Chapter 6

Ariella

My mom started serving dinner, her hands moving with practiced ease as she set the dishes down on the table. The delicious aroma of freshly baked bread and creamy pasta filled the air, making my stomach rumble.

Meanwhile, Dad was hovering around her like a restless child who couldn’t keep still. He opened random cabinets, rearranged the salt and pepper shakers like they were puzzle pieces, and even tried sneaking a piece of bread off the tray when he thought no one was looking.

“Maxwell, if you don’t sit down, I’m going to throw you out of the kitchen,” Mom said, her voice carrying a mix of exasperation and affection.

“I’m helping!” Dad insisted, dramatically picking up a napkin and wiping an already spotless counter. “See? Essential support services.”

“You’re essentially driving me crazy,” she shot back, swatting his hand when he reached for another piece of bread.

“Just quality control,” Dad replied with a grin, popping the stolen bread into his mouth. “You wouldn’t want to serve anything subpar, would you?”

“Maxwell Carter, you’re impossible,” Mom said, shaking her head. But despite her words, the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

At the table, Alex was slouched in his chair, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other drummed idly against the table. To the untrained eye, he looked completely absorbed in his screen, but I knew better. Every now and then, his eyes flicked up, casually scanning the room, like he was keeping track of everything without trying too hard.

“Hey, Alex,” I teased, leaning over to nudge him, “you planning to actually eat, or are you just here for the Wi-Fi?”

He glanced up at me, smirking. “I’m multitasking,” he replied. “Unlike Dad over there, who’s doing everything but helping.”

“I’m moral support!” Dad chimed in, pretending to be offended. “You could learn a thing or two from me, kid.”

Alex snorted, setting his phone down. “Yeah, sure. I’ll start by stealing bread and wiping imaginary crumbs off the counter. That’ll get me far in life.”

“You do that, and I’ll swat your hand too,” Mom added as she placed a bowl of pasta on the table. She turned to Alex with a playful shake of her head. “You’re lucky you’re my son, or I’d have kicked you out for being so useless.”

“Hey, I’m the best taste-tester in the house,” Alex said, flashing a grin. “Quality control is a full-time job.”

“Then you can control the quality of the dishes,” Mom shot back, gesturing toward the sink.

Alex raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, alright, I’ll stay in my lane.”

Then, Dad turned to Alex with a faux-serious expression. “Speaking of staying in your lane—shouldn’t you be worrying about something important, like college?”

Alex narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Nice try, old man. I’m still here, remember?”

“Oh, good,” Dad said, pretending to be relieved. “For a second there, I thought you graduated years ago and forgot to tell us.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Alex replied, shaking his head. “I’m still here to ruin your peaceful retirement plans.”

“Well, in that case,” Dad said, leaning back with a dramatic sigh, “I should start charging you rent.”

“Good luck with that,” Alex muttered, picking up his phone again. “I’m already broke from all your ‘quality bonding’ vacations.”

“Those were life lessons,” Dad countered, grinning. “And expensive ones too, so you should be grateful.”

“And don’t forget,” Mom chimed in, placing the last dish on the table, “he also taught you how to be an expert at doing nothing.”

I laughed as Alex shook his head in mock defeat, the banter filling the room with a kind of warmth that made everything feel lighter. As I watched them, I realized how much I loved these moments—the teasing, the laughter, the way we all fit together like puzzle pieces.

For a moment, everything felt right: family, food, and the little joys that made life full.

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