Page 86 of Taking Sides

“Victor says your team isn’t having any better luck than his.”

“That is not what I said,” Victor amends.

“You said they were losing, did you not?” Dad shoots him a look that begs him to argue.

“We are having a slow start, but the kids are great and we’re going to turn it around,” I say a little more confidently than I feel. “The same way I’m confident Victor and his team will.”

Dad’s brows lift as he makes a face that suggests he might not agree, but he doesn’t say otherwise. A small concession.

“Tell me about your new girlfriend,” I say, once again changing the topic. “I thought she was joining us.”

The server sets my soda down, and I can’t pick it up fast enough. The cold, sweet liquid is the best part of this dinner so far. And it’s just as good as I remembered.

Dad takes his time before answering. Whether he’s deciding how much to tell me or just doing his part to help me learn the virtue of patience, I can’t tell.

“Her name is Brenda,” he says finally. “And something came up. You’ll meet her next time.”

As painful as this dinner feels, I’m not sure there will be a next time. I think I’m good for one of these visits maybe every two years or so and Brenda likely won’t last that long.

“And she’s a pilot?”

He nods, but says nothing else before the server goes over the nightly specials and then takes our order.

I go first, then check my phone under the table. I still haven’t heard back from Conrad.

When Victor notices me scrolling, he smirks, then asks the server if he can hear the specials again. I don’t know why he’s buying me time, but I take it to send another text to Conrad to see what he’s doing. Hopefully, he found something more enjoyable to do tonight than sitting through an uncomfortable family dinner.

I love my family, I do, but our time together is draining. Dad is tough. He always has been. I never met his dad, my grandfather, but from the stories I’ve heard, he was a stern man with a lot of rules and expectations. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Dad raised us alone, which I’m sure wasn’t easy. He put us in sports and told us hard work was the answer and that we should aim to be the best at whatever we did. He wanted kids he could be proud of. I suppose all parents do.

Victor and I rebelled under that pressure in our own ways. Victor was a natural at nearly every sport he played, but since Dad loved hockey, so did he. He craved Dad’s attention and approval. He put all his energy into hockey and in the process took on the brunt of Dad’s expectations. As for me, when it was clear I wasn’t going to be a star hockey player, or a star athlete of any sport for that matter, I switched to focusing my attention on school and being the family mediator.

I did whatever I could to support Victor, but I’m not sure I succeeded at easing the pressure he feels to be the best.

The three of us make small talk while we wait for the food, then eat in silence. Victor orders a third drink. He’s not going to be much for company tonight. Dad has put him in a terrible mood.

“Have you thought any more about selling your mother’s house?” Dad asks after we pass on dessert menus.

“No,” I say without explanation. When we first found out that she’d left the house to me and Victor, that was Dad’s first, and only, suggestion: Sell the house. He didn’t have a lot to say when I left. Like my brother, I imagine my dad assumed I’d hightail it back before they could miss me.

“I hear you’re renovating it?” He’s switched from vodka to an after-dinner coffee.

“Nothing that drastic. Just small projects that Mom started and didn’t finish.”

He lifts the mug. “Sounds like her. She had big ideas but rarely saw things through. Like raising her children.”

“Dad, can we not?” My nerves are fried, and I’m running out of energy and patience. “Not tonight. I’m only here for a few days, and I don’t want to spend it arguing over someone who isn’t here to defend herself.”

I take a deep breath. It’s more than I usually say to stand up for Mom. I learned a long time ago that there was no point. I’m not even sure I’m right in defending her, but talking shit about her isn’t the bonding experience he seems to think it is.

“Sure.” He accepts the bill from the server with a polite nod.

I’m antsy to get out of here and go cuddle Bella. I check my phone again and get a jolt of excitement when Conrad’s name pops up with a text.

Conrad

I can’t wait until Thursday. How about tonight? Are you free after dinner?