Friday Dinner Novels & Stories

He said, making my brows crease in confusion. “Dinner?” I drawled. He nodded. “We should have dinner at my place later this week. I know we are not married but we should build this too. It is just for a year. We should not be strangers even if we were.” He said. My eyes narrowed. Freddy wanted to come for dinner at his place. Thinking about it, I should probably not miss out on the chance. I nodded. “Okay. Just send the address of your place to me. I will find my way.” I agreed.

Cade narrowed his eyes at me and reached for my arm. “FINE!” I yelled out loud and got up. Maddox just shook his head at us as Spencer and Steele looked at us like we were crazy. Hayden and Beau were used to our banter and were chuckling at us. “I need a drink.” Cade sighed and looked at me as I sat down. “Yes, please.” Linking my arm through Maddox, he just let me hang on. Something he’s been doing lately, I noticed. “What is for dinner?” “Meatloaf, I believe.”

The drive from Mom's place started normal. "Your Mom," Adrian said, his eyes fixed on the road "She’s nice and really accommodating." I leaned back against the headrest, as I gave a small smile. "She really is. She’s always been the heart of the house. She always find a way to make people feel welcome." Adrian let out a short, thoughtful hum. "Speaking of..." he transitioned, "you should get ready. Next Friday night, we’re having dinner with the Harringtons. The one that could make all the difference."

~ Lena POV ~ The dinner with Adrian’s parents was on a Saturday. Clara had arranged it, a quieter version than the previous ones, just the four of us at the townhouse, the kind of evening that signalled something more personal than a family showcase. I’d dressed carefully and prepared less than usual because the preparation felt dishonest at this point, like bringing notes to a conversation that had moved past needing them.

The dinner table was set for a massacre. Greg had gone all out—crystal glasses, heavy silver, and enough wine to drown the tension that usually hung over the family like a smog. He’d sent the message to the family group chat days ago: Family dinner. Sunday. Bring your partners. No excuses. Usually, these dinners were a chore, but this time, the "black sheep" of the family, James, had actually replied. “Okay Pops, that’s a great idea. I have a huge announcement to make anyway,” he’d texted back.

Say yes to whatever he asks next. Her response, instant: He asked if I want to get dinner Friday. SEPARATE from studying. He used the word "date." I need to go lie down. I locked my phone. Tucked the warmth of it away – a small, bright thing to hold onto while the dinner continued its careful choreography of avoidance and pretense. Dessert came. Richard ordered for the table without asking – tiramisu, because Richard always decided what everyone was having. My mom smiled and said it was her favourite even though I knew she preferred chocolate. Miles ate his in four bites. Rhys didn't touch his.

Val assures her as we stand up and walk into the kitchen. “Can we go visit Astrid’s mommy when we come back?” “Of course,” Val answers. “Mommy has Mr. Carter called to pick a day?” she asks. “Not yet baby,” Valerie replies. “Maybe he forgot again. That’s okay, I know he doesn’t love me like he loves Aurelia,” Freya says as she looks at her plate of food. “Daddy, the chef made your favorite meal this week!” She looks up at me with a smile. I know the weekly menu and require that one day a week has to feature one of our favorite meals, as it seems to truly please Freya to see this, and the chef happily accommodates my menu request.

Besides… One reckless night with a stranger had been enough excitement to last me a lifetime. I hated Fridays now. While everyone would get excited for the weekend, the only thing I could picture was myself slouching on my couch, eating popcorn like my life depended on it. That's not something to get excited about. Today was another Friday and for some reason, I was driving home to my parents' house. Chloe was already there. She had been beeping my phone all day to make sure I would not bail on her. I would have but well… what's the worst that could happen in a family dinner?

Not a name on something that belonged to me. “Yes,” I said. My voice came out steady. I was grateful for that. He nodded once. Rinsed his cup. Set it on the left. Picked up his briefcase. At the kitchen doorway he stopped. “The Aldermans are having people for dinner next Friday,” he said. “I confirmed for us both.” “Fine,” I said. He left.

Somewhere in his pocket, his phone buzzed with a text he didn’t acknowledge. “Have dinner with me,” he said finally. “Not a date, just dinner. Two people talking.” Sympathy considered him for a long moment, calculating the possible outcomes. “Standard English or Pidgin?” “Whatever gets you to say yes faster.” She almost smiled at that, released his wrist, helped her books again with both arms, and started walking. “Friday. Don’t be late to this one, Dane Hamilton. Or don’t “stand me up” as you all say it here.”