Chris laughed. “I’ve been thinking about it.”
Debbie looked up from her phone. “If you go ring shopping, call me. I have ideas.”
“Deal,” Chris said.
“And when are you going to bring a nice girl home?” Mom asked.
“Oh, here we go,” I said. “We made it a whole half hour before I got the grandbaby talk.”
Mom snorted. “Who’s asking for grandchildren? I just don’t want you to be alone. It’s not good for you. Makes a man’s heart brittle.”
“My heart is fine, Mom. I promise.” I punched Troy’s arm. “Troy’s the one you need to harass about kids.”
“We’ve been trying,” Debbie said.
Mom got excited about that. Even Dad stopped watching the game to say he hoped it was a boy. I sat back, satisfied at how well I’d redirected the conversation away from my love life.
Mom didn’t need to know how active my social life was. To paraphrase an old quote, Manhattan was a river of women flowing past my door, and when I was thirsty, I drank. I sure as hell didn’t want to bring any of these women home, though.
“You should come out with us while you’re here,” Troy said.
I narrowed my gaze at him. “Where is there to go out around here?”
“We went to Tipsy’s last night,” Chris said. “It was like stepping back in time. It was a trip.”
“I never hung out there,” I said, shrugging. “I haven’t been around much since high school.”
“Whatever,” Troy said. “Come with us tomorrow anyway. It’ll be fun. We ran into a few people from school.”
“Like who?” I asked.
“Remember Steve Callahan?” Chris asked.
I barked out a laugh, remembering what we used to call him. “Taco Fell.”
“I forgot about that,” Troy said, chuckling.
“Why did you call him that?” Debbie asked.
“He fell down the cafeteria steps on taco day,” Chris said, grinning. “Well, he’s doing well. Didn’t fall once last night.”
I held up my palms. “As fun as it sounds, I won’t be here tomorrow. I’m heading back tonight, actually. I have games to cover.”
“What? You’re leaving tonight?” Mom turned around from the stove to point her spoon at me. “Lucas Austin Whitaker, you better be joking right now. You’ve only been home for five minutes.”
I looked down at my drink, unable to meet her gaze. “I have work, Mom.”
“You have more money than you can spend in one lifetime. Can’t you take a few days off for a change?” She put her hands on her hips. “I haven’t seen you in two years and you’re only here for a few hours?”
“Yeah,” I said, much less confidently. “That’s the plan.”
She turned back to the stove. “Will you be sitting with us at the table or should I just box it up to go?”
“We’re going to have a nice dinner,” I said. “I’m not rushing away.”
“Treating you mother like a drive-thru? I thought I raised you better than that but I guess I failed as a mother.” The woman could teach a master class in guilt trips.
“It’s a really busy time of year,” I said.
