“You have to tell Mom and Dad.” I know he’s right but I am angry at him for saying it. “Yes they’ll freak out, but Nash. Come on.”
“Only if you back me against Dad,” I kick at one of the broken flagstones that make up the ancient patio. “He’s going to try and micromanage this whole thing and I want to be in charge of all the decisions. All of them.”
“Fair. I’ll back you.”
He looks at me and I look at him and then, before I can dodge him, he’s hugging me. It feels… great. But I still step away. “Don’t be all girly about it. I have Tenley for that.”
Crew sniffs reining in his emotions again, and then he snickers. “Tenley is more of a man than I could ever hope to be.”
I have no choice but to laugh. "Yeah. She kind of is."
A bird chirps in the canopy of trees above us. I sit back down on the sofa, pulling my phone out of the pocket of the jeans I'm wearing. They're Crew's so they feel weird but it made more logistical sense to drive straight here from Tenley's apartment than it did to head all the way over the loft and then back here. So I came in my suit and borrowed a T-shirt and jeans from my brother. I shoot a quick text to my parents who are staying in San Diego and I ask for a FaceTime.
Dad is video calling me less than five minutes later, and with Crew sitting beside me, I gently break the news of my medical hiccup. That’s what I’ve decided to label it. Not a hurdle. Not a drama. Not anything more than a blip. A hiccup. Mom breaks down. Dad gets angry I didn’t have him go to New York with me. I am firm but gentle with them and they finally both calm down. Still, the worry on their faces is as deep as I have ever seen. I feel like I just aged them twenty years and I hate myself for it.
I'm not surprised when they announce they're coming back to L.A. Crew isn't either and offers them a guest room at his place. We decide we'll do dinner tonight, as a family. "Wives and girlfriends welcome, obviously," Dad says before he ends the video chat.
I stand up and stretch, a beam of warm sunlight has sliced through the trees and I turn my face up to it. “You didn’t flinch,” Crew says. “Not so much as even an eye roll when Dad called Ten your wife.”
“She is,” I reply. “And she’s kind of my girlfriend.”
“Shit!” Crew chokes out. “Liv said you two were… making the most of your time together but I didn’t think… I mean, you’ve got a very strict life plan.”
“Yep. And in what? Less than three months one tiny, blonde, big mouth torched it,” I reply.
“I heard that!” Tenley’s voice filters out the open patio doors.
I smile as I see her arms raise, middle fingers extended, from her position sprawled on one of the couches in the den. Liv laughs from where she’s stretched out on the other couch. Crew watches the interaction with a weird look of awe on his face.
“So you’re… staying married?”
“No!” we both say at the same time.
I roll my eyes and pull us a little farther away from the open doors and eavesdropping Garrisons. “It would be weird to stay married… I think. I mean, we should date first, right?”
“I don’t know. I mean, technically, yeah. But there’s something poetic about the world’s biggest rule follower breaking all of them for love,” Crew says and I glare. He puts a hand over his heart like he’s swooning.
I shove him. “You suck.”
He laughs as I walk back into the house. Tenley lifts her legs so I can sit on the couch and then she promptly drops them into my lap. I roll my eyes. She winks. “Good job with the sharing, Nash-Hole.”
“I dare you to stop calling me that,” I counter.
“Might have to lose that one.” She sits up, leans in, and kisses my cheek. “Nash-Hole.”
Mom picks up a whole slew of food from Maggiano at The Grove. It’s way too many carbs for playoffs but I don’t argue. She thankfully also picked up a huge salad and I try not to think of the calories in their signature dressing as I load it onto my plate with some lasagna and baked ziti. We sit in Crew’s dining room. Liv, Crew, Dad on one side and Mom, me, and Tenley on the other. Mom tucks her chair up close to mine.
The meal starts off clogged with heavy feelings that no one dares to speak, but Tenley and Liv start telling stories about growing up Garrison and they get Dad talking about some of the antics from his hockey teams, and by the time we're on dessert, it's like I never told them that I have a squatter in my leg that may or may not be trying to kill me. I'm laughing so hard at some story Tenley is telling about the pranks her brother and male cousins used to play on each other, that I don’t even look at the call display when my phone rings. I just say hello.
“Nash Westwood?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Doctor Marchand.”
“Hi Dr. Marchand,” I say and the room immediately falls silent.
I stand up from the table and walk toward the window. I know if I leave the room every single one of them will follow so I just stand in the corner and close my eyes instead of looking out at the scenery. “Are the results back?”
