I sighed at her words. Was it really worth it for me to put her through this much stress? If she wasn’t ready to meet my family, I’d only make things worse by forcing her. “Let’s go,” I said, tugging her back toward the car. I would call Mom later and tell her we got hung up.
“What?”
“Let’s go somewhere else. I can get us out of this,” I told her, tugging at her again. She wouldn’t budge as she dug her feet in.
“No,” she said, straightening her spine. “I’m whining, but I can do this,” she added, turning back toward the entrance. “I have to do this.”
She started walking, still clutching my hand tightly. At least she wasn’t trying so hard to hide her limp now. Her nerves were starting to rub off on me, and even I was beginning to worry. I knew my family would love Mac, but I was now afraid of how they would react to her cane. They wouldn’t say anything stupid, but I was more afraid of the initial looks. I should have been less of an evasive asshole the day before and explained things when I had the chance. I didn’t need them gawking at her.
As we turned the corner toward the main entrance, I spotted my sister, Allie, standing discreetly outside the restaurant smoking a cigarette. She looked surprised when she saw me, trying to put the cigarette into the receptacle by the door. “Allie?” I greeted her as we approached.
“Hey, Bentley,” she answered with smoke exiting her mouth.
“Since when do you smoke?”
“Since whenever. Don’t worry about it.”
“Do Mom and Dad know?” I asked the question, but I already knew the answer.
“Oh, I’m sure they will now, won’t they? I mean, you are the Boy Scout,” she hissed. “I’m Allie, by the way,” she said to Mac with her fake smile painted on her face. “The bad child.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Mac answered. The tension between Allie and me didn’t make the introduction any easier.
After Allie started middle school, our relationship as brother and sister became dicey at best. We didn’t seem to understand each other anymore after that. It didn’t help that Mom and Dad were always on her case and expected me to be an example for her.
We followed Allie inside, where everyone was seated at a long table in the far corner of the restaurant. I could tell right away the size of our group overwhelmed Mac. Yet another thing I should have mentioned. I was obviously trying for asshole of the year.
Mom stepped in, automatically sensing Mac’s discomfort. I guess you’d call that motherly instincts maybe? Her eyes never once moved to Mac’s cane. I should have known. Taking Mac under her wing, Mom took charge of introducing her to the family like they were old friends. Watching the scene from Mac’s perspective, I could see how our loud and boisterous behavior could be intimidating. Growing up with it had obviously made me immune.
Mac and I sat next to each other through the meal. No one noticed that she barely ate her salad, or at least if they did, no one commented. After a while, she began to feel more comfortable and was able to answer the many questions being fired at her. I intervened anytime they got too personal.
“So, what’s with the cane?” Allie blurted out, silencing everyone at the table. I couldn’t believe she had gone there. Mac looked to the floor, completely unprepared for the ambush.
“Allie James, that is personal and none of your concern,” Mom scolded her. Allie remained unfazed as she looked at me ominously before turning back to Mac.
“I mean, if it’s a trendy thing you’re going for, it works. Especially with the limp. Do you spend a lot of time practicing that?”
I jumped from my chair, ready to wring her neck. Dad grabbed my arm to stop me. “Allie, you can wait in the car,” he said, pointing toward the door.
“Of course!” she snapped. “Because Bentley is perfect, right? He brings his crippled girlfriend to lunch and we’re all supposed to fall all over her and feel sorry for her.”
“Allie, get the fuck out!” I yelled, attracting the attention of the rest of the restaurant, including the manager, who came over. I couldn’t help myself. Allie had pushed me over the edge. She left the table with her phone at her ear, having accomplished what she
wanted. Mac, who looked like she had been dropped in a tank of ice-cold water, stood up and left as quickly as her limp would allow. My mom tried to call after her, but it was too late.
I went after her, not even sure what I would say. This was my fault for dragging Mac here. I should have listened in the first place instead of thinking I knew what was best for her.
I stepped outside to see Mac’s retreating backside making a beeline for the car. Allie was standing next to a bench on the sidewalk, talking on her phone and smiling with satisfaction as she watched Mac walk away. Still pissed, I snatched the phone from her hand and smashed it against the asphalt, scaring the shit out of some poor old couple approaching the door.
“You asshole!” Allie yelled, seeing her phone in pieces on the ground. She stormed back into the restaurant while I raced after Mac.
“Mac, I don’t even know what to say,” I said, rushing to her side. I couldn’t get a read on her expression. She didn’t look mad or happy or anything in between. Her face was blank.
“Can you just get me out of here, please?” She backed away from the car so I could open the door for her. She lowered herself quickly into the seat and closed the door, not even caring that I was still in the way.
I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, but hesitated before backing out. “Mac, I—”
“Bentley, just drive,” she interrupted.