Page 7 of My One & Goalie
“We’ll be home in a minute.” I keep my voice upbeat and reassuring, trying to sound like I have my shit together.
“But you said we were going to go to the store, remember? That we don’t have any food at home.”
Dammit.Of course he remembers that. Kid forgets to brush his teeth every other night, but repeats the one thing I’d like him to keep to himself.
“Mommy—” Jett’s voice tips up and every muscle in my lower back tenses, my chest tight.
“Jett, it’s fine. I can throw something together, don’t worry.”
“I’m kind of hungry, too, little man, now that you mention it.” Xander’s eyes slide to mine. “If it’s okay with your mom, we can get some food on the way home. But I don’t know where to go.”
“Oh, yes please! Mommy, can we? Please?” Jett begs and I’m torn. I would love to eat out tonight, but given my current financial circumstances it’s probably not the most responsible decision.
“I don’t know—” I fiddle with the rings. “We’ve already put your coach out enough tonight.”
“It’s no problem—I have nothing to eat at my place. What do you like, Jett?” Xander glances at the rearview.
“Pizza!” Jett bounces up and down, pointing at Starlight Pi, the local pizza joint.
“Pizza it is.” Xander whips the shiny Porsche into the closest parking spot near the restaurant.
I’m in no position to argue. The man’s hungry and he’s the driver. I’ll get Jett a slice of pizza and I’ll just drink water. That won’t cost more than ten dollars, right?
Making our way into the dim restaurant, Xander requests a table for three. The young, attractive hostess blushes as she gawks at him. To my surprise, he doesn’t pay any attention to her, instead keeping his focus on me and Jett.
We follow behind the hostess. She seats us at a booth and scurries away. Xander picks up a plastic menu and studies his options.
“What’s good here, Jett?”
“Everything!” Jett grins. “I love this place. We don’t go out very much, though. Mom always makes us eat at home.”
“Oh, wow. She must be a good cook.”
“Not really. We don’t have any money.”
My face flames as my child spills our financial woes to the gorgeous hockey star.
“Jett—” I cut him off. “It’s more economical to eat at home.”
Jett frowns, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. “But not as much fun.”
“That’s true. You want a slice of cheese pizza, right?” I change the subject quickly, hoping Jett stops talking about money.
“One slice? That’s it?” Xander scrubs the back of his neck. “Let’s get a whole pizza. You can always take anything extra home.”
“That’s not necessary.” Hot panic flares in my gut. I don’t want to owe this man any money. He’s already doing us a solid and giving us a ride home.
“I know. But it’s my treat.” Xander’s voice is warm and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Why is he being so nice to us? In my experience, there’s always a catch. But in this case, I’m not sure what to think.
The waitress appears and Xander orders the large pizza, a salad, a meatball sub, and waters for the table. I do the quick math and figure I owe him at least forty bucks.
Jett and Xander chat about hockey and I marvel as my normally shy child transforms into a bubbly, talkative boy. Xander grabs a crayon and scribbles a play on a paper placemat and Jett follows along, soaking it all in.
The food arrives, and the aromas of garlic and freshly baked dough have my stomach rumbling. Xander slides a piece of pizza onto a plate and hands it to Jett, then cuts a slice for me.
“Thanks.” I smile at Xander, accepting the food I swore I wasn’t going to eat. “Jett, be careful, it’s hot.”
“Right. That’s why you start with salad.” Xander plops a few pieces of lettuce onto Jett’s plate, along with some black olives and tomatoes. “Good?”