There Will be No Leftovers

Content Warning: Depiction of Death

The ring of the bell was heard throughout the entirety of Beatrice’s two story home. This bell had become quite a routine for the Beckett’s. There were eight of them in all and I cannot say that these were an exciting bunch of people. They were your typical American family sitting down and enjoying each others company. But there was an order. An order that never wavered. And so each sat down one by one around the hickory wooden table as if doing a role call.

Bryan. He helps his mother quite a bit with the dinner making. The oldest of Beatrice’s two children.

Becky. Bryan’s wife. 

Blare. 16 years old.

Buster.10 years old

Blake. 8 years old. 

These were Bryan and Becky’s three children. Each with the burnt red hair inherited by their father.  

Brianna. Beatrice’s second born. Can be found sitting on the couch watching Youtube videos and flipping through social media while the others prepare the meal.

John. Brianna’s husband. To Beatrice’s dismay, Brianna didn’t find a husband that kept with family tradition.

Brianna and John lived at her mothers home. Not because their father had passed away five months ago, albeit true, it was more of her many failed jobs and Beatrice was not one to turn away family. Bryan and Becky came over every night to enjoy time with Beatrice but it wasn’t without their own hidden agenda. They wanted to keep an eye on things knowing how Brianna and John are. 

With that being said the eight of them joined hands and said their dinner prayer ending it with a unison amen. 

Pot roast with mashed potatoes were on the menu tonight. Blake, as the youngest was given his serving of food first. It was piled on and for a kid of his age, one would typically raise an eyebrow. His mash potatoes was a mountain of starch. 

“It’s not fair! Why does he get so much food while the rest of us have to divvy the rest up amongst the seven of us?” Brianna shouted from across the table. This wasn’t without her eye roll and scoff. 

“Yeah. Every night his portion is always double even triple what I get sometime. He’s just a kid for Christ sake.” Brianna was backed up by her husband. There was a bit of silence that fell over the table. This wasn’t beneath the two of them to complain over the food that was prepared at no cost to them. There was a sense of entitlement. They wanted the perks of the age but didn’t want the responsibility. The responsibility of having a steady paying job or finding your own home. Bryan has voiced his concern to his mother many times. But each time it was met with a case of denial. 

Secretly Beatrice knew exactly what was going on. But to be frank after the sudden passing of her husband, she couldn’t care less. Family was important to her and she hadn’t seen Brianna and John much prior to the funeral. At least now she can keep an eye on them. 

“Everyone will get their share. No need to fret, I have made plenty for all of us. He is getting no more than what he usually gets. Besides Blake is growing he needs the protein.” Which was of course true and everyone watched as he started and finished his plate of food. He was excused from the table and then it was Buster’s turn. He was granted his normal portion and again there were complaints from the peanut gallery. 

“What’s stopping us from eating first? Hogging all the mash potatoes for ourselves?” Brianna spoke again. 

“Honey, its tradition. So while you wait your turn think of why this tradition is necessary.” 

Of course Brianna didn’t think much on this and only followed it with a grunt to voice her displeasure.

 However Buster’s small hands bore grasp to the fork, and just like his brother, he ate every last bit of it. 

“Thank you grandma for the delicious food.”

“You’re welcome dear.” She kissed the forehead of her grandson as access granted on leaving. But that was the extent of Blake and Buster’s interaction with the family during dinner. It’s the typical dine and dash in every sense of the phrase. They came to dinner and went back to whatever show they were watching prior, probably something on PBS kids. However, they gave no extra comment and were just there for the attendance. But things were different with Blare. She was old enough. 

“Are you all coming to my game on Friday? Tracy says that Brookwood is down their best player.”

“How great to hear! I hated Brookwood when I was your age. That school is full of entitled brats.” Brianna said. This irony of this statement had not been lost at everyone at the table except for John and herself.

“Nah. I feel bad for her. She broke her leg. She’s out for the season. Yeah it gives us more hope in making the championships but I’d be devastated if I was her.”

“Same. Maybe we should make her a dinner for her family to show our support.” Becky said as she began plating pot roast onto her daughters plate knowing this was going to drive Brianna crazy. Better this than more complaining about portion sizes. 

“I suppose! But she cannot possibly be good if she broke her leg. I would never. I mean you would never. But anyway, I’d love to go to your game but John and I have plans that day.” Brianna excused herself from going. Not because she actually had plans with her husband but if it wasn’t about her or something she wanted to do, Brianna Beckett didn’t do it.

John’s eyebrows furrowed and turned his head toward his wife.

“We do?” This comment was followed by a kick under the table that luckily Blare didn’t notice. 

“No problem there’s always the next one.”

“Yeah.” Becky didn’t comment anything more about it to avoid the awkwardness already present. 

Becky finished her food quicker than her brothers. The sheer quickness of eating was not more or less any quicker than her brother’s, she just received a plate less full. 

When finished she exited the table similar to Buster; granting her grandmother a kiss and exited. 

“Love you!” 

Next to eat was Brianna and John. These two insisted that they were given their food at the same time. Two peas in a pod. A rotten one according to Bryan. They were given equal shares that were much smaller than what was given to the children. As John had already pointed out, they were given roughly one third of what Blake was given. A single scoop for each and a normal share of pot roast. Well what should be considered normal. 

“That’s it?” Brianna complained. Now that the kids have left the table there was nothing that held back the adults from talking. 

“Now hold on. That’s all you have to say. No thank yous or this looks good. Instead you complain. Be grateful you have food and a place to live.”

“Here we go going all preachy again! You just think you’re better than me. You know..”

“I don’t think I’m better than you, I just know how to show appreciation. I honestly don’t know how we fell from the same tree!”

“Likewise!” 

“Enough,” A new voice emerged from the head of the table. Their mother. “How is the food?” 

“Fine.” Brianna glared at her brother. John was silent as he always was when his wife got into her fights with her brother. But in truth Brianna hadn’t even tried her food before giving her scathing review.

“Thanks for the food.” John said at the halfway point of their dinner. They all sat in silent as the two finished their meals. They got up and left leaving three people at the table. 

Bryan, Becky, and Beatrice. 

Becky began to dish herself up a plate while Bryan confronted his mother. 

“Why do you let her treat you like that.”

“You know how important you all are to me right?” He did. 

“Must be awfully important if you are willing to deal with her shallowness.” 

“You two are going to have to get along with each other. There’s a reason why you are placed after your sister in meals that goes well beyond the fact that you are older. You are more open minded and I think it’s better this way. Please after they finish their meals reflect on your relationship.” His head fell. He knew his mother wasn’t going to live forever and Brianna was the only family he had outside of his wife and three kids. 

“I promise I’ll play nice to the best of my ability. It’s just hard for me to sit back and watch as you are taken advantage of.” 

Beatrice outstretched her hand to hold his head by his right cheek, caressing it as she spoke.

“I know and I love you for that. But there are things you have to look past. Think of the positives she adds to the family. She can relate to your daughter and she does keep me company.” 

“You’re right.” Blake got up to grab his sister from the other room. 

“I’m sorry.” He gave her a hug. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. Okay I did, but I want you to know I love you. Can we agree to meet each other halfway.” He was asking her to be a decent person while he didn’t comment on her lifestyle. They agreed and Brianna returned to her scrolling on social media. 

“Thank you.” Beatrice said as Becky finished her small plate of food. Becky got up and took her plate along with the other deserted and used plates. 

This left just the two of them sitting at the table alone. Six empty chairs and two filled ones. 

“Promise me something. Promise me that you two will continue to make positive strides. Promise me that you two will never leave each other alone. No one deserves that and in your case if either of you would to decide to cut ties with each other, you’d be making the decision for the other.” 

“Yes I promise! I love her and I know she loves me.” 

“Thanks.” Beatrice got up from her seat to kiss her son on the forehead. When she plopped down, she scanned the table for what was left.

“Oh no honey. There is not enough for the both of us to eat. There is barely any for just you alone. You have it.” Beatrice’s shaky voice concerned her son. But she was right. There really wasn’t much left after his wife finished her plate.  

“I couldn’t possibly. You made most of it not me.” Bryan’s hand blocked his mothers from giving him the last of the pot roast and mashed potatoes. It was enough to feed a tiny malnourished dog. To Bryan it was becoming a common occurrence. He was eating less and less because the other members of the family were eating more and more. He knew that his kids needed the food but with Brianna and John’s complaining he had sacrificed his portion so that they could have more.

“I insist. There’s always another meal.” Beatrice stared into her son’s eyes and gave a slightly curled smile. One that pleaded for him to eat. So he did just that. 

“Okay but next time you will have my share. You must not be eating a lot lately. And when I’m done I’ll do the dishes.”

“You’ve always been kind to me. When you were a kid and through your adulthood. Thank you my son.” 

The two of them enjoyed their time together. They talked while Bryan finished the family leftovers. And when he left, Beatrice was left alone to reflect. Reflect on her life and how lucky she was to have the ones she loved around her every night at the dinner table. She also came to terms with her life. Because as Bryan made note, she hadn’t been eating anything the last week. She didn’t eat so that her family could. She provided for them so that they could live. So that they could enjoy what life has to offer because she already had. Beatrice was coming to the realization that her husband had five months prior. Family is worth every moment. Through the ups and the downs as long as you had each other, you were winning. She was happy to see that in the last five months her family had come together at this dinner table every night to enjoy, to the best of their abilities, each other’s company. Family was everything.

And she was everything to her family. She was also everything to her husband. Now it was time for her to join him. 

Beatrice drew her last breath. As the life drew from her body so did it leave the table. Her body laid limp and bore decoration as much as the floral arrangements did as the centerpiece.

Bryan found his mother sitting dormant. Bryan’s whole body tensed up as the realization that her eyes were fixated on the ceiling. It was from mourning his mother in that moment but what he did not know is that he was also mourning the loss of himself. It will not be long before Bryan’s fate will be the same as his mother’s. It will be the same as his father’s. Because not five months prior Beatrice had her last full meal when her husband died. It was then where she survived on scraps that was left at the table. It had led her to now. But at some point the crumbs just aren’t enough. Your body becomes frail. Beatrice did everything she could to hide it from her family up until she departed from this world. But now she must pass that torch onto her son. He will soon understand the dark effects of the tradition that she had come to terms with some time ago.

But for now, Bryan took the roast pan from the dinning room table knowing very well that the next meal he would make it would be for his very ungrateful family. He would need to make a meal for 7 now. However he sat down and wondered one thing. 

Have I just eaten my last meal?

Yes. Bryan Beckett had done just that.