"This is delicious, ma'am," Heath said to Mrs. Carnevale. "Really. One of the best meals I ever had."
Drew beamed at him from over her glass of water as Mrs. Carnevale smiled modestly and waved a hand dismissively in the air. "Oh, thank you," she said. Then she pointed at him. "You make sure you eat," she warned. "I know you're an athlete of some kind and you need a good meal in you."
"Yes, ma'am," Heath said obediently.
"So, Heath, you follow baseball?" her father asked, sipping at his wine.
"Yes, sir," Heath replied.
"Yeah? Who do you like for the playoffs?"
"Well, being born and mostly raised in Pittsburgh makes me a Pirates fan automatically," he answered, and smiled when Mr. Carnevale made a noise of distaste and waved him off. "But for the playoffs I'd have to say Yankees all the way."
Drew had been holding her breath, realizing she'd neglected to coach him on the proper baseball teams, but luckily he'd picked the right one.
"Damn right, Yankees all the way," Mr. Carnevale said, nodding his head firmly. "What do you think about the Red Sox?" It was a test.
Drew kicked and stomped Heath's foot under the table, harder than necessary, and he glanced over at her. She kept her eyes on her plate but shook her head quickly, clearing her throat.
Heath picked it up immediately. "Nah, not a Sox fan, sir," he said. "Not my cup of tea."
"Mine either, and that's 'cause they suck," her father said bluntly, happy as always to advertise his hatred of the baseball team. "Bunch of degenerates, they are."
"Degenerates, Daddy?" Drew asked, raising her eyebrows. "Really?"
"Hey, Heath," Vince said. "Saw you on ESPN about the Smackdown thing in a couple weeks. You ready for that?"
Heath bobbed his head. "I think so," he replied. "Been workin' hard, trainin' a lot."
"What's that?" Uncle Gino asked. "This Smackdown thing."
"A tournament, Uncle Gino," Vince replied. "A big MMA tournament."
"What the hell is this MMA crap?" Uncle Gino demanded.
"It's like fightin', Unc," Ryan chimed in. "Like martial arts and boxing all in one. The guys, they beat the shit out of each other in cages. It's better than wrestling!"
"Oh, fightin'," Uncle Gino said. He glanced at Heath and nodded. Drew wasn't sure if it was with approval or merely acknowledgment; her uncle had always been a big fan of boxing.
"When is this tournament?" Mr. Carnevale asked.
Heath glanced back toward him. "In a couple weeks, sir," he answered. "End of the month. It's in Buffalo."
"I gotta see one of them things, one day," her father said musingly. "Is that gonna be on TV?"
Heath nodded again. "Yes, sir. It'll be on ESPN."
"I'll have to tune in, maybe watch you fight," her father said. "I always liked the fights, myself."
The conversation went on pleasantly, and Drew gradually started to relax. Heath seemed to be perfectly comfortable. He had a lot in common as far as interests went with Ryan and Vince, and even promised to work with them in the gym if they ever wanted to come by. Her father was warming up more and more to him, and even her sisters seemed to be sort of behaving themselves. They teased her occasionally and poked fun at her, but Drew knew they were just being her big sisters. She knew that they both liked Heath.
Her mother forced Heath to eat a second plate, which made Drew's own full stomach churn, but Heath barely batted an eye. When everyone was done eating and bemoaning how full they were, Drew's mother started clearing off the dinner plates.
"I'll help, Mom," Drew said, getting to her feet. She picked up her and Heath's plates and carried them into the kitchen, returning for her sisters' dishes and then her brothers-in-law's dishes.
She had slid into her seat again when her mother came out. "Drew has made a delicious-looking tiramisu," she announced. "Who wants dessert and coffee?"
"Mom, give us a minute," Nik groaned, patting her stomach. "We're still hurtin' here!"
"Sit down, sweetheart, take a load off," her father insisted, gesturing to her chair. "Come on."
"All right," Mrs. Carnevale relented and slipped into the seat. She reached across the table to pat Heath's hand. "I worry about you young single men," she said. "Not eatin' like you should, no one to take care of you. I packed you some food to take home."
Heath smiled. "Thank you, ma'am," he said politely. "I appreciate that."
"So, Heath," her father said again, and Drew sighed, already growing tired of hearing that phrase. "Tell me about your father."