The family dinner had moved to the kitchen—two tables shoved together, extra chairs borrowed from neighbors, and one spot suspiciously wobbly. Gloria had brought a mountain of empanadas. Mitchell and Cam had carried in a three-tiered cake (Cam insisted it was "just a simple dessert"). Jay had brought… himself.
As everyone jostled for seats, Ethan watched the familiar dance of his family. Haley flirted with the idea of helping but ended up scrolling through her phone on the couch. Luke had declared himself the "Head of Chair Stability Operations" and was currently testing each seat by throwing himself into it like a stuntman. Claire was trying to keep food warm. Phil was trying to keep spirits warmer.
"Ethan!" Gloria called, spotting him. "Come here, mi amor! I haven't seen you since—what was it? Thanksgiving? Why are you so tall now? Ay, que guapo!"
"Hi, Gloria," Ethan said, slightly flushed as she kissed his cheeks with theatrical flair. Manny appeared at her side, nodding his solemn approval.
"You've taken to high school well," Manny observed. "It's a transformative time. Physically, emotionally...existentially."
"It's been interesting," Ethan said diplomatically.
Mitchell clapped him on the back. "Hey, kid. Claire says you're doing a talent show. That's great! You always were the quiet artist type. This could be your moment!"
Cam, already reaching for a tray of empanadas, beamed. "And you have the voice for it! I can tell. You've got the cheekbones of a Broadway star. That means something."
"It really doesn't," Mitchell muttered.
Ethan smiled politely, thankful when Manny led him over to help arrange napkins. They spent a quiet few minutes folding them into triangles. Ethan liked Manny's pace—slow, deliberate, purposeful.
"I heard you're doing a song called Pompeii," Manny said. "Nice metaphor. Destruction and rebirth. Art imitating life."
"Exactly," Ethan said, surprised.
"I wrote a haiku once about Atlantis that did the same thing," Manny continued. "But it lost a school contest. I blame the judges. No vision."
Before Ethan could comment, Luke ran past them with a whoop, narrowly missing the cake.
"Luke!" Claire shouted. "Slow down before you wipe out Aunt Cam's passionfruit masterpiece!"
"It's passion, not speed, that matters!" Luke called over his shoulder.
Jay arrived just in time to grimace at the chaos. "Why are we still doing these big dinners again?"
"Because family is sacred," Gloria said, sweeping into his side with a plate of food. "And because I cook too much to just feed you and Manny."
Jay grumbled but accepted the plate.
Ethan watched the room with quiet contentment. He caught Alex in a corner, her nose still buried in a textbook. She hadn't said much all evening. That wasn't unusual. But something in her posture tugged at him—shoulders tight, eyes darting over lines like she was racing the page.
He drifted over, slid into the seat beside her.
"Hey."
She didn't look up. "Hey."
"Studying at dinner?" he asked gently.
"Big science test Monday. Worth twenty percent."
"That's three-sevenths of your term," he said quickly.
She glanced at him, a small smile tugging. "I love how your brain works."
"I know the pressure," he said. "Want me to quiz you after dessert?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Thanks."
Ethan didn't press further. That's what Alex needed. Not a rescue. Just someone to sit beside her without demanding anything. Someone to notice.
"Ethan!" Cam called. "Come tell us—what are you wearing for your big debut? Because I have some ideas!"
Phil jumped in. "Oh! Should we all coordinate? Dunphy colors? Dunphy merch?"
"No merch," Claire said firmly. "We are not printing shirts."
Jay muttered, "Why not? He could use a fan club."
Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "Just...something black. Simple."
"Classic," Cam approved. "Mysterious. Elegant. Like Adele."
"Who?" Gloria asked.
"She's not famous yet, Mom," Haley explained, rolling her eyes. "But she will be."
"You heard it here first!" Phil announced, raising a fork.
Dinner was a swirl of overlapping conversations, passing platters, and chaotic laughter. At one point, Luke tried to juggle bread rolls and succeeded in launching one into Mitchell's water glass. Manny recited a short poem about familial togetherness that no one quite understood but everyone politely clapped for. Gloria threatened to cut off dessert until someone complimented her empanadas properly (Cam did, with flair).
Ethan found himself seated between Claire and Alex by dessert. He didn't mind. He liked being in the middle of people who didn't mind his quiet.
"So," Claire said softly. "You really okay with this performance thing?"
He nodded. "I am. Nervous, but...I want to do it."
She smiled. "Good. I'm proud of you. Really."
Next to him, Alex tapped his elbow. "If you crash and burn, I'll still clap. But I'll laugh later. Just so we're clear."
"Understood," Ethan said.
Across the table, Jay met his eyes. There was a moment—brief, quiet—where Jay gave the smallest nod.
Ethan nodded back.
It was enough.