Page 45 of The Player's Club
“It’s fine. They probably don’t believe you, though.” Mac’s eyes sparkled. “But maybe don’t tell them about how I spanked your ass last night either.”
I smacked his arm, rolling my eyes, and Mac smiled for the first time since walking out of the locker room. But when we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant, the mask from earlier was firmly in place.
Bob started grilling Mac with questions even before the server took our orders. Did he overpay for his place out in LA? Was he still driving that fancy car? Had he been to church lately? Judy interjected on occasion, but for all intents and purposes, it was almost like we women weren’t even present.
When Mac ordered a salad and a chicken breast, his father remarked, “How do you keep your strength up eating bird food like that?”
“Since when do birds eat chicken?” Mac countered.
“Honey, you know Mac has to be careful about what he eats. He’s an athlete, after all.” Judy smiled and put a hand on her husband’s arm. I got the feeling she was trying to get him to ease up.
Bob shook his head. “You know Eric? Steve White’s son? He ate a steak every day and played football. Was the strongest player on the team, too. Probably never ate a salad in his damn life.”
“His poor gut,” I said jokingly. Mac’s parents turned and stared at me. So I added, “I mean, you gotta eat fiber at least sometimes. Right?”
“Dad, I’m pretty sure last I heard, Eric just had his second heart attack.” Mac’s tone was dry. “That’s where all that steak got him.”
There was a strange tension between Mac and Bob that I didn’t fully understand. Judy didn’t seem to be a part of it. She seemed more like the peacekeeper. And here I was, a total third wheel, almost wishing I’d stayed in LA. And miss this possible scoop of Mac’s family?
I began cutting my own steak, suddenly wishing I’d been smart like Mac and had gotten something lighter to eat. The red meat and baked potato sat heavily in my stomach after just a few bites.
“It was a great game tonight,” Judy said. “I really enjoyed watching you play.”
“I’m glad you finally decided to come,” Mac replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Judy looked embarrassed. “You know we’ve been busy, what with running the church and whatnot—”
“We never asked you to put tickets aside for us.” Bob folded his arms across his chest.
Mac’s jaw ticked. “No, but I wanted to all the same.”
“That’s just how you are, isn’t it? You just do what you want, no matter what else anyone thinks.” Bob downed some of his water.
Despite Judy’s attempts to hush him, Bob wasn’t deterred, and Mac looked pissed. His jaw was rigid, and his expression grim. I wondered if the two men would come to blows. My cheeks heated as I suddenly grew uncomfortable to be in the middle of what was clearly a long-standing, private family matter.
“I’m not going to apologize for how I choose to live my own life,” Mac said through gritted teeth. “Because it is my life.”
“Even when it’s immoral? Even when it goes against what God wants for us?” Bob’s voice gentled, which made things strangely tenser. “You know you’ll always be welcome in the family, but not without letting go of these . . . delusions.”
Now, I was confused. I caught Judy’s glance, but she just shook her head slightly as if to say, Keep quiet.
“Delusions?” Mac shot back. “You’re the one who’s delusional—”
Judy interrupted, “Stop it, you two. We came out to celebrate Mac’s birthday and to spend some time together as a family for once. Plus, we have a guest. So either you two shape up, or I’m going home and taking Elodie with me.”
Bob and Mac scowled, which would’ve been funny if the situation weren’t already so tense. We sat in silence for a long while, and I played Bob’s words back in my head. Not without letting go of these delusions. What was he referring to? Did he somehow know about Mac’s sexual interests? I suppose it didn’t take much to disappoint a rigidly religious man, so perhaps, it was something else.
The dinner continued, and Bob and Mac barely spoke to each other. Judy and I tried our best to keep the conversation light, but by the time Bob got the check, we’d all fallen into awkward silence again.
“We’re just going to grab an Uber,” Mac said as we stood out front. He typed into his cell and let out a relieved breath. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”
“Uber.” Bob shook his head. “Whatever.”
The four of us stood out front waiting. Thankfully, it really was only two minutes before a black SUV pulled up. Mac glanced at the license plate.
“2ZGE857. This is us.”
I said goodbye to Bob and Judy, and Mac opened the door for me to get in the car. He took a moment to say his own goodbyes before joining me in the back seat. The man could walk out of the locker room after playing an intense hockey game and not look tired, but right now he looked like he’d been run over by a semi.