“So, Mr. Mason,” Mr. Walters released my shoulder. “I hope you like pepperoni.”
Three rounds of Uno later, lots of baseball talk, and six slices of pizza, and I was alive. I don’t know how Brielle felt about things. By round two of Uno, she had opened her book and was reading when she wasn’t laying down a card. Her parents were cool though, even if Mr. Walters rarely smiled and still made me feel like I was either going to be convicted as a felon before the night was over, or hung by my toes in their basement.
“So what are your plans after high school?” Mr. Walters asked. Apparently, to even date his daughter, a guy had to have plans for his future career.
“I want to play baseball, sir.”
“College?”
“I’m hoping to get into the Minors.”
“So, skipping college?” Mrs. Walters inserted. She was nice, had a kind smile, and reminded me a bit of my own mom.
“You realize most guys in the Minor League last about three years max before they’re released.” Mr. Walters eyed me.
Brielle looked up from her book.
Reece laid down a reverse card. “Dad, I don’t think Brooks is stupid.”
“I never said he was. I just wanted to know if he had a reasonable outlook on the odds of his success.”
Harsh.
I nodded. “Yeah. My parents and I have talked about it.”
“I’m encouraging Reece to do college baseball. He’ll be expanding his education while he’s—”
“Oh my gosh, Dad!” Brielle broke in, a look of utter exasperation on her face. “Leave Brooks alone.”
A small grin quirked the side of Mr. Walters’s mouth.
“Leave him alone, Troy,” Mrs. Walters gave her husband a playful slap on his arm.
Mr. Walters shrugged. “I’m just saying. Guys have big dreams to make it to the Majors, but the odds are small. The media and the entertainment world today make everything seem possible, and it’s not realistic. You’re more likely to die in a war than make the Majors.”
“Dad!” Brielle shut her book. She looked a little feisty. Some color was in her face, and she glared at Mr. Walters.
“Ok.” He leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head, his elbows sticking out. “Here’s how it’s going to work. You want to date my daughter? Then you’re going to be transparent with her mother and me. You don’t go upstairs to her room.”
“Gosh, no.” I shook my head. Death wish, anyone?
“You don’t watch movies alone downstairs.”
This was really uncomfortable.
I glanced at Reece. He was biting back a grin as he made an exaggerated show of studying his Uno cards.
“Brielle knows our family’s standards, and I expect you to respect them.”
“Yes, sir.” All this for extra credit? I met Brielle’s eyes, and she looked a bit terrified that I was going to run. Yeah. She had stuff at stake, too. Like her entire high school career of freedom and trust from her parents.
“Do you go to church?” Mr. Walters asked.
“I do.” I nodded.
“Youth group?”
“Yes.” I nodded again.
