At the Dinner Table

words by Megana Kumar, art by Justina Lu

It felt more like a blur than anything. Grabbing his suit from the closet, hoping that the stain on the cuff wasn’t too noticeable, waiting for his too-tight shoes to pinch around his too-big toes - it was routine. This was the third dinner in the last two weeks they’d been invited to, and Jason just hoped the appetizers were better than they were in the last one. 

It made sense. Clara was doing so well at the office, even better after that article was published. Suddenly, they were getting invited everywhere, and Jason was more than happy to do the job of looking pretty on her arm. Who was he to decline free food? She’d told him about this one yesterday, asked if he’d finished grading enough papers to be fine with going, and he’d said yes. There was nothing to think about. He’d stay by her side, offer up a few smiles, and generally bask in the glow of her success. 

He’d gotten good at it. Basking. It was easy when he’d turn and see the curve of her cheek through a grin, excited and deserving. My wife, he’d think. How lucky. She’d walk around for a bit, and they’d head into all the little circles of conversations before he’d inevitably wind around the buffet table, and she’d inevitably end her rounds and reel him towards the door

Tonight would be no different. Jason was sure of it. He’d chosen a tie that matched her dress. It was one that he wore to school on Tuesday - a blue one with little turtles all over it. There was a kid in one of the after-school clubs he sponsored some time ago who had an obsession with anything water-related, so he’d considered it a good investment. Clara had laughed when he’d held it up to her dress to check the color. They were reaching the door, and he walked up to hold it open for her. 

He couldn’t help but notice that something was off as soon as they walked in. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Clara was hanging her coat up on the stand when he heard something. “Aren’t you excited for the speech?” Speech? He didn’t remember anything about a speech. He racked his brain to see if Clara mentioned anything, but he was drawing a blank. 

They ventured into the living room, and he was thrown for even more of a loop. He’d sworn that he’d seen some of these people in the magazines in the waiting room at his long-overdue dentist appointment. Each laugh felt like it cost money to listen to - he could feel the clink of coins in the beat of their breaths. His suit clung to his back, and the stain on his cuff felt like it was bleeding through. Clara had already started her foray into one of the circles, but he felt stuck in place, his shoes pinching his feet too much to move.

He had to figure out who the speaker was. It was the only way to get a footing in a place that felt too out of his depth. He made a dive for the buffet table to grab a glass of water when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Mr. Reed?” The voice felt like a memory. He turned around, coming face-to-face with a big, dimpled smile. Danny Morales. No wonder that voice was so familiar. The kid was always talking, all the time. 

“Danny,” he said, letting himself relax. “How are you, kiddo?”

“Not too much of a kid anymore,” Jason found himself looking at the way Danny’s dimples reached deeper into his cheeks, older somehow. “is the podcast club still up and running?”

“Lola’s following very well in your footsteps. I wouldn’t be too worried.” 

“Lola! Wow! Well, I can’t take too much credit.”

Jason found himself grinning at the memory. “Yeah, I distinctly remember having to sneak back into Ms. Stava’s office to return the headphones we stole from the computer lab.”

“Hey! That was a group effort! I was distracting her with my amazing conversational wit!”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure asking her if there was a bathroom on the fourth floor of a three-story school was very distracting.” 

“Mr. Reed, it worked, okay? She was totally convinced.” 

“Sure, sure. The news anchor job is going well, I assume?” Danny was definitely a candidate for the night’s speaker. There was an easy confidence to him - he was used to talking, after all. 

Danny opened his mouth to respond when Jason heard another voice from behind him. “Quit bothering Mr. Reed, man. Let him grab some appetizers!”

“Tasha? Is that you?” Jason turned to see her behind him, plate in hand. 

“I wasn’t bothering him! I just wanted to see how things were going,” Danny protested. 

“Dude, I remember how many questions you would ask back in class. Let him relax for a little, yeah?” 

Jason watched them bicker for a little bit, fondly. “All right, all right, break it up. I see that you two haven’t gotten any better.”

“Someone has to keep his ego in check. Ever since his face has been plastered all over TV, I’ve been meaning to get a hinge installed in his mouth.” Tasha rolled her eyes.

“You weren’t complaining when I was interviewing you on the very same TV last week,” Danny countered, slinging his arm over her shoulder. He pitched his voice up high. “‘Yes, I can confidently say that our new silkworm-based bandage does improve the efficacy of wound-healing technologies.” 

She shoved him away. “Shut up. It wasn’t all that.” Maybe she was the evening’s speaker? Jason looked behind her to see the crowd of people she’d left to join them over at the table. A major medical innovation in a room full of people willing to fund it? It made total sense. He saw the pocket of her blazer out of the corner of his eye, catching three purple pens tucked neatly into her shirt pocket. He felt himself smile. “You still keep those pens?”

Tasha glanced down, broken out of her mock-annoyance. “Oh, these? Yeah, always. I was always losing mine all over the hallways, and the ones from your desk were the only ones that stuck.” He couldn’t help but remember when she was first in his class - quiet and a little sullen, with pink glasses that sat right at the edges of her face. She would organize all her supplies by color, and everyone wanted her in their groups for science projects. He felt awkward asking them if they knew who was speaking - the idea of admitting that he hadn’t taken the time to learn who was being honored made him feel disconnected, like someone who hadn’t been keeping up.

He noticed a figure by the window, eyes locked into a phone screen, muttering to themselves. I guess the speaker could be him, Jason thought. I know I’d be memorizing the notes on my phone until I dropped. The figure looked up, catching his eyes and moving out of the curtain’s shadow. 

“Marcus!” Jason exclaimed, surprised. 

“Well, well, well,” Danny huffed out a laugh. “Mr. Wang decides to grace us with his presence tonight. You know, when they told me you’d be here I almost didn’t believe them. I thought you’d be holed up in the lab.”

“You’re kidding, right? I-” He turned to Jason, agitated. “Mr. Reed, just who I need. You always have the best advice.”

Ah, Jason thought. A wave of relief washed over him. It’s Marcus. It made sense - the kid had recently been in Forbes for his work with hydroponics. “Sure, Marcus. Let me look at what you have so far.”

Marcus shoved his phone in Jason’s face, eyes wide and catatonic. “I have a trade deadline coming up, and I have no idea if I’m giving up too much for an upgrade at wide receiver. You always had the best picks, so I trust you on this one.” 

Jason stared at the screen and then back up at Marcus, the wave of relief crawling back up his ass. Fantasy football? Really, Marcus? His voice wavered when he spoke, and he had to clear his throat. “Don’t sell your depth for a minor upgrade. Consistency is key.”

Marcus nodded. “Got it. Thanks. Glad I could handle this before everything started.” He stepped back, taking a minute to look Jason in the eyes. “Honestly? We didn’t think you’d end up coming. You always fell asleep at the big assemblies in school.”

He managed a weak smile. “Well, it wasn’t as if Principal Miller was a riveting speaker,” He saw Danny’s eyes shoot a quick peek around the room. “And besides, I could trust you all not to do drugs. As for this, I only came because of Clara. I’m just happy to be her support.”

“Mrs. Reed’s awesome, but she isn’t the reason you’re here,” Tasha said, tilting her head. 

“Of course she’s the reason I’m here! She was the one who got invited,” he said, bewildered, putting his hands up. “I’m just her plus one, guys.” His eyes searched for Clara in the room, finally settling on her. She gave him a small smile, almost teasing, heading his way. 

“Sorry, everyone. I knew the only way he would show up was if I didn’t tell him what this was about,” Clara said, reaching for his hand. He clung onto it like a lifeline.  

Jason felt a surge of confusion bowl him over. “Tell me what? That one of my students is giving a speech, and I’m supposed to guess which one?” 

“We’re not the ones who are going to give a speech, Mr. Reed,” Danny said, softly. “It’s you.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, instinctively.

“Yes, you are,” Clara whispered. Jason stared at Tasha, who was fiddling with the pens in her pocket. He stared at Danny, who, for once, was completely silent. He stared at Marcus, whose phone had been tucked away dutifully into his pants. That feeling he felt at the night’s start crystallized against his spine. “They came in from all over for you.”

“But all of you-”

“You’re part of the reason we even got this far,” Tasha said, firm. “And please, don’t try to tell us any different.” 

“Besides, if you get nervous, you can always hide in the bathroom on the fourth floor,” Danny edged in. Jason let out a bark of laughter. He looked around the room. Sure enough, there were so many familiar faces - kids from his classes, old members of the PTA, Principal Miller (he sucked in a breath at that one.) He turned to look at the three in front of him. He could see the outline of braces against Danny’s teeth, the press of Tasha’s pink glasses against her face, Marcus’s frown when he told the kid to get off of his phone during class. The years seemed to melt away. Clara squeezed his hand.

“Oh, and, before you go on,” Marcus said, pointing to his chest. “I really missed that tie.”