Page 68 of Playing His Game

Thankfully, the house cleared out somewhat by dinner time. Adam was introverted enough to breathe a sigh of relief when he sat around the table with just Mo, his parents, Chels, her husband, and Chuckie.

A shower and time spent talking cars with Chuckie had done Mo a world of good. He wasn’t exactly himself again, but at least he was no longer doing an impression of a shrinking violet.

It also helped that they were eating with four adults trained in how to get shy kids to loosen up and join in.

“Wait, you’re all teachers?” Mo asked over lasagna.

“For our sins,” Dad said with a smile.

Chels kicked Adam’s feet under the table. “Didn’t you tell him anything about us?”

“Of course I did,” he protested. He was sure he’d told Mo as much.

“He did,” Mo rushed to say. “He mentioned your parents and you. Guess he forgot to say that it was a requirement for marrying in too.”

Chels laughed. “Not hardly. Mum and Dad were so disappointed in me for not marrying a man who was rich or handy.” She winked.

“You saying being able to decorate a room, on theme, and with only construction paper, Crayola markers, and glitter isn’t a handy skill?” her husband, Simon, said dryly.

“Doesn’t fix a leaky faucet or a wonky cabinet door, though, does it?”

“Nah, but that’s why I married you.”

Adam smirked. “I was gonna say, Chels—are you letting other people touch your power tools now?”

“Go near my garage and meet the consequences,” she shot back, waving her fork at him.

He made no promises.

Next to him, Mo shifted awkwardly. “So you’re the black sheep of the family, then? Jock instead of nerd?”

Chels laughed loudly, and everyone else at the table chuckled.

“Uncle Adam isn’t a sheep,” Chuckie declared with a frown.

“It’s an expression, sweetie,” Simon explained. “To be a black sheep is to be different from the rest of the family.”

“But Uncle Adam isn’t different. He has red hair too!”

Adam leaned down to press a kiss to Chuckie’s head. “You’re right, Chucks. Definitely not a black sheep.”

Chels agreed. “Besides, Uncle Mo doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He hasn’t met Teddy yet, so he doesn’t know that Adam isn’t the jock of the family.”

“Uncle Teddy’s a bro’s bro,” Chuckie agreed, clearly quoting someone. Chels, Simon, and Adam snorted, avoiding eye contact so as to not lose it.

“Well,” Mom said, “that’s one way of putting it.” She eyed her children as if trying to determine who was responsible.

“And a Jim bro,” Chuckie added. “Mum, who’s Jim?”

“Not that kind of Jim, baby. A gym bro”—the words came out only slightly strangled—“is a guy who likes to go to the gym and use the exercise equipment.”

“Oh. Yeah. He likes to take pictures at the gym.”

Oh God, one of them was going to injure themselves trying to hold in their laughter.

“Yes,” Simon said, straight-faced. “Uncle Ted likes a gym selfie.”

Chuckie nodded, still serious.