Good Boy (WAGs #1)(67)

“Dear Lord,” my mother starts, “thank you for these blessings we are about to receive. We are grateful for another Sunday together with family, and for Brenna’s good cheer, even while she looks like a beached whale.”

“Mom!” Brenna gasps.

My mom opens her eyes and gives Brenna a wink. “We pray for the safe delivery of our grandbaby as he makes his way into the world, and for a victory tomorrow night over the Canucks, who should NEVER HAVE WON THAT LAST ONE! AMEN!”

I hear Jess stifle a snort.

The second grace is over, dishes are passed. I offer Jess the platter of ham and then a healthy portion of my father’s smoky ribs.

“This looks amazing,” my girlfriend says.

As the platter moves down the table, I watch my sister Brenna put a tiny dot of potato salad on her plate and then pass it.

“You okay?” I ask. The Rileys are big eaters, and if Brenna is off her chow then I’m worried. My gaze lowers to the huge swollen basketball under her shirt. “And how long was I on that road trip? You look fifty pounds heavier.”

Her jaw falls open. “Who says that to a pregnant woman?”

“Oh, shut it. You’re gorgeous and you know it. But you look bigger.”

After a long pause, she lets out a tired sigh. “I am bigger,” she admits. “I’ve gained about five pounds in the last couple of days.” She rubs the right side of her abdomen and leans back in her chair. “My hands and feet are swollen. I’ve had a tummy ache every day this week. And I think the morning sickness is back—I threw up twice this morning.”

Concern tugs at me. “Is that normal?”

Brenna rubs her belly again. “Charlie thinks it’s my stomach rebelling against all the greasy shit I’ve been putting into it.”

“He could be right. Maybe cut out the Mickey D’s and eat some veggies?” Britt suggests from her seat beside me. “See if it helps?”

Our sister nods. “Mom made a salad because I asked her to.”

“Oh!” Molly leaps out of her chair and carries the salad bowl over to Brenna. As if passing it the normal way wouldn’t do. “Is there anything else you need?”

Brenna shakes her head, giving my ex a sweet smile. “You’ve spoiled me rotten already this week.”

“Well,” Molly says, returning to her chair. “I remember how hard it was to be pregnant.”

The fork stops halfway to my mouth.

I have to play back her words for second just to be sure she actually said them. But it’s true. She sat at my family table and told a boldfaced lie. Again. My sisters are staring at her right now, pity on their faces.

When she moved away to Vancouver, I thought this shit was over. Several thousand miles of distance between us had allowed me to forget just how conniving she was. But now she’s back, still trying to hang on to a lie she’d told herself. It’s sick.

And it’s never going to end.

There’s a sudden zing of pain in my neck, and I drop my fork with a clatter. “Cheezus,” I swear.

“Blake,” Brenna warns as I get out of my chair. “Where are you going?”

“Advil,” I mumble, heading for the doorway. The truth is, I need a minute away from Molly to regroup. Things can’t go on like this.

I stumble into the kitchen and fill a glass with water, then guzzle it down. My brain tries in vain to come up with some solution—some way of easing Molly out of all our lives. But I come up with nothing.

Someone approaches from behind, and I spin around to find Brenna.

“Blake,” she says in a low voice. “You can’t just storm off. Her feelings might make you uncomfortable, but they need to be acknowledged. And maybe you shouldn’t bring your new girlfriend over without warning us.”

My eyes practically bug out. “So, what, every time I visit Ma and Dad and want to bring Jess, I should send her a formal invitation and make sure she RSVPs so you know she’s coming? Bullshit. She’s my girlfriend, Bren. She’s welcome here anytime.”

Her frown deepens.

“You never had to check with anyone before you brought Charlie here,” I point out, the anger in my gut going from a simmer to a boil. “Same for Beth and Kyle. So what the hell makes this any different?”

“You know what makes it different,” Brenna hisses. “Mol’s my best friend. You were going to marry her! Do you realize how insensitive you’re being? It kills her to see you with someone else!”

“Then why is she here?” I shoot back. “Nobody’s holding a gun to her head and forcing her to have lunch with us.”

“She’s here because I want her here! Because she’s family!” Brenna’s cheeks turn bright red. “And she’s still in love with you, you stupid idiot.”

I take a breath. And another one. And one more for good measure. In fact, I’m two seconds away from busting out the mantra Wesley taught me after my knee gave out on me during the playoffs last season. I’m supposed to say It’s going to be okay three times.

Except…it’s not fucking okay. And it won’t be, not as long as my sister keeps throwing my lying ex into my path. That woman broke me. She fucking crushed me.

“I’m sorry that she still has feelings for me,” I say as calmly as I can muster. “But she needs to get over them. I’ve moved on, Bren. It took me five fucking years to do it, but I’m finally in a good place again.”