was his way of giving us guys a reminder to be hospitable and not attack the food like ravenous wolves.
Cassie reached for the bowl of spaghetti and dished out a huge helping before grabbing two slices of garlic bread and dropping them onto her plate. As she was dishing out some salad onto her plate, her eyes grew wide and she froze, as if she’d only realized how much food she’d piled on.
“Get enough, Kitten?” Jack teased.
“I think I got excited in my serving sizes,” she admitted as her cheeks pinked.
“Don’t worry about it. Just eat what you can.”
“This all looks incredible, Gran,” she said, her apology in her eyes. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome, dear. We’re so glad you came.”
“Jack, we need to talk about the draft,” Gramps mentioned between bites.
“What about it?”
The conversation continued about the upcoming major league draft and Jack’s role in it. We’d been told that he’d most likely be picked up by a team in the first round, which was a big deal that included a significant signing bonus.
Cassie apparently didn’t know a thing about it, so we all tried to fill her in on how it worked, including the fact that there would be cameramen at the house filming Jack’s reaction to whoever drafted him.
When Jack mentioned his two agents, she got even more confused, not understand how he could have agents already when he was still playing in college. After explaining the technicalities to that as well, she seemed to take it all in stride until it finally hit her that Jack getting drafted meant that he was leaving.
“When is it, anyway?” she asked, referring to the draft.
“The first Monday in June,” I answered before anyone else could.
“And then when do you leave?” Her eyes were firmly focused on Jack as if the rest of us were no longer a part of the conversation.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think right after,” he said.
She looked as if she was about to cry. “Like that day?”
“No. But within a week, I think.”
Cassie was obviously upset. Tears were going to start falling any second. How had Jack not discussed this with her at all?
I kicked him under the table and this time I didn’t miss, wanting to be sure he knew what an insensitive idiot he was.
The mood sobered a bit with Cassie’s continued questions and Jack’s nonstop answers that did nothing to soothe her. I felt bad enough until Gran asked what they planned on doing about their relationship once Jack left. Then I felt horrible for them.
The look on their faces said it all—they hadn’t talked about shit.
I mentioned something about long-distance relationships being awful, and that sent Gran and Gramps into a lecture about how beautiful and wonderful they could be. I had zero experience with it, but it sounded like a crap idea. Then again, if the only other option was to not be together, then I would try it too if I were them.
“Well, that’s enough of that talk for one night. I’m sure the kids don’t want to think about all this stuff right now.” Gran waved a hand in front of her face before rising from the table, followed by Gramps.
“No, it was really nice to hear. Thank you.” Cassie smiled, and I wondered if it was just for show.
“We’ll get the dishes, Gran. Go lie down,” my brother suggested with a smarmy smile.
