Happily Ever After? (Sleeping Handsome Sequel) by Jean Haus

just stands there. “She’s got book club tonight
right?”
    He nods.
    My mom is the sh—best. But I can see
her set up from a mile away. Since I don’t want to disappoint her,
I give in to her manipulations. “Have you eaten yet?”
    My dad shakes his head.
    I reach in the cupboard. Luckily,
there are at least three clean dishes. “Then let me grab you a
plate too.”
    He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t
decline.
    Drake already has everything laid out
on the counter. Yeah, spaghetti, meatballs, salad, and garlic bread
beat more Taco Bell by miles. Drake plops down a two-liter and
three plastic cups before rubbing his hands together. We fill our
plates then sit on the couch. We haven’t got around to getting a
table. Drake keeps trying to talk me into a foosball table
instead.
    I sit in the middle and even though
Drake turned on Sports Center on the flat screen, I feel the need
to fill the silence. “What’s with the Christmas hat?” I ask my
idiot roommate dressed in nothing but shorts and the red
hat.
    He sucks in noodles. “Christmas in
July.”
    “ It’s June.”
    He shrugs. “Close enough.” He stuffs
in an entire meatball. “Man, your mom can cook.” The words come out
a garbled mess, but I’m used to deciphering him through a mouth
full of food.
    I glance at my dad still in his tie
and dress shirt from work. “How’s the job going?”
    “ Same as always but good.”
He cuts his noodles with his fork. “How’s your new job?”
    Salad catches in my throat. My dad
hasn’t shown any interest in my life since I told him I wasn’t
taking a football scholarship. I wash the lettuce down with grape
pop. “I like it. Running people through a workout is easy. I just
have to be patient and chat with them a bit. I wouldn’t want to do
it forever.” I shrug. “But it pays the bills.”
    My dad nods but his composed
expression doesn’t show his thoughts, which has me fearing he’s
thinking I could be conditioning for a new season of college
football. My dad has always dreamed of me going to college and then
pro. And I fear his dream will always be a wedge between
us.
    “ Holy shit,” Drake says
past another mouthful of food. “You guys gotta watch the replay on
that basket. He was almost at the half court line.”
    The three of us continuing
eating, watching Sports
Center , and talking sports until a knock
sounds on the door. Drake’s up in seconds. Two of his buddies come
in towing a case of beer.
    My dad gives me a look.
    I shrug. “He likes to
party.”
    My dad gives me another
look.
    “ Don’t tell me you didn’t
party in college.”
    “ Well yeah, but I lived on
campus…”
    My face flushes with anger at the idea
it would be okay to party if I lived on a college campus. Why does
everything always go back to the fact I didn’t want a football
scholarship with him? Never mind after the whole coma and head
injury thing no one would probably take me anyway. He just can’t
let it go.
    He clears his throat. “What I mean is
it’s kind of expected there. I just don’t want you getting in
trouble. I don’t want your neighbors calling the cops or
something.”
    My anger deflates a tad. “I usually
keep Drake from getting too wild.”
    “ Yeah, you’re probably a
lot more mature than I was at eighteen.” He grins. “Unfortunately,
I was probably more like your roommate.”
    Thinking of my dad like Drake, I grin
back. “Mom settle you down?”
    He nods. “Eventually. Speaking of your
mother, she wants you to come over for dinner on
Sunday.”
    “ I have to work at
three.”
    He stands. “Then I’ll tell her
one?”
    I stand and grab his empty plate.
“Sure.”
    He glances at Drake and his friends,
swigging beer in the kitchen. “Looks like the festivities are under
way so I should get going.”
    I smirk. “Sure you don’t want a
beer?”
    “ Ah no. I have my own at
home.” He moves to the door. “See you Sunday,” he says before
stepping out.
    I stare at the door. That was