Third and Long: A Sports Romance (17 page)

“Well there’s not much to tell Jessica, I—”

“My wife would like to know how frequently your parents have been in jail,” my dad asks.

I drop my fork. When it hits the plate everyone looks at me. I’m actually stunned. My parents turned from welcoming to cutthroat in a matter of eight hours. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t a mix of complete embarrassment and utter anger right now. I’m looking at Tamber with the look of deepest regret that I can muster.

“It sounds like you already know,” Tamber says, the words catching in her throat.

In my mind I’m screaming out to stop this, yet no words come out of my mouth.

“Indeed,” my dad says.

While they are both cutthroat, my mom is capable of at least some semblance of humanity. My dad? He didn’t make billions playing nice.

“My dad has done time for several alcohol related offenses. All before I was born.”

“And yet your mother is currently incarcerated,” my dad says.

This time when I look at Tamber, she looks away from me. Her face is bright red. This is a little detail that she didn’t mention. In her version, her mom was the hero of the story, giving up everything to raise her kids. Now she’s in jail?

I’m expecting Tamber to flip me off and walk out. I totally deserve it. I should have known my dad would make a scene. Stupid me thought he would play nice for a weekend.

Tamber looks right at my dad with a bit of anger in her own eyes, and I brace myself for impact.

“Yes Mr. Oliver, I am not good enough for your son. My parents are a mess. They come from nothing. I come from nothing. I’ve worked hard every single day of my life despite what my parents are because I never want to be like them. I promised my mom that I would never end up like her. But you know what? Your son is special,” she says.

She looks right at me when I say it, and now I’m the one who’s having trouble looking her in the eye. Yet at the same time I can tell that a million things are going on in that amazing brain of hers.

“Your son is worth breaking promises for. He’s one of a kind. I get that you want him to marry someone from your class of people. And I’m sorry that I’m not one of them. I am all I can be,” she says.

Jeffrey interrupts the incredible awkwardness to deliver the main course. No one is paying attention to the meal at this point. Everyone is reading the pure emotion on Tamber’s face. I don’t think anyone has talked to my parents like that in years. If this was a movie, my dad would stand up, shake her hand, and congratulate her on having the moxie to say something like that. Unfortunately, this is real life.

Suddenly my phone goes off. My parents
hate
cell phones at the table. Mine is on full fucking volume too. The worst part is that Cam is the one texting me. I know it’s him because 2-Live Crew’s Hoochie Mama blares through the dining hall.

Let me be clear. It doesn’t just blare, it absolutely echoes because of the ridiculous size of this room. You know the part that goes “big booty hoes!” Yeah. Imagine my face.

For a very very brief moment, everyone forgets what Tamber said to my dad.

“Well, that’s certainly something. Logan,” my mom says looking at my dad, “you’d think with all the time they spend on those phones, someone would develop an etiquette app for them.”

She stares me down until I put my phone away, and then she looks to Tamber. Etiquette. Who the fuck needs it?

“Speaking of which, honey, we need to talk about your style of dress,” mom says.

All of the sudden, Tamber’s gorgeously cute face lights up like the goddamn sun. Even as my mom berates her, she can’t stop smiling like an idiot. I’m kind of wondering if she’s having a stroke.

“Is something amusing you?” my mom asks.

“No I’m sorry. I just had a thought,” Tamber says.

“Care to share with the table?” my dad says.

Tamber launches into an explanation about her marketing class, her project and especially how The Party Girls are all useless lumps who she can never count on. My parents actually listen intently. They are quite interested in it all. My mom is especially pleased when Tamber starts to describe how the app for etiquette could be perfect.

Jeffrey comes around and refills everyone’s wine. When he gets to me he leans over and says, “Good timing Master Logan.” Apparently I’m not the only one who felt the tension in the room.

Tamber talks for about twenty minutes straight about what could be done with an app for people like her. She’s bringing in all kinds of street wisdom and alternate takes on stuff that my parents take for granted.

In that span it seems like everyone except me forgot the fucking atomic bomb that my dad dropped about Tamber’s mom being in jail. Not like I’m going to bring it up.

“So tell us Tamber. What first attracted you to Logan?” my dad says. Any brevity in the room is gone as we move right back into another question and answer section.

“My muscles obviously,” I say trying to help her out of this one.

Tamber tells the story of how we met and ended up going on a first date. The entire time I’m incredibly awed by the way she tells a story. Obviously she embellishes a bit here and there to make it sound like we actually fell in love and got engaged.

Either way she’s so eloquent and interesting, and I find myself completely believing every word of it even though I know the parts that are fake. From the way her mocha hair bounces on her shoulders to the way her eyes light up when she talks about our first date, I find myself unable to look away from her.

“Awfully fast to rush into an engagement,” my mom says.

“You know the one when you find him!” Tamber says smiling.

“Or when you find out his wealth,” my dad mutters.

“Sorry?” Tamber asks.

“You see dear, we don’t want Logan marrying someone like you because we don’t want him marrying a gold digger,” my mom says.

Mom never retracts her claws completely.

“Come on, mom. That’s not fair,” I say.

“Isn’t it? You get engaged the day after your first date at a very expensive restaurant? She comes from nothing? Use your head Logan.”

Talk about tonal whiplash. I thought they were starting to like her. False sense of security and all that.

Either way now it’s actually personal. They’re attacking Tamber on a level that’s real even if our engagement is fake.

“That’s enough,” I say, my voice loud and commanding like I’m calling out a play in a hostile stadium whose fans are trying to drown out my voice. “I love Tamber and that should be good enough for you.”

The word love comes out of my mouth way too fucking easy. Tamber looks right at me when I say it. A brief smile crosses her face. I don’t think she meant me to see it but I did.

“Love. Who marries for that,” my dad says throwing down his napkin. He stands up and stomps out of the room.

“Now you’ve upset your father,” my mom says to me.

Jeffrey comes by to clear our plates as we all sit in silence for a moment. My mom sips her wine and rubs her forehead. Tamber keeps her head down.

“Look darling, it’s nothing personal, but this marriage cannot happen,” my mom says to Tamber. “It would be best if you left in the morning.”

Somehow the expression on Tamber’s face is priceless. I’m on the edge of my seat, embarrassed and mad as hell at my parents, yet Tamber is apparently quite content.

“Jessica. Mrs. Oliver. Hypothetically, what would happen if Logan and I were to be married?” Tamber asks. “Or not even me, just any girl not of your choosing.”

My mom gives her a hard look. Then she looks to the door to see if my dad is coming back. When it is clear that he isn’t, my mom’s hard look softens. She speaks to Tamber almost like a mother to a daughter.

“Oh sweetie. It’s not your fault. My husband has a certain way about him. You must understand that from the moment of his birth, we expected Logan to take over the family business. Part of that is marrying correctly. Please don’t take that the wrong way.”

I roll my eyes. Regardless of what Tamber said earlier, my mind is made up. Football or nothing. Fuck this. I take another long sip of wine.

“And football? You aren’t proud of your son’s accomplishments?” Tamber asks.

I can’t believe how she’s sticking up for me after all that I’ve put her through.

My mom sighs heavily. “The problem is that Oliver Oil needs a Logan to run it. It’s his pride and joy and his greatest wish is to pass it down to his son. A wish that he’s had much longer than seeing Logan play football or anything like that.”

Damn that’s actually kind of poignant.

Jeffrey brings dessert around as if nothing has happened.

Talk about emotional eating.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tamber

Business me
is the only thing holding it all together. Fuck them for asking me about my parents like that. To think I walked into that dining room thinking that I loved Logan only to get grilled about my jailbird mom. That little detail that I didn’t tell Logan. Not like I’m obligated since we aren’t actually engaged.

Jessica gracefully dismisses me in the absence of Logan’s father. His mom’s a real piece of work, but his dad’s obviously the chief asshole. And Logan set me up for that. To think I started to think that I almost started to love him.

Rather than waiting for Jeffery, I find my own way back to my room in the guest wing. Tomorrow I’m headed home. I’ve had just about enough of the Olivers.

Inside, I grab my phone and put a ton of notes in about the idea that Jessica gave me. An app for etiquette. That’s something I could have used all weekend. At least one good thing came out of the dinner. My family’s dirty laundry might be a fair trade off for getting my homework done. Focusing on the details of the etiquette app is the only thing stopping me from breaking shit in this room.

Fucking Gwen. I asked her to dress me nice, and she gives me the kind of dress that a cocktail waitress wears in a strip club. If the Olivers weren’t giving me shit about my mom, then they were giving me shit about the dress.

Looking at myself in the mirror now, I can see why. The dress hugs my tits like I’m not even wearing anything, and the bottom barely covers my sex.

Jesus Christ Gwen how do you wear dresses like this?

Before dinner I thought I looked hot in it. For some reason I gave a shit about Logan liking my dress. Gwen texts me back.

Did his boner bust through his pants or what?

I wore it to dinner with his parents.

She doesn’t hesitate to text me back.

Oh shit no you didn’t. That’s a party dress babe.

Sure now you tell me. Conveniently Gwen didn’t actually pack anything more appropriate. I could have gone to dinner in the crotchless panties and see-through bra that apparently needed to come along with me for some reason. Remind me to get a new best friend.

I’m about to change when there’s a knock on the door. I’m assuming it’s Jeffrey. Obviously, I broke protocol by wandering through the house all by my lonesome. Carolyn’s comment about the house being wired with cameras comes back to me.

When I crack the door open, Logan is standing there in possession of the saddest face that I’ve ever seen and a handful of flowers that he obviously took from some vase elsewhere in the house.

“I’m changing,” I say.

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“Your parents hated this dress.”

“Granted. But I like it.”

Easy for him to say. He dressed in formal slacks and a fitted off-white dress shirt with matching tie. I’m sure Jeffrey picked it out for him.

I throw my phone back on the bed’s velvet duvet of the bed and step out into the hall. Logan is totally checking me out. No matter how many times we agree to be nothing more than friends, one of us has to go and start something.

“I’m mad at you, you know,” I say, crossing my arms, and leaning against the door. Sending the right signals has never been my strong suit.

“I’m not super happy with you either,” he says.

That makes me laugh. Actually it’s more like a snort.

“That’s rich Logan. Did you have your dirty laundry paraded around the dinner table? Actually you know what? I’m really mad at you.”

My mind was so occupied with etiquette ideas, that I didn’t even consider how upset I should really be. That whole dinner was bullshit! I’m not actually even engaged to the guy!

“You didn’t tell me your mom was the one in jail Tamber. I didn’t know my dad was going to bring that up,” he says.

I’m so fucking livid with him right now. I’m two seconds away from walking back into my room, waiting until morning, and then getting out of here.

The stupidest part is that I don’t owe any of these people anything! I can walk away at any moment, so why am I even putting up with this bullshit?

“You should have stood up for me Logan.”

“I wanted to, but dad…”

“Intimidates you?”

“See that’s why I like you! You get me. Could you imagine me trying to explain to the three hundred pound guys on my team that my old ass dad intimidates me? Most of those guys have actually, physically kicked their dads’ asses.”