Claw Foot Dining Table Novels & Stories

"Dinner is ready," Clayton announced with a smile as he tipped the pasta out of the pot and into a serving dish. "Do you want to go call Matt?" he asked Camden as she sat at the dining table, still lost in thought after Clayton had brought up the topic of marriage. "Sure," she answered, snapping back to reality. "Are we eating here at the dining table or by the TV?" she asked with uncertainty. "I'm easy. You and Matt can decide," Clayton said as he drained the last sip of whiskey from his glass before taking three plates out of the cupboard and setting them down on the dining table.

Mera looks at me before she walks towards the food and opens it to reveal Clide and Zyrem holding two trays of food. “Good morning Milady. It is time for breakfast.” Clide said as Mera sign them to enter after they bow. Clide laid the tray he is holding on the dresser of Mera that is still clean and he walks back to the door and gets out. He returns holding a foldable table. He fixes it into the empty space by the center as Zyrem places the tray on it and laid each food on the table. Clide follows after taking the tray again on the dresser on Mera’s side.

Clara leaned over the dining table nearby, jotting down notes with the precision of someone who wanted everything to be perfect. “I didn’t realize there were so many decisions for a ceremony,” Nicola said, holding up two fabric swatches. “Cream or ivory for the table runners?” Clara looked up, her eyes scanning the options. “Ivory. Cream is too yellow under the evening lights.” Nicola chuckled. “Noted. Anything else? Matching napkins, perhaps?” Clara threw her a playful glare. “Keep that up, and you’re in charge of napkin folding.” Nicola grinned, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Ivory it is.”

A few medals and awards were displayed just outside of the dinning too but I paid no attention to that. My sharp claws were out and I inscribed “ivy” in bold letters on the wooden dining table. The entire dining room is a square table with just four seats, one on each side which is understandable for a family as small as theirs, they don’t even seem to take visitors much.

The scene changed to the dining room. A glass dining table, large enough to seat twelve people, was scattered with fine china and sparkling crystal, with exquisitely crafted silver service glinting in the candles’ light. Women dressed in maid’s uniforms hurried around the room to serve the first course, which was a shrimp cocktail and salmon in aspic.

Eloise POV: "Sir, may I come in?" Claire’s voice came from just outside the door. "Yes, you can," Dante replied, his tone casual and unreadable. Claire entered, pushing a food trolley stacked with a variety of healthy dishes. She wheeled it silently to the side of the bed and began arranging the plates on the master-table with care, something she was used to doing after serving the Romano's household for many years. "You can leave it. I’ll handle the rest," Dante said flatly, arms folded over his toned chest as he leaned against the wall.

This whole day was always going to suck, but seeing my parents like this was almost too much. A curtain has been dropped to cover the platform to make the dinner more intimate, even with a large number of people in here. Each table seated 12 and each family had used every seat. There were 54 round tables covered in dark blue cloth with white roses in the center. We were eating off of gray China with glass drink cups. The flatware is black plated, and I went with a darker gray napkin. I admired what I had pulled off in such a short time. “Can I get a minute?” I ask Finch, who nods quickly.

Clara is taking notes. And the table, which was a kitchen island and a conference room and a hospital room and a dining table set for occasions, is just a table. With everyone at it. Making noise about joy. As a family should.

"Twenty-eight then." The evening gathered everyone onto the main terrace for dinner, which required three tables arranged together and the particular logistics of feeding a multigenerational group with different dietary requirements and different capacities for sitting still. Clara sat between Leo and Daniel and ate with the focused seriousness of a child who took food seriously. Matteo sat in a high chair beside them and ate whatever Matteo decided was acceptable, which varied by the minute. Marcus, now fully awake and restored to himself, was at the far end of the table and had already made everyone within conversation range laugh twice. Chloe sat at the centre of the arrangement and watch

"It is a milestone." "It's a party. We should celebrate." "I have scheduled a celebration," Cale said. "Dinner. 7:00 PM. Reservations at The Cliffside." "You made a reservation?" Elion teased. "I thought you hated restaurants. Too many variables." "I requested Table 4," Cale said seriously. "It is in the corner. Back to the wall. Clear line of sight to the exit. And the chef... I vetted him." "You vetted the chef?"