Page 69 of Play Along With Me
"I'm not really here enough to worry about decorating," I explain. "Between practices, games, travel..."
"And spending time with Audrey," my mother adds with a knowing smile. "Speaking of which..."
Here it comes.
"...she's just delightful, Jake. Absolutely delightful. So funny and expressive! Not at all like most of the girls you've dated."
"She's definitely unique," I agree carefully, busying myself with arranging bagels on one of my three plates.
"And the way she looks at you!" My mother sighs dreamily, dropping onto my couch and pulling out her phone. "I got the most wonderful candid photo of you two last night. Look!"
She thrusts her phone at me. On the screen is a photo I didn't even realize she'd taken—Audrey and me at the restaurant, our heads tilted toward each other as I laugh at something she's saying. My expression is...different. More relaxed than I usually look in photos, genuinely amused rather than posed.
"See how happy you look?" my mother presses. "I haven't seen you laugh like that in years."
The thing is, she's not wrong. I do look happy in the photo—happier than I've felt in a long time. Which is bizarre, considering the entire evening was an elaborate charade.
"It's a nice picture," I acknowledge, handing the phone back. "But Mom, it's still very new. Don't go planning the wedding yet."
Too late, I realize my tactical error. The mere mention of "wedding," even in jest, causes my mother's eyes to light up like she's just won the lottery.
"I would never!" she protests, unconvincingly. "Though I did notice Audrey has lovely hands. Long fingers. Perfect for a marquise-cut diamond. Just an observation."
My father, bless him, recognizes my silent plea for help. "Patricia, let the boy breathe. They just started dating."
"But when it's right, it's right," she insists. "And Jake, honey, it's so obvious she's been good for your career too. I bet she's very supportive."
I nearly choke on my coffee. "My career?"
"Well, yes! Look at the timing! You start dating Audrey, and suddenly you get called up to the Saints! She must be such a positive influence."
The call-up happened before I even met Audrey, but correcting this misconception would require explaining our entire fake relationship, which is a can of worms I'm not prepared to open.
"Mom, my call-up was because of years of hard work and Warszawski's injury," I say instead. "Not because of anyone I'm dating."
"Of course, of course," she agrees, in a tone that suggests she believes no such thing. "But behind every successful man is a woman who—"
"Patricia," my dad interrupts gently. "Remember what we discussed about giving Jake space?"
My mother looks momentarily chastened. "I'm just so happy for him, Robert."
"I know, dear. We both are." He turns to me. "The apartment is great, son. Good location, close to the rink. Smart choice."
"Thanks, Dad," I say gratefully.
My mother, incapable of staying on any topic that isn't Audrey for more than thirty seconds, pulls out her phone again. "I've been looking at Audrey's Instagram—"
"You what?" I interrupt, genuinely alarmed. "How did you even find her?"
"Oh, it wasn't hard! I just searched her first name and 'Boston bartender writer' and there she was! She has such a unique style, doesn't she? All those vintage dresses and that adorable cat! Mr. Darcy, right? From Pride and Prejudice? Shemust be very literary. Do you two read together? Your father and I used to have a little book club, just the two of us—"
"Mom," I cut in, feeling a headache building. "Please tell me you haven't been commenting on her posts."
My mother's sudden interest in her bagel tells me everything I need to know.
"What did you write?" I ask, dreading the answer.
"Nothing inappropriate!" she defends. "Just a few likes and a comment about how lovely she looked in that green dress. And maybe a small mention about how excited I am that my son has found someone so special."
