“You’re not eighteen yet.”
“Not long now.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“If you don’t hassle me about the beer, I’ll set the table.”
“Deal.”
I pull the potatoes out of the oven and set them on the counter to cool while Evan moves around me to set the table.I grab two plates from the cupboard, heap them with food, and carry them over.
“Don’t forget the butter,” Evan reminds me.
“What are you going to do with the butter?”
“If you want me to eat your cobs, I have to drown them in butter first.”
I roll my eyes, set the plates down, then get butter for my son and a beer for myself before finally sitting.
Evan starts eating right away, and I watch him swallow everything without even chewing.
“How are classes going?”
“For fuck’s sake!”
“What did I say?”
“I don’t want to talk about college.”
“Tell me something about training, the team…”
“Do you really care?”
“I do.”
“I already talk about it enough with Ryan.”
“Of course,” I say as I cut the chicken.
“Besides, you’ve never been interested in sports.”
“I used to play some too, you know?”
“Yeah, sure.Twenty years ago.”
“It hasn’t been twenty years.”
“Whatever.”
Typical Evan answer.I wonder how many more dinners he’ll give me before he cuts me out of his life for good.
“And what do you have to do tonight?”I ask, hoping this topic will be less boring.
“I have a thing.”
“A date?”
Evan shoots me a sideways look.
