Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Joey was mid-napkin-fold when Bea slid into the seat across from him, wearing sunglasses like she’d survived something terrible.
Stella trailed behind her with two pastries and the expression of someone who had witnessed a disaster.
“Morning,” Joey said carefully. “Why do you both look dead?”
“Because we got traumatized,” Bea said, unwrapping a muffin like it had personally offended her.
“Family dinner,” Stella said, dropping into the seat next to her cousin. “At Meg’s.”
Joey froze mid-fold, eyes wide. “Wait, the actual family dinner? The one Margo hinted about like it was a season finale?”
Joey stopped folding. “Oh no. Was there yelling?”
“Worse,” Bea said. “There was... talking.”
“Talking,” Joey repeated.
Stella took a slow sip of her smoothie. “You know how Meg gets when she’s stressed? She made compound butter rosettes.”
“She what now?”
“Butter. Sculpted. Into flowers.” Stella held up her hands to demonstrate the absurdity. “For a family dinner where everyone was already mad at each other.”
Joey blinked. “That’s... intense.”
“They were lavender-infused,” Bea said flatly. “Like the situation wasn’t already fragile.”
“It was like watching someone throw a fancy party for people who hate each other,” Stella said.
“So what happened?” Joey asked.
“Well,” Bea said, “it started okay. Meg wanted everyone to ‘discuss where we are as a family.’”
“She had notes,” Stella added. “Actual printed notes. Like a business meeting.”
“I think there was a spreadsheet at one point,” Bea said. “Or at least the threat of one.”
“And then?” Joey prompted.
“Then Meg called Mom a diva,” Bea said.
Joey gasped. “She actually said that?”
“Which was true,” Stella added. “But probably not smart to say out loud.”
“And Mom said Meg was a control freak,” Bea continued.
“Which was also true,” Stella said. “And also not smart.”
Joey sat back, whistling low. “Honestly? I’m impressed. Most families just passive-aggressively avoid each other until the holidays.”
Joey whistled. “Did anyone throw food?”
“No, but Margo stood up and walked out,” Bea said.
“She just... left?” Joey asked.
“Put her napkin down really slow and said something about them being better artists than adults,” Stella said. “It was brutal.”
Joey winced. “Ouch.”
“Then Tyler tried to fix it by saying they were all just ‘passionate people’ and Mom started crying and Meg started opening wine bottles like she was putting out fires.”
“Luke looked like he wanted to disappear,” Stella added.
Joey slowly folded another napkin. “So... did anyone actually figure anything out?”
“If by ‘figure out’ you mean ‘everyone left still pissed off,’ then yeah,” Bea said.
“They didn’t even fake hug goodbye,” Stella confirmed. “Just grabbed their stuff and bounced.”
Joey blinked slowly. “Wow. So, we’re fully in the ‘cold war’ phase of family conflict. Neat.”
Bea reached over and stole one of his napkins, crumpling it just to have something to do. “It was like dinner theater, but no one remembered the script.”
At that moment, Bernie walked in with his coffee mug and tablet, looked at their faces, and said, “Family dinner aftermath table?”
“Obviously,” Joey said, pulling out a chair.
Bernie sat down and opened his tablet. “Scale of one to ten, how bad?”
“Like, eight,” Stella said.
“Meg hosted,” Bea added.
Bernie nodded knowingly. “Ah. So, there was fancy food and hidden anger?”
“She made butter flowers,” Stella said.
“And yes, Meg called Mom a diva,” Bea said again. Bernie needed to know. “In case that wasn’t obvious from the energy.”
Bernie’s jaw dropped for a moment. “To her face?”
“To her face,” Stella confirmed.
“Bold move,” Bernie said, typing notes. “Probably overdue, but bold.”
“Any chance they’ll actually work things out?” Joey asked.
Bernie paused, like he was thinking really hard about it.
“Probably not anytime soon,” he said cheerfully. “But they might eventually get tired of being mad. Like when you’re in a fight with your friend but then you both want to watch the same movie.”
“You’re saying reconciliation via Netflix?” Joey asked.
“Stranger things have happened,” Bernie replied.
Bea sighed. “That’s not super encouraging.”
“Look,” Stella said, standing to grab more napkins, “the only thing that changed is now we know for sure that trying to force a family meeting is like shaking a soda bottle.”
“But at least you got to see someone call Meg a control freak to her face,” Joey said.
“And Mom tried to explain why she reorganized the spice rack by color energy,” Bea said. “To Margo. Who was not having it.”
Bernie chuckled and closed his tablet. “Well, this sounds like it’s going to get interesting around here. I should probably get going before the fallout starts.”
He stood up, grabbing his coffee. “Good luck, you three. Try not to let their drama burn the place down.”
After he left, they sat with their coffee and pastries, trying to wake up.
“The weirdest part,” Stella said, “was Margo just walking out like she was done with all of us.”
“She looked so tired,” Bea added quietly. “Like, actually tired. Not just annoyed.”
Joey paused mid-napkin fold. “That’s... kind of scary, actually. Margo doesn’t get tired. She just gets more efficient.”
“Yeah,” Stella said. “It felt different. Like she wasn’t walking out because she was mad. More like she was just... finished.”
They sat with that for a moment. “Why are we the ones who have to be normal?”
Stella asked. Bea shrugged. “We’re teenagers. We haven’t had time to get this messed up yet.”
“Give it a few years,” Joey said. “I’m sure we’ll figure out how to be just as dramatic.”
“Cool,” Stella said. “Something to look forward to.”
Joey leaned back in his chair, balancing a spoon on his finger. “Do you think we’ll be like them?”
“Define ‘like them,’” Bea said.
“High-functioning, emotionally constipated, and aesthetically excellent.”
Stella laughed. “We’re already halfway there.”
Stella thought about her conversation with Margo but decided to keep those insights to herself. Some things the adults needed to figure out on their own.