Family Dinner

“Oh my god, Mom, that’s so not what hook up means”, Caroline covers her face with her hands and groans, lamenting the cruel god that has placed her in this life with this family.

“Well, we did! We hooked up at the concert, sat together, and caught up, and you know how she loves to talk about her kids. Did you know Ian is gay now? He-”

“I’m literally begging you to stop talking,” Laura says through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, when they hear a set of lethargic footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Okay, everyone, be cool and be nice,” Mom warns, looking each of them in the eye. The tension rises with each footfall creeping closer.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” Mom chirps as Mel makes her sluggish way into the kitchen. She plops down heavily into her seat at the foot of the table and rubs her eyes, the motion of which causes the XXL pajama shirt to fall past one skinny shoulder.

“I told you guys I’m not hungry, and I don’t eat red meat,” she complains through a yawn.

“You asked for steak for your birthday dinner three months ago,” Caroline reminds her, casting a pointed look towards Laura.

“Yeah, CC, three whole months ago. That’s like... three hair colors ago,” Mel points out, tucking the rose gold strands that have escaped her messy bun behind her ear for emphasis.

“What’s wrong with hooking up?” Dad asks.

“Apparently, the kids use it as code for sex,” Mom replies matter-of-factly.

This prompts Dad’s reply of, “Well, how would they know that?” – only to be drowned out by Mel’s dramatic “Ewww. You guys were talking about sex at the dinner table? This is why I don’t eat with you.”

“We weren’t talking about sex. I was just saying how Ian Bradley is gay now–”

“Ian Bradley is gay?”

“Can we please stop saying sex?”

“Mom, he was always gay, you just didn’t know it,” come the replies from the three girls, the clash of which prevents a coherent response from any one party and results in a lingering silence filled with scraping forks and quiet chewing.

“So I hear Kristy got laid off,” Mom says after a few moments, sparking a mind-numbing conversation about work between her and Dad. Mel takes this as her cue to put on headphones and tune out the rest of the family, evidently blind to the fact that her wearing headphones has no effect on everyone’s ability to hear her rapping at the dinner table. “Mel, can you please stop?” Caroline asks, exhaustion lacing every word. Conveniently, Mel does not hear this request, despite making direct eye contact with Caroline the entire time.

“His management style is just so irritating,” Dad gripes to Mom from the head of the table.

“Yeah, they after me. I got racks on me,” Mel sings on the opposite end, pulsing her fist to the inaudible beat.

“Oh my god,” Caroline mouths to Laura, who smiles to herself, most content amidst the chaos.

“Mellie, honey, take those headphones out, we're eating dinner,” Mom scolds, and this time, Mel hears just fine.

“But, Mom,” she says, one earbud between her fingers, “It’s A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie.”

Caroline asks, “Who is Boogie With A Hoodie?” – to which Mel replies, “Caroline, how do you not know A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie?”

“In what world would I know Boogie With Da Hoodie?” Caroline deadpans and turns back to her green beans.

“Boogay with a hooday,” Mom sings.

Mel stops her with one hand up, “It’s not a song, Mom, it's the artist. And don’t sing his name like that. He’s a gangster, he’s literally killed people.”

“Oh my..” Mom says, eyes wide and focused on spearing a piece of steak.

They continue eating; Mel with one earbud in, Caroline with her eyes laser-focused on her beans, Dad oblivious to any semblance of awkward tension.

“So, Laura,” Mom begins, desperately steering the conversation away from the hoodie-wearing-gangster, “How’s your little BF?”

Laura sets her fork down, combative and mortified. “He is not little, and he is decidedly not my boyfriend.”

“I don’t know, Mom, I saw them eating lunch together in the cafeteria. They were sharing fries and he put his hand on her leg under the table and–”

“Ooookayyy!” Dad says, hands up in an attempt to fend off the prospect of this boy touching his middle daughter.

“A hand on her leg? Laura… are you having… being intimate with a man?” Mom says gently, almost timidly.

“Eww, Mom, gross. No, I’m not, and nobody even says being intimate anymore.”

“Making love?” Mel suggests cheekily, positively chipper now that this woeful dinner has sparked some intriguing conversation.

“That’s arguably worse… Snitch,” Laura says under her breath, casting a betrayed look Mel’s way. “Besides, I don’t even like him like that and he probably won’t even ask me out anyway so it doesn’t even matter,” Laura continues, desperate to veer this conversation anywhere else.

“Well. Good,” Dad harrumphs at the same time Mom touches her shoulder and says, “Nonsense… he would be lucky to have you. But if you’re being intimate, I need to tell you–”

“Can I be excused?” Caroline abruptly stands, knocking her knees into the table in the process.

“No, we’re not done eating. Caroline, say something nice to your sister. She’s feeling sad.”

“I’m not feeling sad, I don’t even like him!” Laura protests, fingers on temples and eyes aghast.

“Okay, well, then I need to go to the bathroom.” Caroline pivots and speed walks her way to the restroom, hand cradling her knee where it smashed into the table.

“Okay…she totally didn’t need to pee,” Mel says, taking a bite of her carrot.

Laura, face burning, sits in silence for a moment before she begins to laugh. She looks over at Mel, who smiles back, and suddenly the whole table is laughing, apart from Dad who shakes his head, equal parts exhausted and relieved. Caroline emerges silently from the bathroom minutes later, a hopeful look on her face as she notes the cheerful ease the table has slipped into.

Throughout the rest of the meal, they learn that Caroline didn’t make the cut for swimming regionals, which likely accounted for her on-edge attitude all night. Mel feeds her carrots from her open palm, the sheer ridiculousness of which causes Caroline to finally crack a smile. They argue over whether the Eucharist is really Jesus’ transubstantiated body (Mom, Laura, and Mel say yes; Caroline and Dad say no), and Mom resolves to ask Father Peter about it at Sunday Mass. After the meal, they split silently into their individual tasks; Caroline packages the leftovers to take to the neighbors, Mom cleans the table, Laura and Dad do the dishes, and Mel retreats into hibernation, which Mom allows, much to Caroline and Laura’s chagrin. When all is complete, they go their separate ways; Mom and Dad to the TV, Laura to the neighbor’s house, Caroline to her books; each with the silent comfort that they will do it all again tomorrow.