Standing Toe to Toe - Weston Parker Page 0,46

rude. And when that someone showing up is that same someone who’s probably been trash talked around the dinner table for the last ten years, it’s even more uncomfortable.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get in the car. I have not been trash-talking you for ten years. Eight, maybe, but not ten.”

Kathryn smiled and got in the car. She waited patiently, her hands resting on her thighs, as I called my mother up and told her the news. Kathryn was coming over for dinner.

Luckily, I didn’t put the call on speaker because my mother’s confusion and surprise were palpable. She asked several times if this was the Kathryn who’d made my work life a nightmare at every turn for the last decade.

“Yes, the same one,” I said, laughing nervously. “She’s here in the car with me now and we’re just leaving Waterfront.”

“Your sister wants to know if you took a bad fall and hit your head,” my mother said. “Why are you bringing her? You know I’d never say no but I don’t understand.”

“Mom,” I said firmly, “we’ll be there in a little over an hour, okay?”

“Fine,” my mother said. “Drive safe. We’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I hung up the phone and flashed Kathryn a smile. “See? No trouble.”

“She thinks you’re crazy.”

“She’s protective. She knows you’ve been bullying me since Jon hired you and she just wants to make sure her son hasn’t been manipulated into taking a gaslighting black widow home for dinner.” I grinned like the shit-eating asshole I was.

Kathryn, much to my surprise, started to laugh. She laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes. She wiped them away. “Just drive, you idiot.”

I drove.

Things felt normal as we drove toward Hastings Street and made our way past Playland, Vancouver’s amusement park, toward the Trans Canada Highway. Kathryn and I gazed out the window at the stalled rides and abandoned park that would remain closed until the spring. Neither of us said much of anything that wasn’t related to work, and once we hit the open highway, conversation all but disappeared.

Until Kathryn broke the silence. “I’m not very good with parents.”

That didn’t matter much to me. “You don’t have to be. It’s not like we’re dating and I’m taking you home to meet my mother.” I chuckled.

Kathryn stiffened.

I realized too late that my comment had only served to make things more awkward. “Besides, you’re only meeting one parent and two siblings, and my sister-in-law. My little sister’s name is Dana, my little brother’s name is Eli, and his wife is Casey. She’s the one having the baby soon. Try not to talk to her about the pregnancy. She’s been uncomfortable for months and she hates when people treat her differently because she’s a pregnant lady.”

“Noted. I wouldn’t bring up baby stuff anyway.”

“Right. You hate kids.”

“I don’t hate kids,” she said hastily. “As I’ve told you, I just don’t understand them. They make me uneasy.”

“Like parents do?”

Kathryn bit her lip.

I wondered if all this insecurity was in part because of her upbringing. Had she been moved from house to house and never settled in long enough to establish comfortable boundaries and relationships with the guardians or other kids that might have lived in the house with her? I couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to live in an ever-changing world as a teenager. I thought back to who I’d been back then. When I was a young boy, I’d needed structure and discipline, and knowing what to expect in my own home had been something I seriously took for granted.

I probably still took it for granted to this day.

“My brother is a heavy-duty mechanic,” I told her, deciding that talking was better than the stony silence. “Dana is a dental hygienist. She’s been obsessed with teeth since she was a little kid. When we were growing up, she never wanted to have tea parties like most little girls. She’d make my brother and me play dentist with her.” The memory made me smile. “She’d have us lie on our backs on her bed and hang our heads off the edge so she could peer at our teeth and poke at them with toothpicks. I let her floss my teeth once. Big mistake. Blood everywhere. It was a crime scene.”

Kathryn giggled. “So what you’re trying to say is you’re not the only weird one in your family?”

“Exactly. We’re all a little crazy. It’s the Collinder gene.”

We joked and chatted for the rest of the drive, and

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