Honey on Your Mind Part 27

He laughed again. "I must have picked that up somewhere."

"Apparently, my proclivity for a.s.signing nicknames is contagious."

He put a hand on my head. "Apparently it is."

Suddenly I was starving. Everything on the buffet looks delicious. Croissants, ham, turkey, steak, mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, French toast. I couldn't decide what to eat, so I served myself a bit of everything, and then made my way back to the table. When I sat down, I noticed that I had more food than Jake did. There was literally no room for daylight anywhere on my plate.

"Oh my G.o.d, do I look like a pig?" I whispered to him.

He looked at my plate and laughed. "Hungry much?"

"Oh my G.o.d, I totally look like a pig," I whispered again. "What should I do with all this food?"

"How about eating it?"

I tilted my head to the side. "Thanks for that, you're really helpful. Have I ever told you that?"

Still whispering, he laughed and pushed a strand of loose hair out of my face. "You look beautiful today. Have I told you that?"

I laughed too. "d.a.m.n you. You're impossible to get mad at."

We settled into brunch and were soon engaged in light and funny conversation. I was impressed by how witty everyone was, especially Brett. Twice he said something so out of left field that I nearly spat out my French toast laughing.

Just when I was finally feeling comfortable, Jake's mother took a sip of her orange juice and gave me a polite smile.

"So, Waverly, tell us a little more about this television job of yours. I understand the show is quite popular."

I broke out in a cold sweat and gave her a smile of my own, albeit a nervous one. "Oh, um, well, it's a daytime talk show called Love, Wendy. Wendy Davenport, the host, interviews a lot of interesting people, um, you know, celebrities promoting their movies, authors promoting their books, that sort of thing." I cleared my throat and reached for my water gla.s.s.

"It's a fun show, Ava" Michele said. "I watch it all the time."

I stole a glance at Michele. I wish I were as composed as you are around this woman.

I swallowed and looked back at Jake's mom. "So, um, I do a semi-regular feature for the show called Honey on Your Mind. It's based on an advice column I used to write for the San Francisco Sun.

"Advice?" She ran her fingers over her pearl necklace. "What kind of advice?"

I nodded and hoped no one had noticed the sweat mustache I was sporting. "The column was mostly dating advice, but, um, the TV show is a little different. It's sort of expanded to a lot of different things." Good G.o.d, I sound lame right now.

"She does a lot of man-on-the-street interviews," Jake said. "You know, taking the pulse of the city, that sort of thing. They're really funny."

I looked at him, so grateful that he spoke up. "You really think they're funny?"

He put his hand on my head. "Come on, you know I do."

"I loved the one where you asked people if they were more annoyed by, let me see if I can remember your exact words." Michele used air quotes. "*Jacka.s.ses who yap on their cell phones in restaurants or people who immediately post results of sporting events on Facebook.' I think that was my favorite one."

I blushed. "I remember that one. I definitely got a little carried away that day. I hope I didn't come across as too mean."

"Oh G.o.d no, it was fantastic. People drive me nuts all the time doing stuff like that, so it was great to see someone speak up in an effort to stop the madness," she said.

I smiled. "Thanks."

"I liked the one where you stopped people and asked them to tell a joke on the spot," Natalie said. "Those people were terrible!"

Jake looked at me. "I didn't see that episode. Is that where you get your material?"

"Hey now." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Waverly likes to tell jokes," Jake said to the table. "Although I'd use the term *jokes' lightly, so as not to offend the professionals."

I put my hand on his arm. "Be nice. If not, I may have to tell you my newest one."

"Oh no," he said.

Brett rubbed his hands together. "Lay it on us."

Jake held his palms up. "Don't say I didn't warn you. I take no responsibility for this."

The oldest Mr. McIntyre took a bite of his scrambled eggs. "I love jokes. Let's hear what you've got, young lady."

I quickly scanned the table, making eye contact with nearly everyone, and I was surprised to realize that instead of feeling freaked out, I felt...comfortable. As an only child whose one serious romantic relations.h.i.+p had been with another only child, I'd never attended such a big family gathering.

This is kind of nice.

I smiled and nodded. "OK, sure." I took a breath and paused for just a moment.

"What do you call a cow with only two legs?"

They all looked at me.

I tilted my body to one side. "Lean beef."

Everyone, or more accurately, everyone but Jake's mom, chuckled.

"What do you call a cow with no legs?" I said.

They all kept looking at me.

I hesitated before speaking again.

"Ground beef."

This time everyone genuinely laughed. Even Jake's mom, who was quietly folding and refolding her napkin on the table, smiled.

"That's pretty good," Michele said.

Jake's dad held up his plate. "I've got a cow with no legs right here next to my eggs."

I turned to Jake and playfully pushed his shoulder. "See? I'm not that bad."

"Nonpaying audience." He gave my shoulder a squeeze, then stood up and excused himself.

"How do you come up with the ideas for the show?" Brett asked me. "Do you make them up yourself?"

I nodded. "For the most part. We have a weekly staff meeting to bounce ideas around, as well. Plus I get a lot of e-mails from viewers through my website, and I have some funny friends, so I have a lot of material to choose from."

"Sounds so fun," Natalie said.

I smiled. "It is fun. It's nice to be able to laugh at work, you know?"

Brett coughed. "I'm an attorney. Our laughter masks internal pain and suffering."

Michele elbowed him. "Oh please, you love your corporate job. You'd wear a suit to the dentist on a Sat.u.r.day." She looked at me. "Brett loves the suit thing, and if you hadn't noticed, he loves the preppy thing. His favorite color is Nantucket red, which I say is just a fancy word for pink."

"It's manly," Brett said in a deep voice as he patted his plaid sweater vest.

"So you're serious about this career, then?" Mrs. McIntyre said to me. The chilly tone of her voice sucked all the jovial feeling out of the air.

I looked at her. "Serious?"

Natalie stood up and started to clear plates. "Oh, Mom, leave her alone. Now who wants another mimosa?"

Everyone but Mrs. McIntyre raised an empty gla.s.s.

Natalie laughed. "I figured."

"Can you just bring out the pitcher?" Brett asked.

Tim stood up and started clearing dishes too.

"Can I help?" I asked him.

"Absolutely not," he said. "You're our guest."

Jake's mom excused herself to use the restroom. I chewed on my fingernail as I watched her walk away.

a a a The Knicks were playing the Jazz that day, so after brunch, Jake, Brett, Tim, and I gathered in the family room to watch Shane take the court. Michele, Natalie, and Jake's parents stayed in the living room to chat and watch the kids play with their new toys.

As the Knicks streamed out of the locker room, Brett lightly smacked Jake on the back of the head. "That could have been you. You could have been our meal ticket, little brother."

Jake didn't turn around. "I averaged four points a game at Duke, older brother. Shane averaged thirty. You never were very good at math."

"A man can dream," Brett said. "What about you, Waverly? Jake tells me your dad used to play pro baseball. Are you a jock too?"

I shook my head. "Unfortunately those genes drowned in the pool."

He laughed. "Nice. Anyone need a drink? I'm thirsty." He stood up and smoothed his perfectly pressed pants with his hands.

"I'll take a beer," Tim said.

"Oh my G.o.d, that reminds me," I said.

"What reminds you of what?" Tim look confused.

"Being thirsty," I said. "That reminds me of something."

Jake looked at me. "Uh-oh, I sense a joke coming on."

Brett stopped walking. "Another joke?"

"Well, it's not really a joke. More of an observation," I said.

Brett wiggled his fingers inward. "Let's hear it."

"Well, I was just thinking about the cows I was talking about earlier. If you were a farmer and owned a brown cow, don't you think a cool name for it would be Chocolate Milk?"

Brett laughed. "OK, then."

"Ouch," Tim said.

"I told you," Jake said, shaking his head.

I put my palms up and looked at all of them. "What? What?"

Jake put his arm around me. "I'll take another b.l.o.o.d.y Mary. And bring a muzzle for my little friend here."

"Or some chocolate milk!" I added, laughing.

a a a At halftime, I got up to find an empty room where I could call my dad and wish him a merry Christmas. On the way down the hall, I heard the sound of voices in the kitchen.

"I'm just not sure I see a future there, that's all. I'm sure she's a lovely girl."

I froze.

It was Jake's mom.

Is she talking about me?

Then I heard Natalie's voice. "You don't know that, mom. A lot of things could happen. He might not even take the job."

"He told me she'd never move to Los Angeles. And you heard her in there; she basically said her TV career is more important to her than he is. So to me, that means there's no future. Jake has already said as much to me."

Los Angeles? Take the job?

What job?

What?