"Okay, seriously." Alder twists around to look at me. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. You've been weird for days. You're working out like a maniac, and now you're turning down food." He pauses. "Did you hear from Sloane?"
Several heads turn at the sound of a woman’s name.
"Who'sSloane?" Odin asks.
"No one," I say quickly. "Just drop it."
"Is she the one who called you out for parking like an asshole?" Gunnar asks, grinning. "Because Uncle Tim told me and Em that story, and it's hilarious."
"Glad my humiliation is entertaining."
"Oh, come on." Gunnar tosses a piece of popcorn at me. "You fucked up, you got called out, you made it right. End of story."
If only it were that simple.
"He's been moping about this woman for weeks," Alder supplies, clearly trying to help but making it worse.
"Weeks?" My mom appears in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Tucker, you've been upset about a woman for weeks and didn't say anything?"
"I'm not upset?—"
"He's definitely upset," Odin confirms. "Look at him. He won't even eat ribs. This is serious."
“Maybe you all forgot that I lost a tooth,” I counter, but Lena starts explaining that the temporary crown she placed in my mouth should be entirely up to the task of chewing potato salad.
The attention is suffocating. Everyone is looking at me now, with various expressions of concern, curiosity, and amusement on their faces.
"Some of us have real problems, okay?" The words come out harsher than I intended. "Not everything is a joke."
The room goes silent. On the TV, Wyatt scores a goal and the commentators go wild, but no one here reacts.
My dad sets down his beer with deliberate care. "Outside, Tucky. Let’s chat.”
The back porch overlooks the city. The sun is starting to set, casting everything in gold and amber. My dad leads me to the far end, away from the windows where the family is undoubtedly watching.
"Sit," he says, pointing to one of the Adirondack chairs.
I comply. He takes the chair beside me, not looking at me, just watching the light fade across the glass buildings downtown.
"You want to tell me what's really going on?" His voice is calm, no judgment. Just concern.
"I screwed up."
"Yeah, I got that part. How badly?"
I take a deep breath. There's no point in delaying this. He'll find out eventually, and better he hears it from me first.
"I got someone pregnant."
To his credit, my dad doesn't react. Doesn't flinch or gasp or lecture. He just keeps staring at those skyscrapers, processing.
"The woman your brother mentioned? Sloane?"
"Yeah."
