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Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating about the tears, but I’m trying to make a point here, and I have had a couple of potential partners back out.
“You did ask if I had some kind of disorder,” Dad says to Mom.
This conversation is so fucking weird. We pull into the driveway. My sister’s car is there, but River’s isn’t. I’m guessing he’s at Josiah’s for the night.
“Look, I’m a student for two more weeks, and her contract with the university ends this semester because she’s a visiting professor.”
“And then what? Are you going to openly date her?” Mom sounds aghast at the prospect.
“I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not. She’s the one who has something to lose, not me. So it really depends on what she wants.”
I hate the turn this conversation has taken. I don’t want to think about what happens after contract talks. Nashville is far—farther than I’d like. And who knows if they’ll decide I need time on the farm team first. And Clover’s moving to Pearl Bay once the lease is up on the house in Chicago. If I was sticking around here, that would be fantastic, but I have no idea where I’ll be next year.
“Would you feel differently if it was six months from now and I was an NHL player, and she wasn’t associated with the college?” I ask.
Mom sighs. “But it’s not different. It’s right now. We’re worried about you. Is this why you were so . . . morose over the Christmas holidays? Did you leave early so you could be with her?”
I don’t see the point in lying. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I left early.” I reach for the door handle. I’m relieved the dinner plan went out the window after Gabriel showed up. My mom losing her shit on me in the truck is one thing, in a public restaurant is another. “I gotta put in some hours on the books tonight since exams start next week.”
“Son.” My dad puts his hand on my arm to stop me from getting out of the truck.
I sigh. “What?”
“I don’t know if this relationship is good for you or not. I do know that I love you. What do you know about this ex of hers, other than he’s been making it hard on her by not signing the divorce papers? And how does he know about your relationship?”
“I gotta assume he’s been keeping tabs on her, or me, or both of us.” I run my fingers through my hair, really wishing like hell I could call Clover and find out what’s going on. “We’ve been careful because of her position.”
“Because she knows she shouldn’t be sleeping with her twenty-one-year-old student,” Mom grumbles.
“Uncle Darren is almost a decade older than Aunt Charlene, and no one seems to think he’s too old for her.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Why? Because the roles are reversed? Because she’s the older one? You’re perpetuating a stereotype. I get that you think I’m young, but how many twenty-one-year-olds have the kind of responsibilities I do? I’m a full-time student. I play varsity hockey seven days a week. I teach self-defense classes two days a week at the gym. I’ve been a summer hockey coach for kids since I was fifteen. I run a house, and I make sure my brother and sister are dealing with life okay. I think I’m beyond dating college girls whose biggest worry is how many views their fucking video got on TikTok. I’m not the first twenty-one-year-old in the history of the world who’s dated an older woman.”
“Who’s married to a lunatic!”
“Vi, I know you’re upset, but can we focus on the more important detail here, which is the fact that this woman’s husband sought her out in a very public place and then came after our son?” He turns back to me. “I’m worried about your safety.”
“And I’m worried about Clover’s.”
“Clover?” Mom parrots.
“Yeah. Her name is Clover.”
“Is that a nickname?”
“You named me Maverick.”
“Vi, please.” My dad holds up his hand, and Mom flops back in her seat with a huff.
“What else has happened with this guy? Do you need me to call in a favor with the Chicago PD?”
There are good and bad sides to having a dad who was basically famous, not just for his illustrious hockey career, but also his brief stint in sportscasting and his time as a coach for the NHL, not to mention the condom ads, among other endorsements. The bad side is that because I look like my dad, people also expect me to be exactly like him. The good side is that there are a lot of guys on the force who have sons who play hockey. So my dad can call in favors when he needs them.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I tell him. “At the beginning, he was sending her gift baskets and stuff. That was back in late October or early November, but it’s escalated since then.”
Mom’s head appears between us. “I thought you said you weren’t sleeping with her when you were her student.”
