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“I know. But nothing is going to happen to me.”
She reaches out and lays her hand over mine before squeezing until it becomes borderline painful. “Unfortunately, no one can make such promises.”
Before Mom can get any more emotional, Dad says, “All right, so you’re working at a bar. I assume you aren’t getting off until two or three in the morning. How are you getting home at night?”
It would probably be best to tell them that Viola picks me up, but the last thing I want to do is drag her into this mess. Plus, I’m trying to be honest with them. I don’t want to add more lies to it.
“A friend gives me a ride. I’m not walking home if that’s what you’re worried about.”
My anxious gaze bounces between them as I hold my breath, waiting to see if they’ll pepper me with more questions.
“I don’t like it,” Mom says with a watery sniff. “You should quit and find a different job. Maybe something on campus with hours during the day.” She perks up. “Like at the library.”
My father nods in agreement. “That’s an excellent idea, Ellie.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to look for another job. I like this one. Sully, the owner, is really nice and flexible with hours. And the people I work with are great. Gerry, the bouncer, always keeps an eye on things so that situations don’t get out of hand.”
I don’t mention that Wolf is always there as well. He shows up after practice or games and would never let anything happen to me.
“What’s the name of this bar?” Dad asks. “Maybe we’d feel better about it if we stopped by and checked the place out for ourselves.” He glances at his wife. “Don’t you think that might put your mind at ease?”
Mom scrunches her face. “I don’t know. I hate the idea of you working around a bunch of drunk men.”
“The place is called Slap Shotz,” I mumble.
With a tilt of his head, Dad narrows his eyes. “What is that? Like a sports bar or something?”
I wince. I can almost see the wheels in his brain turning.
As tempting as it is to lie, I refuse to do it anymore. “Yes.”
He straightens in his chair. “Who exactly makes up the clientele?”
“Um, well, a lot of people. Mostly college students.”
Mom blinks as if trying to play mental catchup. “Hugo?”
He doesn’t bother to glance at her. Instead, his steely gaze remains pinned to mine. “Have you run into him there?” he asks softly, voice shaking as if he’s trying to keep a firm handle on his temper.
“Please tell me that we’re not talking about that boy. Not today of all days.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not trying to upset either one of you. I just wanted to be honest about where I’m working. I didn’t want to keep lying.”
Even though this has gone just as bad as I suspected, it’s still a relief to get it out in the open.
“Well, it’s settled then,” my father says with a growl. “You’ll quit immediately. I don’t give a damn if you can’t pay rent or tuition. It’s better than being around Wolf Westerville.”
“I knew allowing you to come here for school was a mistake,” Mom says with a small cry.
With a glance in her direction, I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t. I’m happy at Western.”
I jump almost a foot when my father bangs his fist on the table, rattling the silverware. “I don’t give a damn! That family has not only stolen our son but bankrupted us! Over my dead body will you socialize with that little prick!”
My eyes flare wide as the customers seated around us swivel in our direction and stare at Dad with wide eyes. Heat scalds my cheeks as people whisper to one another with bent heads and hushed tones.
“Dad,” I mumble, embarrassed by the way he’s losing it. He’s normally so calm and controlled. It just shows how enraged he is. “Please.”
He sticks two fingers in the collar of the pressed button down, yanking it away from his throat as if it’s strangling him. “I’d murder every single Westerville in their sleep if I could get away with it.”
