“Well then, Irv, can you teach Marlie so she can teach me? I’m not the best cook, but when I find something I like, I master it.” He slid a side-glance at Marlie, who did her best not to blush.
“Marlie knows how to make it. You just have to be really nice to her so she’ll cook for you.”
“Is that so?” He turned to Marlie with a frown. “I’m nice. I’ve been buying your meals, haven’t I? No lasagna for me?”
“Stop being a baby. When would we fit in a lasagna? Between the pizza and Thai food?”
“Or between the cheesecake and the chocolate soufflé.” He turned to Mona and Irv, who looked glued to the byplay. “Did you know your daughter is obsessed with sugar?”
“I know.” Mona sighed. “I’ve tried to get her to eat healthier, but it’s a losing battle.”
Steve muttered, “Everything with our mother is a battle.”
“What’s that, deputy?”
Steve wisely focused on his food once more.
Damon watched them as intently as her family watched him. ‘What’s that like, Steve, working for your mom?”
“She’s a ballbuster.”
“Ah, must be where your sister gets it from.”
“No kidding,” Irv said. He smiled at Marlie. “Such a compliment, honey.”
“Huh. I’m not sure about that.”
Mona glared at her, and Marlie had to laugh. “Oh, I see it now. That glare.”
Damon sipped his drink. “Nah. It’s the freckles. They sucker you into thinking you’ll be dealing with sugar and spice then pow. Right between the eyes with a punch that’s pure mean.” He grinned. “Just my type.”
Her brothers laughed. Will looked hard at Damon, sighed, and ate his food.
Her parents thought Damon had said something particularly witty because they convulsed into evil chortling Marlie didn’t appreciate. But at least her mother finally relented from her interrogation.
Dinner progressed nicely until afterward, when everyone stood to help clear the table. Steve pulled her aside. “Look, I’ll distract them while you grab him and run.”
“Oh, now you want to help?”
“Mom’s got that look. I don’t want her scaring him off before we play the Yetis on Sunday. And the Wolverines are the weekend after that. Then we have the playoffs.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, Damon asked me to go to a Portland game with him on the 20th, I think. Is that playoff weekend?”
“Seriously?” He gawked at her. “Can I go?”
“What? No. Heck, I’m not even sure I’m going to go.”
“You have to. Do you understand what this is? This is like if Steph Curry wanted to take me to a home game and I said no.”
“That would be a travesty.,”
“Yeah, a lot like you getting to go to a pro game with the Demon Sinclair.” He sighed. “I should be dating him.”
“I could put in a good word for you if you like.”
