Dinner with the Davisons, Naomi M-B [librera reader .txt] 📗

For Antonio Davison the house was a battle ground. A very tense and very polite battle ground. It held only two combatants who fought with poisoned smiles and sharpened words all prettied up with layer upon nuanced layer of passive aggression.

Dinner was probably when it was at its worst. It was the only time of the day the family was usually guaranteed to be together in the same place. Exceptional circumstances were the only cause for it to be missed. That and business. Sadly the ‘Business’ excuse didn’t cover being allowed to eat in his study.

Why they were so insistent on enduring this torture every single day, he didn’t know. Maybe they were masochists. He wouldn’t be surprised.

“Father!” Terone rapped on the door. “Did you turn the intercom off again?”

“Something like that,” Antonio called, glancing guiltily at the smashed remains of the device on his wall. “I’ll be right down. Oh, is our guest here yet?”

Leaning around the door, Terone frowned. “Guest?” The word was said an octave lower than a normal interrogative statement with rising pitch. Having lived with them this long, Antonio accurately translated the statement to mean: ‘Is this a work colleague or an aspect of some scheme that I’m unaware of?’

“Just an old friend,” Antonio assured him. “I’ve already told the cook. I had intended to tell you and your mother however it… slipped my mind.”

“I’m sure,” Terone replied, suspicion still dancing about his eyes. It was expertly banished with a brilliant smile. “Anyway, the cook says it’s almost time to dish up so we’d best get going.”

“Yes, yes.” Straightening his shirt, Antonio bustled over to the door. “Best not keep her waiting.”

“Definitely not,” Terone said. An amused flicker to his lips indicated he’d caught sight of the smashed intercom. “What are we having by the way? It’s Sunday so I’m presuming a roast.”

“Pork, I believe.” The light conversation continued all the way to the dining room. Antonio kept his eyes fixed ahead of him the entire way, fully aware of Terone’s intent gaze as the boy attempted to figure out what was happening. ‘Geniuses’ someone had called their family, Marie and Terone’s side anyway. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Some people are too smart for their own good.

Marie was waiting for them just outside the dining room. “It seems we have a guest,” she announced. “Dr Fulatera. I was not aware the pair of you were still I contact.” While her words were light and pleasant, the eyes drilling into Antonio’s head were screaming ‘What the hell are you doing? I demand to know the meaning of this right now.’ Her eyes flicked to Terone, a silent question of his part in this.

Amused, Terone raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Antonio,” Marie sighed, “Why is there a family Councillor at our dinner table? You know I abhor those placid… bigots.”

“To Council us,” Antonio admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I think it may help. Please, will you both just try?”

Exchanging a glance, both mother and son rolled their eyes. “Fine,” both sighed.

“You never know,” Terone murmured. “This might even be fun.”

Text: Naomi M-B
Publication Date: 10-28-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Megan, for her wonderful words