"Well, that's that," Elliot said.

She sat on the couch in the office. Beck sat across from her, the coffee table between them littered with index cards. The clock was inching its way from late afternoon into evening. Beck leaned back and nodded.

"Yes, it is," he said.

"I'm surprised it took us so long to get here," Elliot said.

"Are you?" he asked.

"I mean, I knew it was coming, but still."

"Now it's here."

"Yup, the truth is clear."

"It is indeed."

"We should both quit being writers and find another careers."

"Naturally," Beck said, his expression hinting at amusement.

"You will become a psychologist. I will grow a beard, buy a monkey and play the barrel organ on the sidewalk."

"That doesn't seem plausible."

Elliot raised her eyebrows.

"Why? Because I can't play the barrel organ?"

"Because monkeys are difficult to buy."

Elliot sank back into the couch, frowning.

"True," she said. "Well, is seems like I should stick it out for a while long."

Beck stood and picked up his satchel.

"That's the spirit," he said, his voice mocking.

Elliot leaned over the table and started organizing and stacking the index cards.

"At least Weston and Tess are on friendly terms now. It's just pushing them onward that will be the difficulty."

"We can manage it," Beck said. "Or die."

Elliot looked up at him.

"I like where your head's at."

She stood, holding the cards and moved to the desk, while Beck took the cold coffee cups to the sink. She deposited the cards onto the desk and turned to Beck.

"So..."

Beck slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"This should be interesting," he said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Is anything you say not interesting?"

"I don't know. I haven't had the pleasure of hearing myself talk in my sleep." Elliot crossed her arms. "Besides what makes you think I have something to say other than toodaloo?"

Beck pointed to her face.

"Because you have one of the most readable faces I have ever seen."

Elliot let out an annoyed huff and tossed her hands up.

"I know. It's one of the reasons I didn't become a spy. That and the fact that I have an aversion to bugs, real or the electronic kind."

Beck smiled, the expression softening his usually passive features.

"Was there something you wanted to say, or as usual were you amusing yourself by talking?"

"I do not amuse myself by talking."

Beck raised a skeptical eyebrow. Elliot frowned and crossed her arms, making Beck smirk.

"My mother has invited you to dinner," Elliot said.

"Aren't we suppose to be dating for a month before that happens?"

Elliot's stance relaxed and she smiled.

"It's been over a month," she said.

"Then it looks like we are on course."

"Apparently."

Elliot grabbed her purse.

"We need to make a stop by the florist," Beck said.

"Whatever for?" she mocked.

Beck looked at her, his expression calm.

"I might not know where the beaten path is but I've read enough books to know how this works."

Elliot laughed, her head falling back.

"Oh, it's so funny that you even think books could come close to helping you understand how tonight's dinner will go."

Elliot moved to the door, Beck giving her a wary look.

"Oh, one last thing," Elliot said, as she pulled the door closed. "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Mother is dying and wants to see me with an unstable and radical man."

"I can't pull off unstable."

"Then this is never going to work!"

************

Elliot jogged up the stairs to her house, Beck behind her, holding a bouquet of flowers. She looked back at him, her hand on the door knob.

"Nervous?" she asked.

Beck gave her a cool look.

"No," he said.

Elliot smirked.

"You should be."

She opened the door, letting a cloud of savory odors escape into the neighborhood. They stepped inside and Elliot tossed her purse on the entry table.

"My presence has entered the dwelling!" she called out.

From the kitchen her mother appeared, an apron wrapped about her, covering her short pants and loose cotton top. Beck straightened and Elliot smiled. Before she could introduce Beck, her mother spoke.

"Mr. Daniels," she said, her voice holding a lofty tone, "what are your intentions with my daughter?"

Elliot glanced at Beck, one eyebrow raised.

"I intend to elope with her. Divorce her after a month, taking the money, and leaving her with the dog," Beck said.

Elliot choked out a laugh as her mother smiled.

"You're quick and have a dry sense of humor," she said. "We will get on splendidly!"

"I've worked with Elliot for over a month," Beck said. "I assumed she got it from somewhere."

"I will take credit for her wit and writing talent, but the peculiarities are all her's." Elliot's mother held out her hand. "I'm Marilyn."

Beck shook her hand.

"These are for you," he said, offering the bouquet."

Elliot's mother beamed.

"You brought dessert, how wonderful," she said, then winked at Beck. "Elliot be a love and take these. I'm going to show Beck around the place while you help Cece set the table."

"Is it safe for me to leave him with you?" Elliot asked, taking the flowers.

Her mother waved a careless hand.

"Of course, I won't bite. It's not a full moon," she said.

Beck looked at Elliot and she smirked. A smirk that said she had warned him. She watched her mother lead Beck to the far side of the house, her warm voice trailing behind them. She then moved down the hallway to the kitchen. Cece turned as Elliot entered, a stack of plates in her arms.

"Good, you can help me," Cece said. "Did Beck wet himself yet?"

"No, but they're taking the tour now so there's still a chance he will." Elliot looked back down the hall, then at Cece. "Though he might be made of strong stuff."

"Let's hope so, we still have dinner to get through and Tristan doesn't share his clothes."

Cece moved through an archway into the dining room while Elliot put the flowers in a vase. Grabbing forks and knives, she followed after Cece. They moved around the long, oak table, putting down place settings.

"Did you hear Lennon and Kade are back together?" Cece said.

Elliot paused, looking at her.

"Who?"

"Lennon Kayhill and Kade Mathews."

"Saying their names again won't get you different results.

"You know infamous playboy dates small-town Southern singer and gets a second chance."

"It sounds like a romance novel."

Cece shook her head.

"Right," she said. "I forgot you don't get on social media. I guess it's pointless to mention Sebastian Colfax and Amelia then."

Elliot gave her a ponderous face, casually pointing towards the kitchen.

"Do they live down the street from us?" she asked.

"Down the street in a different state."

Elliot nodded and continued laying out the utensils.

"Right. So you were on social media," she said.

"Yeah, it's like depression."

"A lot of people crying out for help, but pretending they're okay?"

"No, it's a dark, never ending tunnel with no light at the end."

"Got it."

Both girls turned toward the doorway as their mother and Beck appeared, talking amiably.

"Just give it back to Elliot when you are done," their mother said, to him.

Beck nodded and slid the a hard back book into his satchel.

"Thank you," he said.

"Anytime." She turned to the girls. "You managed to set the table. I'm so proud. Based on the layer of dust on the plates I was afraid you had forgotten what they were used for."

"Don't worry," Cece said, "we used them once. But unfortunately Tristan noticed them on the floor and walked around them so the trap didn't work."

"I always knew he was a smart one," their mother said. "I'm going grab the pasta and give you a chance to wipe them down."

Elliot smiled.

"No need, I already spat on them and Cece wiped them down with her shirt. We're all good."

"I'm happy to know you are all self-sufficient."

Both Cece and Elliot bowed, while Beck watched the exchange with puzzled amusement.

"Cece, will you please bring in the salad?" their mother said.

She walked to the kitchen, Cece tagging along. Elliot turned to Beck.

"You're still in one piece, so that has to be a good sign," she said.

Beck gave her a small smile.

"Or she just didn't leave any outward marks."

Elliot laughed.

"Now you're getting it."

Cece and her mother reappeared, steam billowing from the dish in her mother's hands. Cece disappeared again, returning with a pitcher of water and a basket of rolls.

"Beck, sit where ever you like," Elliot's mother said.

They all sat, Elliot beside Beck. Her mother was just starting to serve when the front door opened. A second later Tristan appeared in the doorway.

"I didn't know we owned a dinner table," he said.

"Hello darling," their mother said. "Come sit."

Tristan hesitated.

"I worry about you not getting enough social interactions, so come sit," their mother said.

"I just got back from rehearsal," Tristan said.

"Berating your dancers does not count. Sit," their mother said.

"Fine."

Tristan looked over at Beck and nodded.

"Tristan McKenzie," he said, holding out a hand.

Beck stood and accepted it.

"Beck Daniels."

Tristan looked him up and down with a scrutinizing expression.

"How long have you been here?" Tristan asked.

"Half an hour," Beck said.

Tristan turned to his mother with a look of surprise.

"He's not maimed, nor has he been crying. Mother you've been containing yourself," he said.

An amused smile peeked out from their mother's lips. Tristan turned back to Beck.

"Glad to see you're still in one piece. That's how we normally measure the success of a day," he said.

"Seems like an accurate way to judge success," Beck said.

Tristan laughed.

"You'll do fine," he said.

He then moved to the other side of the table, taking a seat beside Cece. He held out his hand and Cece grudgingly put a ten dollar bill into it.

"Mom made a werewolf joke," Elliot said.

Tristan glared at her, before passing over the bill. Their mother coughed, pointedly looking at them. Her gaze then fell to Elliot.

"I do believe that Beck is still present and it's been half an hour," their mother said.

Elliot made a face and handed over the bill. Their mother smiled and Beck looked to Elliot.

"What was the bet?"

"You wouldn't last half an hour."

"How little faith you have."

Elliot shrugged.

"You wouldn't have been the first."

Cece smiled at her mother, her arms resting on the table.

"Was it just me or did I hear Tristan make a joke about you containing yourself?" she asked.

Their mother handed her back the money, then reached for the pasta.

"Anyone hungry?" she asked.

***************

"No! You can't say that," Elliot said, leaning forward on the table, looking at Tristan.

Dishes laid dirty and pushed away from them, water glasses empty.

"I believe that I did say that," he said.

"A collection of cardinals sounds better than a congregation of cardinals," Elliot said.

Cece leaned forward, pointing her fork at Elliot.

"Okay," she said, "if Elliot wins with a collection of cardinals then I still think I would win with a squad of sparrows."

"I found a gaggle of geese to be the best so far," their mother said.

"You could do a war council of woodpeckers," Beck added.

"Remind me how we got onto that topic?" Elliot asked.

Tristan pointed to Beck.

"He was mentioning Poe, after we moved from books to poetry, and that led us to an unkindness of ravens, then to a murder of crows."

Elliot nodded.

"Right," she said.

The front door opened and the group looked over as Milo walked into the dining room.

"Marilyn!" Milo said.

Elliot's mother stood and gave him a hug.

"Milo, how has my daughter been treating you?" Elliot's mother asked.

Elliot glanced at Cece who rolled her eyes and sat back, her arms crossed.

"Same as always," Milo said.

"Verbal abuse and scathing looks?"

"Yes, but that's only because she has a thing for me."

"Well, you can't blame her. Many girls have fallen for those handsome features."

"True."

"Elliot will get over it soon," Milo said.

"So I hope."

Elliot threw a roll at Milo's head and it bounced off his ear. He looked at Elliot and winked.

"Come sit, there's some pasta that is all your's," their mother said, taking her seat.

Milo glanced around the table, his gaze landing on Beck.

"Good to see you," he said. "You survived dinner without being transformed into a gibbering idiot. Not many have."

"I see how lesser minds would succumb to such a state," Beck said.

Milo laughed and took a chair beside Elliot.

"I barely left with my head the first time," he said.

"Cece still regrets that it was left intact," Elliot said.

"Well, I've lost it over her, so that should satisfy her." Milo looked to Marilyn. "Same plans for the Fourth as usual?"

Elliot's mother nodded, then looked at Beck.

"Beck, if you are free this 4th of July I want to invite you to the Cape with us," she said. "We usually rent a house and drive down the day before. That way we have the whole day to relax and celebrate. A lot of the adopted family comes."

Beck glanced at Elliot, then back at her mother.

"Adopted family?" he asked.

"Oh sure," Cece said. "We adopt everyone. Not actually adopting them, more like they have been made part of the family. It's usually the people who have survived the dinners and returned for more."

"We would be honored if you came," Marilyn said.

"I appreciate the invitation. I'll see if that works out," Beck said.

Elliot's mother smiled and nodded.

"Dessert?" she asked.

Everyone but Beck assented

"I'm afraid I should be heading out," he said.

Everyone rose.

"It was a pleasure," Elliot's mother said, holding out a hand. "I hope you will think about the invitation."

Beck shook her hand and nodded. The rest of the group waved goodbye as Beck made his way to the front door, Elliot following him. She pulled the door open and Beck stepped out. Once on the top step, he turned back.

"Is it always like that?" he asked.

Elliot paused in closing the door and joined him.

"You mean crazy, manic, mad, chaotic, erratic, insane, unbalanced?"

Beck smiled.

"Yes, I did just buy a thesaurus," Elliot said.

"I was going to say companionable. I haven't ever met a family as close as yours."

Elliot rested against the metal railing.

"We're not really the norm. I know this. But you go through enough crap with each other and it bounds you." Elliot laughed. "But remember we're still clinically insane, so don't put on the rose-colored glasses just yet."

Beck nodded, looking back towards the house.

"You should think about coming to the Cape," Elliot said.

Beck looked at her, surprised.

"The adopted family are a bunch of interesting people," Elliot said. "You know Andrew Dallas?"

"The playwright?"

Elliot nodded.

"He's part of the group. Along with other writers, photographers and dancers. They're the people we met along the way and have stuck around."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah, once you're in, you never leave. We're like the mafia, a commune or a league of assassins. The only way out is death."

Beck smiled.

"Sounds about right," he said. "I'll think over the invite. Goodnight Elliot."

Elliot waved as he walked down the stairs.

"See you Monday," she said.

Beck turned back and gave a single nod. Elliot stepped inside and closed the door. In the dining room cartons of ice cream passed between hands. Snatching a spoon, Elliot sat down.

"Alright, who had Beck down for lasting two hours?" their mother asked.

**********************************************************************

Hello wonderful person!

Have you ever thought what it would be like to live in a different time era? I always thought it would be interesting to live in the 1900s, because the guys still wore suits places, treated girls with respect, walked them to school and held their books. I think that sounds nice. Of course they didn't have the technology we have so I don't know how well I would actually do.

Vote, comment, follow, tell me what you thought? Do you have have a favorite character?