In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

THIRTY NINE

The waitress sets down four steaming mugs of coffee on the table, breaking the tense silence between us. I offer her a quick thanks before turning my attention back to the awkward situation unfolding before me. Jack reaches across me to grab the cream and sugar, his movements somewhat awkward, his eyes fixed on the tabletop as if searching for an escape route.

I can't help but break the tension with a feeble attempt at humor. "Well, are we just gonna sit here staring at each other all day?" I quip, hoping to lighten the heavy atmosphere that seems to suffocate us.

Juliette flashes me a sympathetic smile from across the table. Her eyes flit back and forth between Jack and me, silently acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation. We must look like a pair of naughty schoolchildren caught red-handed, facing the stern scrutiny of a disapproving adult.

Glancing over at Jack, I can see he's avoiding meeting my mother's gaze, his cheeks tinged with a faint flush of embarrassment. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he retreats into his own thoughts, his mind seemingly a million miles away from this uncomfortable family reunion.

My mother finally breaks the uneasy silence, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife as she takes a slow sip of her coffee, seemingly trying to find her footing in this awkward dance of social niceties. "So, Jack," she begins tentatively, her tone a careful blend of curiosity and polite interest, "what have you been up to lately?"

Jack lifts his eyes, readjusting his hat with a nervous twitch. "Um, yeah, work mostly. Been spending a lot of time at the rink, you know. When I'm not at the rink, well I..." he mumbles, his voice trailing off as he struggles to articulate his life beyond the confines of the hockey arena.

My mother raises a skeptical eyebrow, her keen gaze fixed on Jack. "So, when you're not at the rink, you're with my daughter, is that what you were trying to say?" she cuts in, her tone sharp and merciless.

I nearly choke on my coffee at her blunt assertion, shooting her a furious glare as Juliette bursts into laughter beside me, her hand flying to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the sound.

Jack freezes, his cheeks flushed crimson as he shoots me a sidelong glance, silently pleading for assistance in navigating this verbal minefield.

"Mom, no," I interject hastily, desperation creeping into my voice as I attempt to defuse the tension. "Jack and I are just friends. We hung out yesterday, and he crashed here. That's all. We're never getting back together, right, Jack?" I add, my eyes darting nervously toward him, silently urging him to play along.

He lets out a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Indeed," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of my mother's scrutiny hanging heavy in the air between us.

"Anyway, you're with Braden." says Juliette putting her mouth in her sweatshirt. 

Juliette's words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut, and I shoot her a venomous glare as she retreats into her sweatshirt, feigning innocence. She knows exactly what she's doing, and it pisses me off to no end. I discreetly kick her leg under the table, a silent plea for her to stop stirring the pot.

"Yes, Braden's still in the picture," I reply through gritted teeth, my voice strained with forced cheerfulness as I hastily fist-bump Jack's shoulder in a feeble attempt to play along with Juliette's charade. "And Jack is really good friend with him ," I add, throwing Jack a sideways glance filled with desperation, silently begging him to play along with the facade.

But Jack's eyes, burning with a mix of frustration and betrayal, bore into mine like hot coals. I can practically feel the daggers shooting from his glare, silently accusing me of dragging him into this mess with my lies. Why did I say that? It's not even true. But it's too late now, and I'm left grappling with the consequences of my impulsive words as the tension at the table thickens like a suffocating fog.