Chapter 6
Shane stared at his plate as Dad, Carrie, and the kids asked Shayna question after question about herself. They were all impressed by her job as a book editor. The kids were excited that she'd helped with several books they'd read.
It was only a matter of time before the attention turned to him, and everyone would be particularly underwhelmed. The few conversations he'd had with Dad over the phone had turned south every time Shane's job came up. Discussing it over dinner with the whole family would be six times as much fun.
After the wait staff came to check on them and refill their drinks, Dad turned to Shane. "And what are you doing with yourself these days?"
Shane's mouth went dry, so he gulped down half his pop before speaking. "Still working at the coffee shop. We changed the name to the Common Ground. Cool, huh?"
"By we, you mean the owner?" Dad asked. "Because I doubt a drink server has much say in it."
"I'm called a barista because I mix a wide variety of drinks, and actually, I did have a say. As employees, we own a piece of the stock."
"Of a hole in the wall coffee shop?"
Shane clenched his jaw. "It's not a hole in the wall. We're busy from open to close with hardly a moment to stop and catch our breaths."
Dad's brows came together. "As long as the education I paid for wasn't wasted. I had no idea that the University of Washington was a barista school. Did you get honors with your coffee degree?"
"You'd know if you had bothered to show up at my graduation, wouldn't you?"
Carrie cleared her throat. "Did you two bring formal attire for the anniversary celebration?"
"I brought a dress." Shayna smiled.
"Does it go with our theme? It's love." Carrie took Dad's hand and gazed at him adoringly.
Shane's skin crawled.
Carrie turned back to Shane. "And you? Do you have formal attire?"
"Hopefully my dress jacket and slacks will be good enough."
"Can't be worse than what you're wearing now," Dad muttered.
Shayna's eyes widened, and she begged Shane with her eyes to let it go.
Not a chance. Shane glared at Dad. "What's wrong with my clothes?"
"What's wrong with them?" Dad asked. "Where do you want me to start?"
Shane rubbed the hem of his beanie. "Why don't you tell me?"
"You look like a hobo!"
It took Shane a moment to recover. "A hobo? Really?"
"Yes, really. A plaid shirt, unshaven face, and a ratty knit hat. How would you describe it?"
"It's what everyone wears! Get with the times."
People from nearby tables stared at them wide-eyed.
"You asked for my opinion." Dad turned to his plate and cut into his steak.
Shane took a deep breath. And they wondered why he and Shayna didn't visit more? Dad and Carrie hadn't seen either of them in five years, and the first thing Dad does is ridicule him?
Had Shane not driven Shayna, he would've walked out of the restaurant and driven straight back to Seattle. Though come to think of it, his parents could drop her off at the Portland airport. A flight to Seattle couldn't be that much—not when they could afford the huge house and expensive cars they drove.
"Are you two bringing dates to the party?" Carrie asked.
Shayna and Shane exchanged curious glances.
"Is that the expectation?" Shayna asked.
"The theme is love," Carrie reminded them.
"I'm not seeing anyone," Shayna said quickly. "Sorry."
"Oh, there's plenty of time for finding a date." Carrie smiled.
Shayna arched a brow.
"Saturday, the whole town of Romance will be at the festival. You could meet plenty of nice young men there. And you still have tomorrow, Friday, and Sunday morning—I hear the church has a thrilling singles ministry." She turned to Shane. "The same goes for you. You have plenty of time to find a date."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Carrie went on to talk about the party, and Shane tuned her out, focusing once again on his food. He couldn't even taste it—that was how much he'd let Dad get to him. There was no way he was coming down for the twenty-year celebration. Not unless he had a huge success to flaunt.
By the time the conversation reached a lull, Shane was starting to relax. Miles started a game of tic-tac-toe and pushed the paper toward him. At least someone on Dad's side didn't think he was a loser. Shane played, letting the little guy win. He was so excited, he threw his arms into the air.
Carrie pushed her chair back. "Excuse me. I need to call Alisyn and make sure she finished the tasks I gave her."
"Maybe you should give her a break," Shane retorted.
Everyone turned to him.
"I beg your pardon?" Carrie said.
"She does so much, working nonstop without a break. Give her some time to relax."
"What do you think tonight is?" Carrie snapped. "She has the night off."
"How so? You gave her a to-do list."
Her brows furrowed. "Has she been complaining to you?"
Shane shook his head. "Not at all. I simply asked her a few questions, and she told me how busy she is—without complaint. You know, I bet she'd have loved to be here. Did you know she thinks of you guys as her family?"
Carrie's mouth gaped.
"Tell me she's going to the party she's putting so much work into."
Dad's nostrils flared, answering Shane's question. He folded his arms. "Stop harassing my wife, and quit talking to our hired help."
"I'm not harassing anyone, but I did just figure out who my date to the party is."
"You wouldn't." Dad's expression tensed.
"Oh, I very much would."
"She's going to watch the kids." Carrie glared at him.
"Wait. They're not going to your anniversary party?"
"It's a formal affair." She stared at him as though he'd just grown another nose.
"It's your anniversary!"
Carrie folded her arms. "We're going to be busy socializing."
"Well, you'd better figure something out because Alisyn has the night off." Shane threw his napkin onto the table and stormed out of the restaurant.