Date: 15 August 1999 | Evening Characters: Stephen Cornfoot, Joan Cornfoot (NPC), Richard Cornfoot (NPC) Location: London Summary: Stephen has dinner with his parents. Completion: Complete
"Hello, Son," Richard said as he carried plates to the table. "Just in time. Your mother has talked of nothing else since you finally replied to her." He shot a glance at his son. Had he not had a single minute to reply days ago? Richard held his tongue. Stephen was an adult; he made his own decisions now--whether Richard approved or not.
"Help your mother pour the wine, Son," he said. He patted Stephen's back. "Good to see you."
Stephen could hear the disapproving edge to his father's voice. He clenched his jaw and grabbed the open wine bottle from the counter. He walked into the dining area and poured wine into the glasses while his mum brought in the pasta and sauce.
"Sit, sit," she said, pulling a chair out for Stephen. Shite she was trying hard to be nice to him. It wasn't working. Not really.
He sat and waited for his father to raise his glass in a toast. "To having a new place and having our son finally over for dinner."
Stephen inwardly cringed. His mother served him pasta and sauce, and he remembered to thank her though it took effort. He spun pasta on his fork, and scraped the tines across the bottom of his plate when his father reached over and squeezed his mum's hand. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, and Stephen wanted to get up and walk out.
He frowned. How could his father have forgiven her after what she'd done? She had torn their family apart. How had they moved on together so quickly? She had an affair with an evil manHe watched
( ... )
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"Help your mother pour the wine, Son," he said. He patted Stephen's back. "Good to see you."
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"Sit, sit," she said, pulling a chair out for Stephen. Shite she was trying hard to be nice to him. It wasn't working. Not really.
He sat and waited for his father to raise his glass in a toast. "To having a new place and having our son finally over for dinner."
Stephen inwardly cringed. His mother served him pasta and sauce, and he remembered to thank her though it took effort. He spun pasta on his fork, and scraped the tines across the bottom of his plate when his father reached over and squeezed his mum's hand. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, and Stephen wanted to get up and walk out.
He frowned. How could his father have forgiven her after what she'd done? She had torn their family apart. How had they moved on together so quickly? She had an affair with an evil manHe watched ( ... )
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