Playing for Keeps: Chapter 32
“So…. what’s new?” Dad asks in a cheery tone from across the able, his gaze oscillating between my brother and my boyfriend.
My boyfriend. That still sounds so strange to me …. It’s going to take some getting used to—in a good way.
Owen grunts and rolls his shoulders. We’re all together—one big, happy-ish family—celebrating Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. We’d had the main festivities with Justin’s mom earlier today and now that the sun has set, we’re just sitting down at the table for some pie with my parents and brother. We survived our first family outing earlier—and now I pray that we’ll make it through this one too.
Dad’s eyes swing over to Justin next and stay there while he waits for a response that I’m pretty sure isn’t coming. Ever since we arrived here fifteen minutes ago, I swear Owen hasn’t said three words. And Justin has said exactly four. Hello, everyone. Happy Thanksgiving.
This is just so weird. I hate the thought that things have become strained between my brother and Justin, but I guess it’s normal for there to be an adjustment period. Right? At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
I poke at the slice of pumpkin pie on the plate in front of me with my fork and say a silent prayer for the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I’m pretty sure that’d be better than sitting through this awkward, uncomfortable silence.
“With the team, I mean,” Dad clarifies at the silence still permeating my parent’s formal dining room. “Anything new?”
I clear my throat and look to my mom, who looks almost just as panicked as I feel. I had given her a heads-up when we talked earlier this week that there might still be some lingering tension between Owen and Justin over our new relationship status, but I hoped it was nothing that couldn’t be solved with dessert and alcohol. Emphasis on the alcohol. True to form, Mom had supplied everyone with a stiff beverage as soon as we’d come through the front door of my childhood home. Thank God for small blessings.
Dad’s bushy gray eyebrows pinch together, and then he shakes his head once before forking a large bite of apple pie into his mouth.
“The pie is amazing, Mom,” I say, slightly breathless. She smiles, but her lips are pulled into a firm line, and I realize with embarrassment that I haven’t actually tasted the pie in front of me yet, so I rectify that, bringing a bite to my mouth and chewing slowly, like everything is totally normal.
“Look, can we just …” Justin starts, setting his fork down beside his plate and rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. There’s a line creasing his forehead and he looks concerned. I have no idea what he’s about to say. But one thing is certain, he couldn’t take the silence anymore either. “Can we just clear the air a bit here? I’m dating Elise now. I know that might be weird for you guys, or that it might have come out of left field, or whatever, but I love her. I love your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Parrish.”
My mom smiles again and this time, it’s genuine, her blue-ish gray eyes crinkling in the corners as she looks between us.
“And Owen, I…” Justin’s speech is interrupted by my father raising his right hand—the one still holding the fork—and he’s shaking his head.
“It’s not weird at all, son. Elise’s mom and I, we respect you. We watched you grow up, and we know you weren’t necessarily dealt the best hand. You didn’t have an easy time of it, and we know you’ve done extremely well for yourself. We’re proud of you.”
Tears threaten to fill my eyes, because I didn’t know it, but this was exactly what I needed to hear. I needed my family’s acceptance. But my dad’s not done.
“And as long as Elise is happy,” he adds, “we’re happy. And we’re more than supportive of a relationship between the two of you.”
My mom reaches across the table and gives my dad’s shoulder a squeeze. “What he said. We love you both.”
Justin manages a thank you, and I barely hold my tears inside, blinking rapidly to clear my vision.
The dessert set before us has been forgotten, because now four sets of eyes swing over to Owen. His expression is stern, and he’s staring down at the table in front of him.
God, why is he making this so awkward?
I’m not sure I could pinpoint what his issue is with me and Justin dating, even if you offered me a million dollars. Does he really think Justin’s days of being a player (off the ice) aren’t over? Does he think Justin will cheat on me? Break my heart? That we’re not actually in love simply because Justin didn’t have a good parental example of love growing up?
I’ve never seen Owen bothered by something quite so much. He’s always been the easy-going, down for fun, playful type. But the tense energy flowing off him in waves is hard to ignore.
“Owen?” I ask, voice coming out soft. “Can you say something, please? Anything.”
Finally, Owen clears his throat and looks up, locking eyes with Justin. “This is going to sound stupid.”
My heart melts a little at the fact he’s going to open up. I have no idea what’s on his mind, but I’m thankful he’s going to talk to us, finally. And it’s only natural that he’s got thoughts about this. I’m just dying to know what they are, what his objections could possibly be to me being happy and treated well in a committed relationship. Because seriously, bro …
He’s still looking across the table at Justin, still baring that same weird expression—it’s a mix between angry and hurt. “You’ve never been in a relationship before…”
I hold up my hand, ready to jump in and defend Justin, when he stops me by placing one hand gently against my spine.
“Let him finish,” Justin says softly, leaning in toward me.
I take a deep breath and nod, gesturing for Owen to continue.
Owen sighs, leaning in to look at Justin. “You’re my best friend. You’ve been by my side through team trades and draft picks, and injuries, and playoff games. We’ve shared an apartment for years now, and every hotel room while on the road for longer than that. Hell, you’re the only person I could call that time I was tied up and…” He looks down at his lap and shakes his head, and Justin does the same.
Oh God, not the sex emergency.
Owen sighs and looks back up. “Anyway, you’ve always been the one I can count on, and I appreciate that.”
Justin nods, acknowledging him at a brief pause in Owen’s monologue. “Absolutely man, and it’s been a crazy good ride. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”
Owen swallows. “But that’s just it. Change is inevitable now. You’re in a relationship with Elise, and I’m not so dense that I don’t see that it’s going to change us. Our friendship. Everything.”
That’s what he’s worried about? For a second, I’m speechless. His little bro-mance with Justin? But then everything starts to click. With sadness, I finally get it. Owen’s worried he’s going to lose his best friend. His best friend of twenty-plus years. I’m about to open my mouth and tell him I would never let that happen, that I’d never stand in the way of their friendship, when it suddenly occurs to me, he’s right. To a certain extent, their relationship has already begun to change—and I’m sure Owen feels that. Their days of prowling the bars hunting for girls are over. Their nights of double dates, and wild stories, and being each other’s wingman are done. Part of me feels sad for Owen, but the rest of me is thinking boo-fucking-hoo, dude. Maybe it’s time to grow the heck up. I clear my throat, and look to Justin before I say something that’s probably going to come across as insensitive.
“I get it man, trust me, I do,” Justin says, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table, looking directly at Owen. “And I know you think things are going to change now that I’m out of the game, so to speak, but you and I both know I haven’t been … ah,” he looks at me once, narrowing his eyes as if he’s selecting his words carefully, “playing the game for a while now. Even before Elise, it had all grown stale to me.”
Owen considers this, nodding once. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“But I promise you,” Justin adds. “You’re my best friend. And I’ll always make time for you. I’ve got your back. Just like I know you’ve got mine. And it means the world that you trust me with your sister. I promise I’m going to be good to her.”
Owen raises his bottle of beer in a toast. “I know you will. And I’m glad you both understand that you’re stuck with me.”
Justin grins, and joins him, clinking his own beer against Owen’s before taking a long drink. “We’re not going anywhere,” he reassures him.
I rise to my feet, and round the table to throw my arms around my brother’s shoulders. “I love you, big bro.”
“Yeah, yeah. Love you too,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling.
My dad clears his throat and all eyes in the room swing his way once again. “Relationship drama out of the way… is it safe to ask what’s new with the team now?” Dad asks and we all begin laughing.