Page 44 of The Player's Club

“It’s lovely to meet you. Melody, you said?” Judy asked. Her voice was kind, and her expression full of curiosity.

“It’s just Elodie. No ‘M.’” I sat down with a wry smile. “My parents liked to make things complicated with choosing my name.”

“That’s pretty. Elodie.” Judy turned to her husband. “Don’t you think, honey?”

Bob grunted. “You said you’re a friend of Mac’s?”

I forced myself not to squirm under his intense scrutiny. “That’s right. I’m from LA, and Mac invited me up here. I’ve never been to Idaho before. I had no idea how pretty it was.” Now I felt like I was babbling.

“We live in White Rock,” Judy said. “Although we come to Coeur d’Alene often. Did you grow up in Los Angeles?”

“For the most part, yeah,” I replied.

“If you have time while you’re here, you should go to Silver Beach. It’s the best spot near the lake,” Bob said. To my surprise, he even smiled.

I didn’t know how to reconcile the estranged, judgmental parents Mac had described with these people in front of me. They seemed like your average, supportive parents who wanted to get to know their son’s friend.

“We’re hoping to take Mac out for his birthday dinner after the game,” Judy said. “Would you like to join us?”

“It’s his birthday?” I blurted.

Bob chuckled. “Indeed. But it’s no surprise he didn’t tell you. He’s never been a big fan of parties or the attention that comes along with birthdays.”

“Just like his father,” Judy said. She shook her head. “The men in this family act like birthday parties are torture.”

“Getting people to sing to you is torture,” Bob groused.

I felt a little hurt that Mac hadn’t told me it was his birthday. I also felt strangely guilty, like I should’ve known when his birthday was already. I was sure I’d come across it when googling him way back when, hadn’t I? But if what Bob said was right and the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree, perhaps Mac was intentionally trying to forget about this day.

Fortunately for all three of us, but mostly for me, the hockey game kept us from having to keep making small talk. When Bob went to get Judy a soda, he asked me if I wanted anything. Although I declined, he still brought back some popcorn that all three of us could share, making sure we had our own bag to eat out of. At one point, Mac spotted us. He flashed me an apologetic look. It felt like an out-of-body experience—me sitting here eating popcorn with Mac’s parents. I could’ve never predicted that this would be how I’d spend the day.

After the game, Mac’s parents and I were brought to a spot near the locker room to wait for Mac to appear. I was nervous with anticipation. How would Mac react to seeing his parents? Would he want me to join them all for dinner?Did I even mention his birthday if it would only upset him?

As far as I knew, Mac hadn’t had any intention of telling his parents of my existence. And how did we explain our relationship? I’d simply described us as being friends, but if Mac said he was my boyfriend . . . I shook myself. We weren’t dating. Not really, anyway. I highly doubted Bob and Judy would understand our arrangement.

When Mac saw the three of us standing together, his eyes widened. I could see the shock on his handsome face. But that mask he was able to take on and off for the press quickly slipped into place. He approached us warily but not unkindly. He shook his dad’s hand, then hugged his mom before his gaze landed on me. His expression was hard to read, almost apologetic.

“We got to know your friend here,” Judy said before I could speak. “We wanted to take you both out for dinner to celebrate your birthday.”

“Oh, Mom, you don’t have to do that,” Mac said.

Bob frowned. “Don’t act like that.”

Mac tensed. “I don’t want to put you out.”

“Sweetheart.” His mom rested a hand on his chest. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Let us take you out.”

Mac and Bob seemed to have a staring contest, which I could only describe as similar to two dogs circling each other, waiting for the other to show weakness. I grew tense just watching them. I became more and more interested in the true dynamics of this family when no one else was around.

But then Mac nodded tightly, even as I could tell that he didn’t seem remotely excited about having dinner with his parents.

This will be one hell of an interesting evening, that’s for sure.

Bob and Judy drove us to a local steakhouse. Mac and I sat in the back, so we didn’t get a chance to talk privately, except for a few exchanged glances. Inside, the restaurant was crowded, and for some reason, I got the feeling it was a place Mac might’ve frequented back when he lived here.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear as we exited the car, “Sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.” I made sure his parents were far enough ahead as we walked to the restaurant from the parking lot before adding, “I also said you were just a friend. I didn’t know what else to say.”