* * *
My mother can’t stop smilingas she grabs a few vegetables from the tray on the table. She’s a contrast to my father who hasn’t said much, nor blinked as he continues to stare at me.
“Carrot?” She offers me the plate. I can tell she went to the salon today, as her blonde hair is partially curled, and her nails seem freshly painted.
I shake my head. “No, thanks.”
“We are so happy you’re finally joining us for dinner. I know you’ve been busy, but we always appreciate when you make a little time for us.”
My lips stretch from her sentiment, and I glance at the wall of their dining room which has my signed jersey and a photo of me holding a trophy. “New?” I indicate with my head.
Dad chuckles. “You mean the shrine to our beloved, only, and firstborn son? Why, yes. That is exactly what your mother was going for.” Even with his face stern, he manages to execute sarcasm with perfection.
It causes me to grin. “Should we just lay this all out on the table? I’m not planning on taking over the business. You know it’s not about money, I have that from my own doing.”
My mother touches my hand on the table. “We know, it’s about what you enjoy. Right, Walter?” Her eyes aim a warning at my father.
He grabs hold of his scotch. “We let the boy enjoy his hockey career. He can’t take a little time to give back to this family?”
“You have people who are by far more suited to handling maple syrup,” I explain. “Besides, I’m still young and need to ensure I enjoy my life ahead.”
Maybe Violet was right, and this isn’t as bad as I had built up in my head. After the initial look from my father, walking into the dining room to a well-spread meal seemed like a piece of cake. Now words just flow out of me.
“You’re the only one who can carry on the name,” he nearly grumbles, “unless you get to work on settling down with someone to give us grandkids, but nothing you have done has ever indicated that’s on your mind. Hell, you’ve never even introduced us to a woman.”
“Now isn’t the time to pressure him to settle down.” My mother flashes him an unimpressed look before turning her attention to me. “Your father just had it in his heart that after your hockey career, you would spend more time with him to take on the company. But you kind of took us by surprise with your grand purchase.”
“You mean the hockey team? Yeah, because if I can’t play, then I still want to be involved. It’s too much in my blood,” I clarify.
“Of course, dear, but maybe you can find a way to balance your time a little.” She’s trying to offer an olive branch to the two men at this table.
“Heaven help us, Pearl, I probably would have to have a heart attack before Declan even considers.”
I rub my forehead, now getting aggravated. “This is beginning to feel like a bad idea that I ca—”
“No!” my mother cuts me off. “We have to start somewhere. Your father’s pride is just a little hurt that you don’t want to take interest in his company. After so many years of watching you succeed on the ice, we thought you could bring that passion to the corporate table now that life will quiet down for you.”
“I will succeed, on the business side of hockey. You both love maple syrup and dancing bears, while I love hockey; let’s just agree to disagree. I’m sure we will eventually find something that we can all enjoy together,” I say before I grab a stick of celery from the tray, because it’s desperate times if you grab the freaking celery.
“What a wonderful way to look at it. So tell us, what will you do with the Spinners?” Give this woman an award for trying hard.
I crunch on the celery. “I’m moving trainings out to Lake Spark for better focus. I’m going to get a house there too.”
She claps her hands together. “Get out of the city, that’s a great idea.”
My father makes a low grumbly sound. “A house there is always a good investment.” Damn, he just gave me a compliment.
“We should go visit, Walter,” my mom suggests.
“Suppose it’s a good spot for a weekend away from the suburbs. Haven’t been that way in years.” Huh, he’s more agreeable.
“Ford, remember him? He lives out there, along with a few other athletes,” I add.
“Always liked Ford, he’s a family man. You know, there used to be a maple syrup festival out there. Wonder whatever happened to it.” He seems to be lost in thought, although calm.
My mom smiles widely at me, as it seems we are finding neutral ground, and seeing them does make the situation slightly easier to handle. Of course, I feel guilt that I’m not following my old man, but looking at these two, I know with certainty that they do love me. We just need to navigate our road a little better, and I sure as hell shouldn’t shut them out.
A cheese plate is offered in front of me, and as I’m about to tuck in, my phone goes off on the table.
