Chapter 2: The Last Dish
Chapter 2: The Last Dish
Daniel stood motionless for a few seconds.
His wife, Hannah, quickly wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
"It's okay," she whispered. "I'm almost done."
He looked at the sink.
Pots.
Pans.
Serving trays.
Enough dishes to feed twenty people.
Then he looked at Hannah's swollen ankles.
She winced every time she shifted her weight.
"You cooked?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head.
"No."
"Who did?"
She hesitated.
"Your family."
Daniel slowly turned toward the living room.
His mother laughed at something on television.
His sister, Melissa, looked up briefly before returning to her phone.
No one noticed him.
He walked over to the television.
Without saying a word...
He pressed the power button.
The room fell silent.
His mother frowned.
"Daniel, what are you doing?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he picked up every remote control on the coffee table.
Then every phone charger.
Then he unplugged the Wi-Fi router.
"What is wrong with you?" Melissa snapped.
Finally, Daniel spoke.
"Everyone."
"Kitchen."
Nobody moved.
His mother's voice became sharp.
"We're watching something."
Daniel met her eyes.
"I wasn't asking."
Something in his tone made the room go still.
One by one, the relatives reluctantly followed him into the kitchen.
He stepped aside.
"This," he said, pointing to the overflowing sink, "belongs to all of you."
His mother scoffed.
"She's the lady of the house."
Daniel looked at Hannah.
"Who's eight months pregnant."
Then back at his mother.
May you like
"And carrying my child."
Silence.
