Family Dinner Party

Red brick manors, spacious lawns, and evergreens studded the picturesque postcard village. The
Andersons resided in the town's heart, in a neighborhood that everyone who was anyone called home.
The Andersons were a picture-perfect family of four to their neighbors and friends, teachers and
classmates, and just about everyone else.

Joanna, a sleek, dark-haired woman in the Anderson family, was working in the kitchen. She gently laid
sprigs of rosemary over a pot roast, making a capital J, while she stood by the stove.

She dialed Jaime, John Jr. and waited for a response.

No one showed up.

It was almost five o'clock, one hour before the commencement of the Family Dinner Party, which took
place every Friday night, regardless of school or job obligations, neighborhood socials, or high school
get-togethers. Family Dinner Party was like Christmas to Joanna: it was indelibly inscribed into the
calendar, never to be forgotten or skipped.

“Jaime” "John Jr," she shouted again, this time louder.

Footsteps could be heard in the hallway, becoming louder as they got closer to the kitchen. Jaime
stormed through the kitchen door, followed by a grumpy John Jr., just as Joanna was about to put the
pot roast in the oven.

"Dad hasn't even arrived yet," Jaime explained. A seventeen-year-old raven-haired girl with brown eyes
that twinkled with glee or blazed with disdain, depending on the situation. "His automobile isn't parked
in the garage."

The windows were rattling due to the wind. Joanna, Jaime, and John Jr. all jumped to their feet.

Joanna said, "Wait here." She walked to the front of the house and opened the door after wiping her
hands with a towel. Outside, the sun had set completely, shrouding the houses across the street in a
black and grey haze. A particle of ice dropped on her face as she was about to close the door. Joanna
looked up to see pellets raining down from the sky, pelting the Andersons' windows and skylights in a
symphony of raps and taps.

Joanna slammed the door behind her and dashed back to the kitchen, where the aromas of rosemary
and garlic filled the room. When she spotted Jaime and John Jr. by the island, she grinned. They were
just where she'd left them.

"I think we're in for a snowfall," Joanna said.

"Mom, that smells lovely," John Jr commented. John Jr., two years Jaime's junior, was towering where
Jaime was small and quiet where Jaime was raucous. When he smirked, he had his father's hazel eyes
and thick lips that inclined to the side.

She sat next to John Jr on the island, reaching for a bottle of wine and poured a glass. "I figured I'd
prepare your favorite dish, pot roast, tonight."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not really," he answered, but as he saw Joanna's smile fail, he backtracked
and continued, "I do like it a lot."

The lights in the kitchen flickered in time with the shuddering of a wide bay window across the room,
causing everyone to glance up in surprise.

“Weird”. Jaime slapped her phone on the counter and said, "There's still no weather advisory."

Joanna scowled and gave her daughter a stern look. "Remember, there were no phones?"

"Dad isn't here," says the narrator. "This dreadful supper hasn't even begun."

"It's not foolish," Joanna stated emphatically. "It's the only night we dine as a family," she said as she
sipped her wine.

Jaime's brows furrowed. "Aren't you concerned about Dad's tardiness?"

I'll take another sip of wine. "What makes you think I'm worried?"

With a grimace, Jaime answered, "You're so oblivious."

John Jr sprung from his seat, his gaze falling on his sister. He told Jaime to "shut up."

Jaime's tone, on the other hand, became more assertive. "How come you're protecting her?"

"What the heck are you up to?"

"Hello, John Jr!"

Joanna screamed and dashed between her children. "Give me that phone," she said, snatching it from
Jaime's grip.

"What the heck is going on in here?" asked another voice, John's, as he entered the kitchen, mouth
agape and eyes as wide as dinner plates, coat in one hand, briefcase in the other.

The lights in the kitchen flickered once, twice, and then went completely out, as if blown out by the
wind, before anybody could react.

An ominous shadow loomed overhead, and the only thing they could see was the hand in front of their
faces as John and Joanna tried to exchange worried glances.

"I'll go get some flashlights," John said as he exited the room.

"It's off," he muttered as he stepped over to the refrigerator, opened it, and then closed it again. "It's
the same."
Jaime stepped out of the kitchen for a time, then returned with a heavy sigh. "The TV, Alexa, and the
internet are all turned off."

Joanna leaned against the island and rested her head in her hands, her eyes closed.

Jaime told her mother, "So much for your lovely evening." "Can you please return my phone to me?"

"No, you can't," Joanna stated emphatically. "Even if the electricity is off, we can still be together.”

"Found each of you a flashlight," John said as he returned to the island with four flashlights. It's not
much, but it's better than being completely blind.

He was absolutely correct. Despite the fact that each flashlight was turned on, darkness engulfed them,
concealing every surface in the kitchen and filling the gaps between them with molasses-like black holes.

"At the very least, we can see each other's faces," Joanna added as she poured another glass of wine.
"Shi-shoot," she murmured, rubbing her apron with her finger. "Who wants to place an order for food?"

Jaime responded, "I thought we couldn't have our phones."

"I just wanted to place an order for dinner." "Just this time," Joanna murmured, returning Jaime's phone
to her daughter's grip.

Jaime quickly placed it on the counter. "I can't even get it to turn on."

Joanna frantically searched through her belongings for her pocketbook, rummaging among keys,
notepads, pens, and lipsticks. "It's the same with mine."

John rummaged through his pockets. He frowned down at his phone and muttered, "That's hilarious." "It
was simply turned on for me." "It's off now," John remarked. "Do you mean John Jr?"

From down the hall, John Jr answered, "Yup." "Mine is no longer alive."

"Fuuuuuuuck," Jaime said, raising her face to the sky as if it could save her.

"Jaime, be careful what you say!" " Joanna remarked. She went for her wine glass with a shaking hand.

"I forgot that large awful words make you grasp your pearls," says the narrator.

"Enough, Jaime," John shouted as he moved over to Joanna's side. Jaime walked over to the dining table
and sat down with a flourish, leaving her seat by the island. "Is it possible for this night to be any
worse?"

"We have snacks," Joanna remarked, her voice as cheery as she could. "Please have a seat at the table
while I go get them."

Joanna reappeared a few moments later, carrying packs of chips and crackers. She then set a board
packed with cheese, grapes, jellies, and almonds a few seconds later. Joanna sat down after brushing
her hands together and smiling at her job.

The family ate in an awkward quiet, which was made worse by Joanna's probing inquiries.
She was virtually begging for help. Joanna responded, "Come on, Jaime." "You must be ecstatic." It's
Harvard," she says.

Jaime took a grape and popped it into her mouth. “So? It's a location. "The same as any other."

"I spoke with Coach Riley, and he stated you never contacted him to join the golf team this year," John
replied as he sliced a wedge of cheese.

"Been busy," John Jr shrugged.

"What are you doing?" John said as he placed down the cheese knife.

“Stuff.”

"What stuff?" John inquired, his gaze fixed on his kid.

"What do you mean it's a place like any other?" Joanna said, taking a long swallow of wine from her
third glass of the night. "Jaime, answer me now."

Jaime placed her fork on the table. "Does it make a difference what I think?"

The inquiry elicited a resounding "no." from Joanna. "In less than eight months, you'll be there." Aren't
you curious about how life will turn out?”

"Who's to say I'm not going?"

Joanna took a deep breath and swallowed. John and John Jr. both became immobile. "Excuse me?"
Joanna said, her voice trembling.

With a shake of her head, Jaime expressed her dissatisfaction with the situation. "I'm not going," says
the narrator.

John's nostrils flared as he leaned forward. "Are you saying you're not going?"

Jaime took another grape and chewed it. "I never completed my acceptance paperwork and never sent
them in." I'll be in Columbia. "I'd want to work as a journalist."

Joanna slammed the glass on the table after finishing the rest of her wine. "Did you say when you were
going to inform us?"

"Don't be so downhearted, Mother. It's still an excellent school."

Joanna's mouth was agape. "That's not the point," says the narrator.

"At school, I won a photography contest," John Jr softly said.

John's tone was harsh and hard as he continued, "Jaime." "Can you imagine what your mother went
through to get you here?"

“Ha!" replied Jaime. She shifted in her seat, her eyes shifting between her parents. "Why does she give a
damn!" says the narrator. “She's constantly half-drunk."

Joanna leapt from her seat. Her feet wobbled, so she balanced herself by pressing her palms against the
table. "You have no idea what you're talking about,".
Jaime burst out laughing. "You can't even stand up straight, Mom," I say.

John rose to his feet and placed the tip of his finger inches from Jaime's nose. "You've crossed the
boundary."

"Who am I?" " Jaime screamed angrily. "Dad, why are you now working late all the time?" Why were you
late tonight, for example?”

"It has nothing to do with you."

John Jr locked his gaze on his sister. "Jaime, put a stop to it."

“Why?" Jaime said, raising her fists in the air. "She drinks as if it were her job." He hasn't been seen in a
long time. "And don't even get me started on all the times you were supposed to come see my tennis
matches," she said, her gaze falling on both of her parents. "Both of you are a bit of a slacker when it
comes to showing up. I can count on one hand how many games you attended to."

"I was at work!" Joanna remarked.

Jaime said, "About that." "How's it doing with the book?"

"Mom, she has a point," John Jr stated.

Joanna was confronted by her son.

"You're not here." "You always have a new book to write," he observed, mockingly, "and PTA meetings,
lunches, and neighborhood parties."

"I take care of such things for you," Joanna murmured, biting her lower lip. "I get involved in these
activities to help you make relationships."

Something Joanna said made John Jr lose his cool. "This supper is a waste of time."” Mom, it's all a ruse.
Because you're so busy marketing us as this beautiful, happy family, you need this supper to feel good
about yourself. You write about us in your ridiculous therapeutic books as if your words can change the
world. In actuality, you have no idea who I am or what I do. Us. We lie to one other all the time in our
household."

John Jr shifted his gaze to his father. "I despise golf!" " He yelled. "I despise golf. There's nothing about
that pretentious sport that I enjoy."

"Well, this has just become interesting," Jaime smirked.

John Jr said, "Fuck you, Jaime." "Everyone is always looking at you. This is for Jaime. That's Jaime. Jaime
has accepted a position at Harvard University. Oh, Jaime, you're flawless, you'll never put a foot wrong."

"It's not my fault I'm an excellent student."

John Jr clenched his fists and slammed his palms down on the table. "You are a jerk." “Behind your back,
everyone spits on you. All of your ostensible pals. Everyone.”

Jaime snarled, "Liar." "You made something up because you couldn't find somebody to sit with you at
lunch."
John yelled, "Stop it, Jaime." "You've crossed the boundary."

Jaime bit her lower lip and leaned back in her chair for the first time that night. Her vision had become
blurry.

"I won a photography prize while you were straining your asses to get her into a university she couldn't
care less about." He exclaimed, "That's right, I won something!" My photographs will also be on show at
the Art Gallery of Ontario. "As if any of you are interested in what I do."

John attempted to touch John Jr's hand across the table but was refused. He glanced to Joanna and said,
"You're exactly as wicked as her." "She's off in her own little world, and you're a liar."

John looked disheartened as he placed his outstretched palm on the table. "How are you able to say
that?"

"I see the texts, Dad," says the narrator. "The phone calls."

"And you're usually late," Jaime said.

"You're a hypocrite and a liar," John Jr replied.

"What are they talking about, John?" Joanna said, looking at John and then at John Jr. Joanna inquired,
her voice as quiet as a mouse's squeak.

"I've been meaning to tell you," John began, but was interrupted by Joanna's cry.

Joanna screamed, "Tell me what."

"Please relax," John murmured, his tone soothing. "It isn't what you believe."

Jaime stated, "That's what they all say."

"Jaime!" John and Joanna both exclaimed at the same time.

Jaime remarked, "I saw you, Dad." "While you were supposed to be looking for flashlights, I noticed you
messaging her."

"She's my therapist!"

John said, throwing his fists in the air. "I misplaced a significant case. Because of a falsehood, many have
lost their jobs. And I was unable to apprehend the perpetrator."

Joanna straightened her posture. "That's it," she said. She put her hand on John's shoulder and said,
"Everyone calm down and sit." After everyone had taken their seats, Joanna locked her gaze on Jaime.
"I'm not sure how I'm going to say goodbye to you."

Jaime squinted his eyes. “What?”

"I assume you'll be collecting your belongings and leaving here to live your great life in, in New York
now," she shrugged. "I'm not sure how I'm going to let you go."
Jaime licked her lower lip. "I'm – I'm – I'm – I'm – I'm – I'm – Is that why you've been consuming more
alcohol recently?”

Joanna dried her eyes and added, "Kinda." "Change terrifies me, especially this one."

Jamie's arms were crossed, and a grin was forming on her lips. "It's not good for you, Mom." You should
do something like bungee jumping."

"I know," Joanna replied, then came to a halt. "As for you, John Jr., I should be more present in your life
than I am." She grinned broadly. "I'm very proud of you. I always knew you took wonderful images, but I
guess I didn't realize how much you liked photography."

With a shrug, he remarked, "I'm not going to be a photographer or anything." "But, it's satisfying to win
at anything."

"Is it possible to obtain an autographed photograph?"

John inquired, reaching for John Jr's hand once again. He was not turned down this time.

A humming began to sound, and the lights flickered back to life a few moments later. Joanna dashed up
to Jaime and embraced her, cradling the back of her daughter's head in her arms. She grabbed for John
Jr. when she let go of Jaime.

"I'm sorry," she said, but her mouth was buried in her son's shoulder, so only jumbled syllables came
out.

Jaime smirked as she stood off to the side of the table, watching her family. The glitter in her eyes was
highlighted by the light from above the table. "Can we do it again next week?"

Joanna raised her eyes to her son. "Can you tell me about your favorite meal?”

He grinned broadly and said, "Boeuf Bourguignon."

With a fork, John tapped his glass. “Guys. There's plenty of food left on the table."

John Jr returned to his seat, saying, "I'm still hungry." "Are you going to get your phone, Jaime?"

She exhaled a mouthful of cheese and murmured, "Nahhh." "What is it for?" I don't have any pals,
according to you."

John Jr. flushed the toilet. He said, "About that."

"Don't worry about it. "I'm well aware that I'm a bitch."

A clamor of clinking forks and boisterous laughter descended upon the kitchen, as Joanna sat there
smiling at her family.