Page 23 of Fast Break


Font Size:

"Thanks, Helen. You, too. What is this wonderful feast you're whipping up?"Iwalkover to the stove to take a peek.

"Lemon-Basil Salmon with a side of citrus-honey carrots, herbed rice pilaf, and a simple Caesar salad."

"It smells so good."I inhale deeply."Why are you still working for my parents? You could open your own catering business or even a food truck."

She barks a sharplaugh."At my age? No,thankyou. After thirty years, I've grown accustomed to your parents' ways. I don't want to have to learn how to handle other customers."

"Twenty-eight years and I'm still trying to learn how to handle them."Ikissher cheek."If you ever want torunaway, my couch is apull-out. I'll give you the bedroom."

"If Irunaway, darling, it'll be south to the Caribbean. NotBaltimore. No offense."

"None taken."I steal a crouton and pop it in my mouth, dodging Helen's playful smack."Where are the folks, anyway?"

"In the parlor with the other guests."

I raise my eyebrows."Other guests? They didn't tell me it was adinnerparty."

Helen twists her lips into a sympathetic frown."Good luck in there. Remember toholdyour head high and your ground firm."

Helen understands how it is for me and has been a much-needed ballast of support growing up. She's the one who encouraged me to continue pursuing my sport against my parents' objections. I nod and roll myshoulders, cracking my neck side to side as Iwalkin the direction of the parlor toward the front of the house. I don't know what awaits me, but I'll have mygameface on for it.

I stroll into the parlor where my parents each sit in matching ivory upholstered wingback chairs. Across from them, a couple about their age sits on the matching sofa, while next to them is a younger man who looks to be in his twenties, clean-shaven with short sandy hair styled conservatively and twinkling green eyes that mirror the woman's. A smattering of golden freckles dusts his nose. He stands when he notices me and offers a smile, drawing everyone'sattentionto the doorway.

"Palmer, you made it,"my mother says, glancing at herwatch.And on time, Mother.

My father and the other man rise from their seats. Dad greets me with akisson the cheek and ushers me into the room."Palmer, these are the Frankels. Patsy, Ned–this is my daughter,Palmer. And this,"he gestures to the young man, who reaches out a hand to shakemine,"is their son,Boone."

I shake Boone's hand, then his father's, and smile politely at Mrs. Wainwright."Nice tomeetyou."

"The Wainwrights are new clients at the firm,"my father explains, resuming his seat. Ned andBoonewait until I sit down in one of the Queen Ann chairs flanking the couch before theysit."We're going to be helping them open a new 1,100-home community on the western end of the county."

"We're excited tostartwork later this summer,"Mr. Wainwright adds.

"The Wainwrights are from Cumberland County,"my mother explains."Boone, here, will be overseeing the project on his father's behalf for the next eighteen months. I told him since you are about the same age, you couldshowhim where all the young people go to havefun."

I'm caught off guard. Is my mother trying to fix me up with their clients' son? I force a smile, clenching my teeth together."Since I live inBaltimore, that might be difficult. But I'd be happy toshowyou around there any time."

"You don't have to feel obligated,"Boonesays.

"She doesn't mind,"my mother says, waving her hand."She has plenty of time."

"In the off-season,"I allow, even though I keep busy with youth coaching or speaking gigs, orplayingthe occasional international tournament.

"Off-season?"Booneasks."What is it you do?"

"I play for theBaltimoreBattle in the Women's Major League Lacrosse League."

Boone's face lights up."Really? That is so cool. I was a middie in college. What position?"

"Goalie."Istartto relax.Booneappears genuinely interested and talking about thegamewith people whocarealways puts me at ease.

"Sounds exciting,"Mrs. Wainwright says."Elaine, you never said your daughter is a professional athlete. I played competitive tennis in college, but Iwasn'tquite good enough to go pro."

"Very impressive,"Mr. Wainwright agrees. He smiles at my parents."You must be so proud. I'm surprised, Jeff, thatwasn'tthe first thing out of your mouth when we first met.Boonegraduated Summa Cum Laude from Wharton six years ago and I still have trouble resisting the urge to bring it up."

"Dad."Boone's cheeks flush, and I decide right then I like him. His humilityisn’tan act, unlike so many others.

"We're very proud ofPalmer,"my father says, looking at me so adoringly and so convincingly I believe him for a second.