do it together. My dad is really good. He’s quite competitive.
My mom isn’t so good, and she gets mad at his professional
attitude.”
Steph and I both laugh at that. Maybe she’s imagining
my dad in the plaid golf pants he actually wears. My mom
hates those things. If she could burn them accidentally on
purpose, I have no doubt that she would.
She hooks up her phone to the car’s nav, then checks
the screen. She types something in on the phone, looks at the
screen again.
“Hmm. I don’t know what to put in. Pool? That just
comes up with places to swim. Sports we probably don’t want.
Darts? Might be sketchy.” She types it in anyway, but nothing
comes up.
“Try wings?”
“Wings! That’s an excellent idea! Do you like wings?”
“Who doesn’t!”
“My mom used to make the best lemon pepper wings.
Oh my goodness they were amazing. She’s a great cook.”
I don’t know why that surprises me. I guess when I
think about Steph’s parents, I don’t really imagine them as
normal people. I kind of think about them as the kind that have
personal trainers, someone to cook, clean, and do everything
else. They’re probably super normal. Just people. Just like my
parents. No flashy, dazzling jewellery or fancy anything. I
mean, they raised Steph. She’s so down to earth. She’s so nice.
“Wings? Here?” Steph points to the map and I stop
trying to puzzle out her parents.
“Sure. Looks good.”
It turns out that it’s a good choice. The place is a small