“Thanks, Son.” His dad held out both arms. “Good luck tomorrow. We are so proud of you.” Drew was folded into the huge bear hug his dad had been giving him since he was a little boy. They slapped each other on the back.
“I’m proud of you too, Dad, and I’ll be prouder still when you go home and make up with Mom.” He backed away a little and grabbed his dad by the biceps. “I’ll be driving you to the airport Monday morning, so if you want to get Mom some of that candy you talked about, you might want to stop by there tomorrow before the game.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” his dad said, but he smiled. “Kicking your old man out?”
“Sending my old man home where he belongs. Bring Mom next time.”
“I might.”
The doorbell rang downstairs. Drew wasn’t expecting anyone; it wasn’t Girl Scout cookie time, so he was tempted to not answer. Owen knew how to let himself in, so it couldn’t be him. A minute or so later, the doorbell rang again.
“I’d better see who that is,” Drew said to his dad and headed downstairs. He didn’t see anyone when he looked through the peephole in the door, but he opened it anyway. He saw her sweet smile when she poked her head around the doorframe.
“Surprise,” his mother said.
“Mom! What are you doing here?”
Drew’s mom, Bonnie, threw her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. I have missed you so much.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were on your way? I would have picked you up at the airport.” He gave her a huge squeeze. “I’ve missed you too.”
“The plane landed an hour or so ago. I took a shuttle here.” Drew glanced up to see the driver wave as he got back into the van. “It’s so easy, and the flight was nice. I brought one bag.” She kissed his cheek. “I won’t be here long. I’m picking up your father, and we’re going home.”
He heard his dad’s heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor of the entryway.
“I’ll go home when I want to,” his father said. Drew almost let out a groan. In other words, he was back to acting like a child.
Drew’s mom reached back to grab the handle of a small rolling suitcase, stepped around him, and faced her husband.
“No, you’re coming home with me. Our son has enough on his plate without acting as a referee between us,” his mother scolded. “I’ll stay in the other guest room, and we’ll be going home tomorrow.”
“Don’t you want to see my game, Mom? I can get you a suite ticket. You’ll have fun, and I’d love it if you were there.”
“Oh, yes, honey, but not if I’m intruding.” She glanced up at Drew. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the team hotel tonight?”
“You could never intrude, Mom. Let me get this set up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolled to find the Sharks’ PR director’s number, and hit “dial.”
Drew’s parents were still glaring at each other. He had to be at the hotel in less than an hour, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave at the moment. His dad would never put hands on his mom, but they were sure as hell still angry with each other. He hated to think of them spending the evening fighting and unhappy, but there was little he could do about the situation right now. His little mom looked like a housecat that was defending her turf, and his dad was the neighborhood German shepherd. This wasn’t going to end well.
He heard a “hello,” and he put the phone up to his ear. “Hi Colleen, it’s Drew McCoy. I’m wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
“Of course, Drew. How can I help?”
“My mom, Bonnie, just arrived in town. Both of my parents will be at the game tomorrow, if they can get into the team suite.”
“Absolutely. I’ll take care of it. Would they like sideline passes?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll make that happen,” Colleen said. “Leave it up to me.”
Easiest phone call he’d made all week. He thanked her, said goodbye, and ended the call. Maybe he was imagining it, but his dad had sidled over to his mother a little. He had to get his ass in gear and go to the hotel. He couldn’t leave them like this, though.
“Mom, my chef will be here in a little while to make dinner for you lovebirds,” he said. He had no idea if Owen would have enough ingredients, but he always seemed to cope admirably with whatever food situation he found himself in. “I need to go, but I’m not leaving until you at least kiss each other and say hello.”
“I can make myself a sandwich,” his mother said.