“Jack,” my mom growls. “Enough.”
The man knows better than to anger Helene Baxter. She’s a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you.
“I––I have my own career—”
Dad scoffs again as he empties his glass, then raises his hand for our waitress.
“No.” Mom shakes her head. “No more.”
My dad is being an extra-large asshole tonight because he turns to Mom and says, “I’ll drink as much as I fucking want.”
“Fine.” She turns to face Emma and me, forcing a smile on her face. “So, you’re an engineering major?”
Dad scoffs again. I’m getting pretty damn sick of that sound.
The conversation gets stilted pretty fast especially since Dad did, in fact, get a second drink. We place our food orders and watch him order a third.
This is going to get ugly.
Uglier.
Holding Emma’s hand, I hear the buzz of a phone. It’s not mine so it must be hers. I watch as she reaches into her purse. When she sees the screen, she excuses herself. “It’s my mom. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as she steps away from the table, Dad says, “I’ve called in a favor.”
Here we go.
“Uh-huh.” I take a long pull from my beer.
“I got you a tryout with New York.”
“New York?” I can’t believe this shit.
“Dad—”
Holding up his giant paw, he stops me from finishing. “Next week. You fly out on Wednesday.”
“Jack...” My mom’s voice is short. “You said we’d talk about this.”
Ignoring her, he glares at me. “Enough of this fucking school bullshit, Eli. “It’s time you stopped fucking around.”
“I’m not fucking around.”
Dad glances in the direction that Emma just walked. “You’re distracted.”
“Jack…,” Mom again.
When he gives her his hand, that’s when she’s had enough. Tossing her cloth napkin on the table, Mom stands and follows Emma’s path.
Great. Now it’s just the two of us.
“I had to pull some strings to get this for you so there’s no backing out. I’ll text you the itinerary. I’ll already be in New York, so I’ll be able to watch your tryout. Make sure you don’t fuck it up.”
Jesus. “Dad. No.” I shake my head.
“Do it or I’m cutting you off. Your friends will have to find a new place to live.”
“Dad.” Why the hell does he have to be like this? “Come on.”
