A/N: I've been out of town for the past three days so that's why I haven't
posted recently. I had it almost ready and then, of all things we go out
to the middle of Maine. Of course, ,this chapter wasn't quite ready so it
just had to wait 'til this Monday.
.
.
.
As she left the men behind her, Madison took control of setting the table for the dinner by instructing the three children in the room, "Now Jeremy. Would you put these on the table? Here you are, Jackie, put the salad right there. Emma, could you get six plates from the cabinet? Thank you, dear."
By the time the two men came in from the hall, the table was set and the meal steamed invitingly from the dishes. After some staring about by everyone, trying to figure out who would sit where, Madison again took charge.
"Oh, honestly. You bunch of babies. Andy, you sit over there. Emma, you get next to him. Ephram sit here. Come on, Jacklyn, and Jeremy right there would be perfect."
The almost painful tension in the room continued on as everyone took their seats where the woman had specified. By the time they had all sat, Mrs. Brown looked around the table and threw her hands up in frustration.
Her husband was consistently glaring at the poor boy and, naturally, his father just had to follow suite. Of course, since Andy was doing it, Emma had to mimic him! So now, Jeremy was cowering in his seat at her family and Jacklyn was trying to give everyone the same treatment they were giving her boyfriend!
When had she gotten such a big bunch of stubborn ... people for a family? She just hoped the stupid glaring thing was genetic.
After a moment of continued scowling from almost everyone at the table, she came to the conclusion that it would just continue if she didn't do something now to salvage the dinner.
"So... Jeremy, how are you?"
"F-fine Mrs. Brown. Ma'am."
"And how's school?"
"Great. We've just been finalizing applications for college. Ma'am"
"Oh, really? Do you have a top five yet?"
"Oh, I already got into Notre Dame on a football scholarship."
Ephram finally opened his mouth to speak and Madison let a sigh of relief slip through. Maybe he was going to just get over his immediate dislike and at least attempt to get along!
"So you just got in on football? What? Not smart enough otherwise?"
Then her ass of a husband had to actually speak. Just wonderful.
"N-no. I get pretty good grades. Sir"
"Yeah, Dad he's been getting Honors all year."
"But you're still going on a scholarship?"
"Yeah. I mean, yes I am. Sir."
"So, you probably think college is just fun and games. Going to play around and goof off all year."
"No. I've got a full course load and-"
"Oh, really? And what are you majoring in?"
"I don't have a major, Ma'am."
"No major? Really. Isn't that... interesting."
"Oh, honey? When did you decide your major?" Madison innocently looked up at her dear husband. If he thought this was going to be his way into hating the boy, then he had another thing coming.
"...Sophmore year. Damn it."
"So, Mr. Brown, what was your major?"
"Neurosurgery."
"Piano," Both Andy and Ephram said in unison in reply to the question.
"Um, Jeremy? They're both Mr. Brown."
"Oh! ... Neurosurgery?" Jackie's grandfather was a neurosurgeon?
"He used to be the highest recommended doctor in New York," Jacklyn stated proudly.
"But, aren't you the local doctor?"
"Yes, I am," the tight-lipped Andy tersely responded.
"Why is it that you don't charge for any appointments? I mean, rumor has it that you never have. Not for, what is it? Twenty years?"
"Twenty-one years, and I do go out and charge for my services when I'm in New York."
Jeremy continued the conversation blithely since it was finally proceeding with a less aggressive tone, "But still. How does your wife, Mrs. Brown, feel about it?"
"Jeremy!" Jacklyn hissed towards him in disbelief.
Andy stared at the boy for a moment, "My wife died twenty-one years ago."
"Oh! Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...," he trailed off, trying to think of something appropriate to say.
"That's quite alright, Jeremy."
Great, just great. The tension was back. Silence resounded through the room yet again, and everyone started fumbling around attempting to figure out what to say next.
The awkward moment stretched out over the minutes and they were still struggling to speak. If only someone would say something, anything!
A little voice piped up, "I kicked David!"
"Emma!"
"You what?"
"When?"
"What did he do?"
"Did you make him cry?"
"Jacklyn!"
"What? Everyone was wondering," she looked around the table, "Okay, just me then."
After the ice was broken, conversation flowed rather smoothly with only a few outbursts from Ephram. He seemed to be the last remaining activist for the 'Must-destroy-Jeremy-or-at-least-scare-him-into-leaving' club and was therefore pretty ineffective.
Emma quickly warmed up to the handsome young man, and Andy was brought in probably just because of the bumbling charm. He stumbled into some of the most unusual topics of conversation. If it was uncomfortable for him, then he could assume how the other person felt! Of all things to fumble in, he had to mention a dead wife. A dead wife. Stuff he probably should know BEFORE going to dinner.
Of course, he tended to blow things out of proportion so it wasn't as bad as he imagined.
All in all, the dinner turned out to be a pleasant affair.
Kind of.
.
.
.
.
V (Ritual sacrifices must be made. Donations are appreciated.)
.
.
.
As she left the men behind her, Madison took control of setting the table for the dinner by instructing the three children in the room, "Now Jeremy. Would you put these on the table? Here you are, Jackie, put the salad right there. Emma, could you get six plates from the cabinet? Thank you, dear."
By the time the two men came in from the hall, the table was set and the meal steamed invitingly from the dishes. After some staring about by everyone, trying to figure out who would sit where, Madison again took charge.
"Oh, honestly. You bunch of babies. Andy, you sit over there. Emma, you get next to him. Ephram sit here. Come on, Jacklyn, and Jeremy right there would be perfect."
The almost painful tension in the room continued on as everyone took their seats where the woman had specified. By the time they had all sat, Mrs. Brown looked around the table and threw her hands up in frustration.
Her husband was consistently glaring at the poor boy and, naturally, his father just had to follow suite. Of course, since Andy was doing it, Emma had to mimic him! So now, Jeremy was cowering in his seat at her family and Jacklyn was trying to give everyone the same treatment they were giving her boyfriend!
When had she gotten such a big bunch of stubborn ... people for a family? She just hoped the stupid glaring thing was genetic.
After a moment of continued scowling from almost everyone at the table, she came to the conclusion that it would just continue if she didn't do something now to salvage the dinner.
"So... Jeremy, how are you?"
"F-fine Mrs. Brown. Ma'am."
"And how's school?"
"Great. We've just been finalizing applications for college. Ma'am"
"Oh, really? Do you have a top five yet?"
"Oh, I already got into Notre Dame on a football scholarship."
Ephram finally opened his mouth to speak and Madison let a sigh of relief slip through. Maybe he was going to just get over his immediate dislike and at least attempt to get along!
"So you just got in on football? What? Not smart enough otherwise?"
Then her ass of a husband had to actually speak. Just wonderful.
"N-no. I get pretty good grades. Sir"
"Yeah, Dad he's been getting Honors all year."
"But you're still going on a scholarship?"
"Yeah. I mean, yes I am. Sir."
"So, you probably think college is just fun and games. Going to play around and goof off all year."
"No. I've got a full course load and-"
"Oh, really? And what are you majoring in?"
"I don't have a major, Ma'am."
"No major? Really. Isn't that... interesting."
"Oh, honey? When did you decide your major?" Madison innocently looked up at her dear husband. If he thought this was going to be his way into hating the boy, then he had another thing coming.
"...Sophmore year. Damn it."
"So, Mr. Brown, what was your major?"
"Neurosurgery."
"Piano," Both Andy and Ephram said in unison in reply to the question.
"Um, Jeremy? They're both Mr. Brown."
"Oh! ... Neurosurgery?" Jackie's grandfather was a neurosurgeon?
"He used to be the highest recommended doctor in New York," Jacklyn stated proudly.
"But, aren't you the local doctor?"
"Yes, I am," the tight-lipped Andy tersely responded.
"Why is it that you don't charge for any appointments? I mean, rumor has it that you never have. Not for, what is it? Twenty years?"
"Twenty-one years, and I do go out and charge for my services when I'm in New York."
Jeremy continued the conversation blithely since it was finally proceeding with a less aggressive tone, "But still. How does your wife, Mrs. Brown, feel about it?"
"Jeremy!" Jacklyn hissed towards him in disbelief.
Andy stared at the boy for a moment, "My wife died twenty-one years ago."
"Oh! Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...," he trailed off, trying to think of something appropriate to say.
"That's quite alright, Jeremy."
Great, just great. The tension was back. Silence resounded through the room yet again, and everyone started fumbling around attempting to figure out what to say next.
The awkward moment stretched out over the minutes and they were still struggling to speak. If only someone would say something, anything!
A little voice piped up, "I kicked David!"
"Emma!"
"You what?"
"When?"
"What did he do?"
"Did you make him cry?"
"Jacklyn!"
"What? Everyone was wondering," she looked around the table, "Okay, just me then."
After the ice was broken, conversation flowed rather smoothly with only a few outbursts from Ephram. He seemed to be the last remaining activist for the 'Must-destroy-Jeremy-or-at-least-scare-him-into-leaving' club and was therefore pretty ineffective.
Emma quickly warmed up to the handsome young man, and Andy was brought in probably just because of the bumbling charm. He stumbled into some of the most unusual topics of conversation. If it was uncomfortable for him, then he could assume how the other person felt! Of all things to fumble in, he had to mention a dead wife. A dead wife. Stuff he probably should know BEFORE going to dinner.
Of course, he tended to blow things out of proportion so it wasn't as bad as he imagined.
All in all, the dinner turned out to be a pleasant affair.
Kind of.
.
.
.
.
V (Ritual sacrifices must be made. Donations are appreciated.)