Page 61 of The Sweet Spot

“I like my meat plain. The way people should eat it.”

I ignored it. There was no use getting upset, and thankfully, the conversation shifted to the Kodiaks. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so thankful, though.

“That losing streak you were on was terrible to watch,” Peter said. “Vaughn and Grant are pathetic. I can’t believe they didn’t get rid of Vaughn when he was fooling around with his teammate’s wife. You lost one of the best defensemen in the league because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, screwing around with that whore.”

I tried not to be shocked. Part of me wondered if he knew about my connection to Jeremy, and that one of my best friends was dating him, but I couldn’t see Brandon telling his dad about that. I had a feeling they didn’t talk much at all.

“He paid the price for that mistake. And Jeremy is one of the best players on our team.”

“Problem is, if you don’t lead that room, you’re going to keep losing.”

The Kodiaks had just come off a winning streak, and Peter was still focusing on the past?

Susan took the opportunity to have a side conversation with me. I barely knew her, but I could tell the smile on her face wasn’t genuine. When you knew, you knew. She tilted her head a bit, her blue eyes blinking rapidly for a moment.

“Tell me ... your hair. What a unique color. Why did you pick that?”

I sensed a few backhanded insults in there, but I rolled with it. His parents seemed as conservative as they came, and there was nothing wrong with that. Who was I to judge their choices? We all had our own free will.

“It was fun.”

“So you like to stand out?”

I kept a smile on my face. “No, I just like doing fun things. It’s part of who I am.”

“I imagine you get a lot of odd looks, no?”

Something about the tone of her voice struck me as condemning. Again, I wasn’t surprised. My father had been a history professor for decades, and he used that same teacherly tone when he was putting someone in their place, but Dad was always as kind as possible about it. Susan had a different approach.

“I suppose it depends on where I am and who I am hanging out with.”

I shouldn’t have said that. I cringed when her eyes narrowed just a touch. I’d poked the bear.

“I see,” she said and turned back to the conversation Brandon and Peter were having. Maybe she’d let my faux pas slip.

“What’s wrong with this gravy?” Peter asked.

I glanced over to see he had taken the mushroom gravy. “Oh, I made two gravies. One is a regular kind of gravy, and the other is a mushroom gravy. It’s for the potatoes.”

“Iknowwhat it’s for. Why are there two gravies?” Peter asked.

Brandon turned and shot a look at his mother. She didn’t return his gaze. I had no idea what that was about.

“Oh, the mushroom one is more for me. I’m a vegetarian.”

Peter rolled his eyes so dramatically that I thought they’d pop out the back of his head. “For crying out loud,” he said. “Susan or Brandon, get me another plate. I want this mess off of here.”

He was that offended with mushroom gravy? What had mushrooms ever done to him? I took that in while Brandon went to the kitchen to grab another plate for his dad. He slammed it down, and Peter melodramatically pushed his fullplate of food off to the side. I was about to take it away, but Brandon held up his hand, and I stopped. He was going to leave it there to annoy his dad. Total boss move.

Not to be outdone, Susan said, “So you are a chef?” As if she couldn’t possibly believe that based on our Christmas meal.

“Yes. I had a restaurant back in Minneapolis.”

“It had to close?” she said with manufactured sadness. She liked to play up her fake everything. How did Brandon put up with this?

“Yes. Making it in the restaurant business is hard.”

“Why did it close?” Peter asked, biting into a chunk of ham.