Page 76 of Play Along With Me
"It was 2012," I defend myself. "Everyone on the team had flow."
"'Flow,'" Audrey repeats, delighted. "Is that the technical term for hockey mullets? I'm learning so much today."
The conversation continues to flow naturally, my mother occasionally circling back to increasingly personal questions ("Have you thought about where you might want to live long-term, Audrey? Boston has wonderful neighborhoods for raising families"), which Audrey deflects with impressive skill.
"I'm very much a 'live in the moment' person," she explains. "My five-year plan currently extends to 'finish novel' and 'teach Mr. Darcy to high-five,' both of which are proving challenging."
"Mr. Darcy is her cat," I explain to my father, who looks confused.
"Named after the Jane Austen character," my mother adds knowledgeably. "From Pride and Prejudice. I saw him on Audrey's Instagram. Very handsome cat."
"He knows it, too," Audrey sighs. "The ego on that animal is staggering. He sits on my manuscript pages like a furry, judgmental editor."
"Maybe he's trying to help," my father suggests. "Editorial instincts."
"More likely he's trying to sabotage me so I remain his full-time servant," Audrey counters. "He's playing the long game."
As brunch progresses, I find myself increasingly drawn into the easy rhythm of conversation. Watching Audrey charm my parents while simultaneously shooting me private, amused glances when my mother says something particularly outrageous—it creates a sense of conspiracy between us that feels strangely intimate.
"Jake tells us you've never really followed hockey before," my mother says as we finish our main courses. "That must make it challenging, dating a professional player."
"It's actually refreshing," Audrey replies, giving me a genuine smile that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly. "Jake's the first person who's ever had to explain icing to me six separate times."
"She still doesn't get it," I add, returning her smile.
"Something about lines and going too fast," Audrey waves vaguely. "But I'm an excellent supportive girlfriend. I've already mastered yelling 'SHOOT!' at random intervals and looking outraged when the referee makes any call whatsoever."
My father laughs. "You're a natural."
"The key is to appear knowledgeable without actually knowing anything," Audrey explains seriously. "A skill I've perfected in many areas of life."
"Like what?" my mother asks, genuinely curious.
"Wine tasting, modern art, tax law, and now hockey," Audrey ticks off on her fingers. "I can convincingly nod and say things like 'interesting tannins' or 'challenging brushwork' or 'questionable deduction' with complete confidence despite understanding absolutely nothing."
"Don't forget 'aggressive forecheck,'" I add.
"Oh yes, very important hockey term," Audrey nods solemnly. "Means something about... checking... things... forwardly."
Even my mother laughs at this. "You're delightful, Audrey. So refreshingly honest about your dishonesty."
"It's my brand," Audrey agrees. "Transparent about my smokescreens."
As the meal winds down, my mother inevitably circles back to our relationship. "So, tell me how you two are managing with Jake's schedule? Hockey season must be difficult for dating."
"We're figuring it out," Audrey says smoothly. "Jake's very good about staying in touch when he's away." She glances at me with a look that clearly communicatesplay along.
"Audrey's schedule is pretty flexible," I add, following her lead. "The writing can happen anytime, and the bar shifts change weekly."
"I imagine road trips are the hardest," my father comments. "When I was traveling for work, that was always tough on your mother."
"We make it work," Audrey says, reaching for my hand on the table in a gesture that seems both calculated for myparents' benefit and surprisingly natural. "Technology helps. And absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"
Her hand is warm in mine, her fingers interlacing with an ease that belies the artifice of the situation. I find myself tightening my grip slightly, a silent thanks for her performance.
"That's a wonderful attitude," my mother approves. "So many young women these days expect constant attention. It's good that you understand the demands of Jake's career."
"It helps that I'm fundamentally a solitary creature," Audrey explains. "I can go days without human contact, just me and Mr. Darcy and whatever fictional world I'm creating. Jake's hockey schedule actually works well with my hermit tendencies."
