worth the risk • dean portman

chapter twenty eight

morgan

This dinner has already been a disaster, and it's barely even started.

It's honestly been a disaster from the second my dad decided it would be a good idea to diss Dean for coming with Adam's car. It only seems to matter to him, which is genuinely a little sad. It doesn't matter at all to my mom, which is a good thing. At least she is willing to give him a fair chance.

We're now sitting at a four-person table inside the Minnesota club, with Dean on my left and my parents across from us. I feel incredibly awkward right now, especially since the drive here was equally as bad. Combine that with a good few minutes of silence, and you've got our current situation.

I guess my mom senses the tension radiating off of both me and Dean, so she clears her throat and smiles kindly. "So, Dean! Tell me about yourself? Where are you from? What's your family like?"

I watch as he visibly tenses at the questions, but pastes on an unbothered expression and starts to talk nonetheless. "Well, um, I'm from Chicago. I lived there my whole life before I moved here for school. My mom's name is Jennifer, and she's always been my biggest supporter. I also have an eleven year old little brother, and his name is Danny."

"And your father?" my dad chimes in, the knowing look on his face saying it all. I know he was waiting for the opportunity to pounce on anything he could, and he unfortunately found it. I never thought my dad could be cruel and unfair, but seeing him like this has made me look at him in an entirely different light.

"Uh.. well.. he's..." Dean stutters, obviously uncomfortable. I take his hand and interlace our fingers, giving him the much needed support he needs. I know how hard it is for him to talk about this, so I want him to know that I'm here for him.

"Dean, you don't have to talk about anything you're uncomfortable with." my mother reassures him, clearly seeing how vulnerable the question is making him. "The last thing we want is for you to be forced to talk about something that brings you discomfort and sadness. I deeply apologize if Dave gave off that impression."

Dean visibly relaxes, but still chooses to talk anyway. "It's fine, don't worry about it. He wasn't very good to my mom, and he wasn't that great to me or my brother. I haven't heard from him in over six years, but it hasn't bothered me that much. I don't need him around to make sure I'm raised the right way, because my mom has done a great job. She's the strongest woman I know, and I hope I'm making her proud."

My mother reaches across the table and covers Dean's hand with hers, giving it a loving squeeze. "She sounds like a wonderful person. I'd love to meet her sometime soon."

"Yeah, she really is." Dean responds, the first true smile I've seen on his face all night.

"So Dean, tell me about your hockey career. What got you into it? How long have you been playing?" my dad interjects again, which sets me off.

"Dad!" I practically yell, but quickly lower my voice when I remember that I'm inside a restaurant. "No offense or anything, but this isn't an interview. Please stop bombarding him with random questions."

My dad sets his drink down and looks at me disapprovingly. "Morgan, I'm giving him a chance. Isn't this what you wanted? You wanted me to give him a fair chance, and I'm doing so. Excuse me for trying to get to know him, which is exactly what you begged for me to do."

Before I can say anything, Dean holds up his hand to stop me. "Morgan, it's fine. I promise you, there's nothing to worry about. I don't mind the questions."

He offers my dad a small smile, which is surprisingly returned. Before Dean can speak though, the waiter comes over to take our orders. I don't miss how my dad orders the most expensive steak for him and my mom to split, but Dean doesn't even look bothered.

When the waiter finally leaves, he takes a sip of his water and looks back towards my dad. "So, I started playing when I was three. I wanted to play because I was obviously a huge Hawks fan growing up, and I still am. My dad was a huge fan too, and him always having the games on got me into it. I guess I liked the fast pace of the game, but I was really into the hitting and the fighting."

I watch as my dad chuckles, almost like he was expecting Dean to say that. I quickly send him a warning glance, and then focus my attention back on Dean. "Anyway, I knew I wanted to be a defenseman as soon as I understood what it was. Since I was still an only child at that point, my parents were able to get me into a nicer club in the city."

He suddenly pauses for a moment, but regains his composure quickly and continues. "It obviously became more expensive as the years went on and as I kept moving up levels, even more so when Danny was born. My parents were actually going to pull me out, but the other parents on my team at the time put together an entire campaign to keep me in. I owe them so much, because I wouldn't have had the opportunities I do if it weren't for them."

"That's wonderful. Good for them." my dad says, a real and genuine smile on his face. "It's nice to hear that there are still good people out there."

Dean nods in agreement, and my dad hits him again with yet another question. "So, how'd you end up in Minnesota?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Dean answers with a laugh, which makes my parents laugh as well. "I'm only here because of hockey, and that's because I played with the Ducks in the Goodwill Games four years ago. I didn't think I'd see them again afterwards, because I didn't want to sign the contract that Eden Hall offered to me and the rest of the Team USA members. I felt horrible about the fact that I would be leaving my mom and brother in Chicago, while I got to go to a really nice school and live out my hockey dream. It just didn't seem fair to me."

"But you're here now." my dad points out. "What changed?"

"Well, Gordon Bombay showed up at my door on a random Friday morning and basically demanded me to 'sign the damn contract.'" Dean responds nonchalantly, holding up air quotes when he imitates Bombay's words. "I was only planning on staying for the season when I first signed the contract, but then I met your daughter and everything changed."

I can't help but blush at his statement, because I never knew that I've made so much of an impact on him. That, and also because it was really romantic. And by the way my mother practically swoons, you'd think that she's the one with a crush on him.

I look to my dad, who has an unreadable expression on his face. I notice how nervous Dean looks, but my father's sudden grin makes me feel at ease. He reaches out his hand to Dean, who hesitantly takes it. My dad gives him a good handshake, smiling the whole time. "You're alright kid. I like you."

The unmistakable relief on Dean's face is obvious, and I feel like I've hit the jackpot. The waiter comes out with our food shortly after, and the conversation is wonderful. Lots of jokes, laughs, and smiles are shared between the four of us, and when the bill comes, Dean doesn't even let my father look at it. He just pulls out his card and places it inside.

As we walk out to the car, I feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. The plan worked. Dean's plan worked. And now, we've taken one of many steps in the right direction.