A Dinner Affair

My brain immediately went into overdrive. Thinking back, I now noticed that there were a lot of instances that weren’t exactly normal. His mother helping him to find his cup the very first time I saw the family, his hand near constantly on one of his siblings' shoulders, or even just now his hesitant steps on the stairs. Or maybe the fact that he didn’t really participate in any of our writing or reading activities at school without help.

His siblings were also constantly helping him with notes, between classes, in the classes themselves. And a lot of the teachers basically expressly ignored his existence.

I can’t believe that I had never noticed or thought something of it before. If I had, it had been such a fleeting thought that it never really crossed my mind after the fact. At least, not until now.

“Hold on,” I put my hand up toward him, placing the other across my eyes. I didn’t want to look at him, I was too embarrassed by my extreme inattention to the things around me. “Hold on and let my brain catch up.” I heard him chuckling from beside me.

“You know,” He starts, his tone teasing and amused, “I thought you might have been clueless about it, but I figured that was just me underestimating you.”

“Oh hush, take it as a compliment.”

“Oh?” He seems even more amused.

“You fooled me well enough.” I sigh, finally lowering my hand from my eyes. I can feel the heat on my face, more than likely indicating my violent red blush.

“More like you are immensely unobservant,” He continued to tease.

I see Xander’s face, holding more mirth than I have ever seen him have ever since we met. I smile sheepishly at him.

“Sorry…”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” He interrupts me, patting me on the head a few times like someone would do when comforting a child. “You made me feel a little better about myself at least. Besides it’s not like I’m a complete invalid, Just have to adapt a little more than the rest of you.”

I sigh and swat at his hand, frowning at him. “I’m not a child.” My tone comes out more like a petulant child than intended and I can’t help but groan as he cackles.

“Alright, alright. Enough about that.” He grabs my arm and pulls me toward the computers again. I’m vaguely glad for the distraction from the near torment he was putting me through just now.

He flips the computer on and makes sure that the three monitors attached to this specific one are all working before he slides the chair to the side and motions for me to sit in the other rolling desk chair.

“I can’t see screens very well, or stare at them for too long. I can help get you set up with the files and the editing software, but that’s about the extent I can help you with if we want to do this with any modicum of speed.” He explains a bit of a pout on his lips. He runs his hand through his hair as if he’s ashamed and I shrug.

“Don’t worry about it. Before my brother left and took his PC with him, I used it a lot to edit my pictures and things.” I stop for a moment and notice that he seems a little sadder and I want to smack myself. He probably struggles to edit his photos and here I am just reminding him of it. But I push forwards, I figure he’d rather avoid my pity at his situation. “It may not be the exact same thing, but it’s hardly going to be super difficult.”

He gives me a relieved smile and then he looks back at the screen. He makes quick work of finding the files from the video camera we had been using to film the parts and the interviews. He also pulls up the editing software that they have. It’s super fancy but seems pretty straightforward anyway. Most of them are.

I start fiddling with it, beginning to build our documentary up.

This is how Rowan and Caleb find the two of us. Xander and I talk every once in a while, discussing some of the better cuts and edits we could use, watching some of the bits, cropping a few different parts of different takes, and me putting our ideas into practice.

“Wow,” Rowan breathes out from behind us, making me jump a little.

“I know… he’s being… civil?” Caleb seems to be in as much awe as Rowan is and I can almost hear Xander roll his eyes.

“You guy’s do know that I am capable of being civil, right? It’s not like it’s some sort of witch's spell that makes me this way.”

I snort out a laugh before saving the file that I am tampering with and spinning my chair toward the two newcomers.

“I’ve actually got a lot of it done. Most of the base is actually done, and we’re almost at eighteen minutes.”

“Really? So, it’s not a pipe dream for the twenty-minute requirement. Sweet.” Rowan smiles as she saunters closer to look at mine and Xander’s work.

“I would say that it isn’t a pipe dream no. One more interview, or a ‘talk with the interviewer’ and we’ll get to the minimum time limit.” I spin around then point to a few parts.

“Some finagling with here, here, and here,” I point to the sections on the screen, “with the voice-over and documentary type dialogue and we could even hit twenty-five minutes.”

“As long as we avoid the thirty-minute maximum, I think we’re good.” Caleb smiles and then claps both me and his brother on the shoulders. “Good job you two. Make a good team and all that.” Xander laughs.

“She isn’t very hard to get along with, you know?”

“Oh, of course, we know. Hush.” Rowan slaps a hand over Xander’s mouth as if hoping to shut him up.

I look on at the sibling interaction and miss my own brother a little bit. We haven’t truly spoken for almost a year now. A few words over text here and there. And it’s been over two years since I last saw his face.

I try to shake myself out of my funk as we turn back to the documentary. I can think about the depressing shit later, for now, we work.

Several hours later we are almost completely finished with the documentary editing. The video just needs a few minor tweaks, nothing too serious. Rowan and Caleb split up the voice-over work, and it quickly came together.

“Young masters, young miss.” I hear a voice coming from behind us as we watch the documentary over again to look for any kinks.

“Hmm, yes?” Rowan spins around on her heels to face the person who spoke. She was a small and stout-looking lady, but she looked very nice, her face had laugh and smile lines visibly etched in. Grandmotherly is how I would describe her.

“Will your young friend be staying for dinner tonight?” She asks and the three of them look at each other. They don’t even glance my way once before they all simultaneously look at her and nod their heads.

“Of course.”

“Most definitely.”

Caleb and Rowan respond in sync. I want to dispute their claim, but the lady just hums her acknowledgment and disappears back upstairs.

“Um, I can go home though,” I mutter while looking at the three of them.

“Nonsense, stay for dinner. We can get our driver to take you home once we’re done.” Rowan smiles at me while she pats my shoulder.

“We’d be happy to have you. I bet our mother will be too.” Caleb adds to his sister’s explanation.

“Um, but…”

“No but’s. It’s final.” Rowan shushes me before she excitedly hops over to the TV on the other side of the room. “Wanna game?” She asks and I shake my head, turning back to the computer screen and fiddling with the last few things that need to be fixed on the documentary. Might as well get it done before I go home.

“You’re on. I’ll kick your ass.” Caleb crows as he marches over to the other side, and Xander just shakes his head at his siblings’ antics.

“Don’t go crying to mommy when I beat you.”

“I won’t be the one beaten short stuff.”

“Sorry about them.” Xander leans closer to me, apologizing in a quiet voice. I shake my head.

“It’s fine, let them have fun. They did a lot of work too.” I responded. “Besides, this will only take me a few more minutes.” I continue to work on the documentary until a voice from upstairs calls us up for dinner.

I’m briefly surprised that we could hear her over Rowan and Caleb shouting at each other because of the game. I wonder if they are this competitive with other people, or if it’s purely a sibling rivalry. But I put that thought to bed before I save the documentary and also copy it onto a USB stick.

“There, that should do it.”

I stretch as I stand up. I hear my back and sternum pop as I do this and I sigh, feeling a little better with that.

“I can always still just go home…”

“Oh, shut up Elle. Come have dinner with us.”

“Fine, fine.” I sigh, giving in once and for all. It wasn’t worth the effort to fight them. So, instead, I follow Caleb up the stairs. Rowan helps Xander get his footing and then they too also follow us up.

We are quickly ushered into a grand dining room. A giant chandelier hangs in the middle of the room, over top of a large wooden table. The chairs themselves look ornate, and the tablecloth looks like a giant blue doily.

The three of them easily make their way to their chairs, Xander and Caleb on one side of the head of the table. Rowan on the other. The head of the table is set, along with the space directly to Rowan’s right.

“Come here,” Rowan waves at me and points beside her as soon as she sits down.

I sigh in relief when I notice that there seems to be only one spoon, one knife, and one fork in front of me. I was beginning to think that they just lived and breathed luxury. I would have no idea what to do with more than one of each of the utensils.

The Butler I met earlier serves each of us water and then leaves a glass at the head of the table before stepping back.

“The Madam will be down momentarily.” He says, even though no one asked. That’s when I hear it, the footsteps. I see the beautiful blond woman from Barney’s that one time. She walks gracefully over to the table and sits down with a smile.

“Let’s say grace first,” she says, giving me a brief nod with her head before the four of them all bow their heads and clasp their hands together.

I watch in rapt fascination. My family has never been particularly religious, we barely manage to make Easter and Christmas mass most of the time. We definitely didn’t pray before we ate. But I didn’t want to interrupt them, so I sit there silently for a few moments before they all look back up and the dinner was whisked out to us by a few female workers.

“Thank you,” I mumble to them as they put a bowl of soup and a nice fish and salad platter in front of me. There is also bread on a little plate, placed to the right of my place.

I’m a little more intimidated now that the food has actually come out of the kitchen. It looks very fancy, better than anything I could ever make myself at home. I think of the two-day-old potato salad in the refrigerator back at home and have the urge to laugh.

I guess I should enjoy the indulgence, it isn’t every day that I get to enjoy dining like this.

“Welcome to our home,” Mrs. Meier tells me kindly as she looks at me.

“Um, thanks. I’m Elle, Eleanora.” I stutter over my introduction, a little intimidated by her.

“I’m Margaret, their mother.” She smiles and looks pointedly at her children, “How might you know my children?

“Oh… I’m their classmate and project partner.” I can see Rowan deflate a little to my left, but I don’t quite understand why.

“Ah, yes. The documentary. They told me about that.” Margaret smiles and starts cutting her fish. Even her movements of cutting up her meal are graceful and elegant, and I feel almost enthralled that she can have so much poise doing something so mundane.

I guess it’s the blue blood training. Rowan, Caleb, and Xander seem to have the same elegance if a little less refined than their mothers. The difference between being in your mid-forties to being seventeen, I guess.

“Where is Nicholas?” Rowan asks after she takes a giant bite of salad.

“No talking with your mouth full,” Margaret scolds her before answering her question. “He’s over at Aunt Marilyn’s place. He and Albert also have a project so they’re having a little slumber party.”

“Mom…” Caleb whines a little. “You know that Nick is fifteen, right? So is Albert?”

“Yes, and?” She asks innocently. I wonder where he’s going with this too actually. Though I don’t say that out loud.

“He, they, wouldn’t want you to be talking about their hangout as a little slumber party.”

“Oh, they’ll get over it,” She waves Caleb’s concern off. She doesn’t seem to be too bothered by this information.

I love watching the dynamic. Something that I miss from before my family fell apart. The joking. The obvious love between parents and children. It warms my heart to be here right now.

I’m glad that they insisted that I stay for dinner. I enjoy the company for once, and the dinner is fantastic.

“Thank you very much for having me,” I tell Margaret as we all finish dinner, and the plates and bowls are whisked away again, just as quickly as they had appeared at the beginning of the meal.

“The pleasure was ours, dear. You’re always welcome in our house.” She gets up from her seat. “I’m afraid that I still have some work to do, so I’ll leave you here. Enjoy dessert.” She leaves the room just as she came in, sweeping and graceful.

“Your mother seems nice,” I comment after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, she’s the best.” Rowan smiles at me, a little bit of excitement on her face. I can tell immediately that Margaret spoils Rowan. Though with the other three being boys, Rowan is their only girl. It might be different from the dynamic that my family had with only one of each.

“I should…” I’m interrupted just as I’m about to also take my leave. I don’t really want to overstay my welcome.

But my words are cut short when a scrumptious-looking cake is brought out and served to us for dessert. I wonder how these three manage to not get fat if this is how they eat for every meal. I’m stuffed by the time I finish the cake and I lean back in my chair, over-satisfied. I try my best to avoid groaning in satisfaction like an old man, but the urge is hard to swallow.

“You could stay for a little longer you know?” Rowan tells me and I shake my head.

“I really should go home.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Yeah, thanks for having me over though. And dinner was absolutely one of the best meals I’ve ever had.”

Rowan giggles at my statement.

“I’ll be sure to tell Jennet your compliment for her food.”

“Yes, many compliments to the chef.” I push myself to a standing position.

“Let me go call the driver.” Caleb offers and then disappears out of the room before I can even open my mouth to protest. I don’t need all these accommodations. They make me feel like I’m indebted to the triplets, and the last thing I want to be is indebted to someone. I don’t need to take advantage of their wealth when there are plenty of other transportation options instead of bothering their driver this late in the evening.

“It’s fine, this is his job.” Rowan seems to see my hesitation and I sigh. But she leads me to the front anyway, and when I step out the front door, I see the black car that the four of us had used a few days ago sitting in front of it. The same man, I believe his name was Zachary, standing in front of it.

“I’ll take you home, miss.” He tells me as he opens the door.

“I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow,” I tell Rowan before I turn around and quickly slide my way into the car. In mere moments, Zachary is already behind the wheel, and we are driving off toward my house.

I rattle off my address to him and then I sit back, closing my eyes a little and listening to the soft purr of the engine as we drive along the dark roads.

Only about twenty minutes later he pulls to a stop on the curb outside my house. I look out the car window at the bleak and dark house. It seems to scream loneliness. Something that mansion that I just left, no matter how large it is, didn’t exude.

“Thank you,” I tell Zachary before hopping out. Not waiting for him to get out and open the door for me. I am entirely capable of exiting a car on my own.

I close the door and walk up to my porch. Once I get to the landing in front of the door, I hear the soft hum as he leaves. I frown a little but remember that it was my choice. It’s always my choice. It’s better to accept being alone instead of feeling overwhelmed by it.

I unlock the door and step into the pitch darkness. I close and lock the door behind me and kick off my shoes before making my way in the dark to the stairs.

It isn’t until I get to my own room that I finally turn on a light. But it is only my bedside lamp. The dim light illuminates what is necessary and nothing else. But the light is calm.

I breathe a few times before taking off my jacket and putting my bag onto my desk chair. I change quickly into pajamas and then throw myself onto my plush bed.

It’s okay. I’m used to being alone.

One afternoon with company won't change that for me.

One afternoon of warmth won’t make this more difficult.

But tonight, I struggle to sleep.

The silence of the dark house is nearly deafening.