Page 10 of Season's Schemings
“Oh, it’sSebnow, is it?”
“He told me to call him that,” I mumble down at my hands.
Jax grins. “Well, I’ll make sure to dropSebinto the conversation if I have the displeasure of running into Adam anytime soon.”
“Ugh, I hope you don’t. Did you hear that Mom and Richard had dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Plumlee last week and Adam was there with Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, about that…” he grimaces. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but your mom also told me that Adam invited them to the engagement party on Saturday night.”
“Of course he did.” I snort-laugh. This isn’t a huge surprise—like I said, our families are best of friends. “I bet they’ll go. Also, when were you talking to Mom?”
This earns me an eyeroll. “She dropped by the bar yesterday.”
By “the bar,” Jax means the uber-cool, industrial-looking bistro downtown where he’s a bartender. Jax is the kind of guy who works to live, rather than lives to work—again with the trying to be nothing like his dad. He’s super content working night and weekend hours so long as he gets to take off in his campervan during the week whenever he pleases.
“She came in for dinner?” I ask, surprised. Mom favors tablecloths, multiple place settings, and frilly napkins at the establishments she frequents.
“Absolutely not. She came by to drop off a bunch of supplements and self-help books for single ladies for you.”
“What?!” I demand. “What did you do with them?”
“Threw ‘em all in the trash.”
“I knew you were my favorite family member.”
“And you’re the only family member I tolerate.” Jax smirks, then turns the volume up on the TV. “Now. Shall we watch your new buddy Seb crush the Eagles or what?”
“Watch hockey?” I make a face and grab the remote from him. “No way! Let’s see what’s on the Hallmark channel. Christmas movie season is well underway, you know.”
Jax groans and puts his head in his hands. “I love you… but I can’t wait until you move out.”
* * *
I have Friday off, then work over the weekend, and before I know it, I have one week down at my new job… and I have to say it’s flown by in a nice, mostly testosterone-free way. I do not think of Adam, nor do I look at his Instagram once (progress!).
I also have no further run-ins with number 19 or any other numbered jerseys, much to my relief.
And, if I’m being entirely honest, a little to my disappointment. Only because he seemed to like my yogurt parfait so much, of course.
Stefani is a nice boss. She’s a few years older than me, with round cheeks and long, dark hair that she always wears braided. She’s basically everything I want to be when I grow up—working a job she adores, commanding the respect of everyone she works with while still being universally liked. On top of this, I never feel stupid when she explains things to me. And she lets me play Christmas music in the kitchen, even though it’s only mid-November.
I have to say, for the first time since Adam and I broke up, I’m starting to feel somewhat… normal again.
The team will be traveling to Vegas later in the week for their Thanksgiving game and Stef is planning to travel with them. Meaning I’ll get the holiday off. I plan to spend it as busy as possible to distract myself from the fact thatThe Incidentepisode ofBaking Bonanzais due to air the night of the holiday itself.
I’ve agreed to go hiking with Jax on Thanksgiving, which is probably not my smartest move. But I’m also going to try to perfect my new gluten-free, dairy-free, refined-sugar-free Snickers bar recipe, which I’m super excited about. If I get it right, I might even ask Stef to take a look at it to consider for the team “treat” menu. Jake Griswold—who’s a notorious fighter and wears a permanent scowl—apparently has an incurable sweet tooth.
After our hike, Jax and I are going to brave turkey dinner with our parents. I’m glad he’ll be there when my mother inevitably comments on how much ham I’ve eaten, and talks about how svelte Elizabeth looked at the engagement party, which she and my stepdaddidend up attending (called it).
Some people would think that maternal loyalty would come into play in a situation like this one, but those people have not met Kaitlyn Grainger.
Speaking of which—we’re obviously going to gun it out of the parentals’ place before the episode airs later in the evening so I can avoid a bloody World War III taking place all over the living room of my mother’s pristine home.
All in all… I don’t think it’s going to be the entirely awful Thanksgiving I envisioned after the breakup.
And so, I’m in a relatively cheerful mood when I walk into the kitchen on Tuesday morning and crank up “Santa, Baby.” I wash my hands, put on my apron, and get to work slicing papaya, pineapple and watermelon for the gut-friendly açai bowls that are on the menu for today’s late, post-skate second breakfast.
I’m so lost in my humming and chopping that it takes me awhile to notice that Stef is late.