Episode 65: The “Surprise” Dinner

I do not like surprises.

I do not like obligations.

And yet, somehow, I found myself standing in the Blainefield driveway at 6:30 PM, trench coat on, mask and gloves standard, cargo pants with chains, boots spiked.

“Dad said it’s a favor,” Damien said over the phone.

“…Right,” I muttered.

Diana is beside me. Hands lightly brushing mine.
“…Are we doing this?” she asks.
“…Apparently,” I reply.

Twins, Peresphone and Hades, sit silently in the backseat, eyes already narrowed suspiciously. They know something’s off.

When we enter the house, I notice the lights are dim.

The table is set elegantly, but… strange.

Candles, check.
Red wine, check.
…A notebook labeled ‘Murder Mystery Dinner’?

I blink.

“Really?” I murmur.

Diana raises an eyebrow. “…Really.”

The twins tilt their heads. Already intrigued.

Damien emerges from the kitchen, wearing a half-apron and a grin.
“…Surprise!”

Terry is behind him, smirking. “…It’s our way of saying thanks.”

I glance at Diana. “…Thanks… for what?”

“Being a fantastic, distant, spooky brother and uncle,” she replies lightly.

I shrug. “…Accepted.”

The twins, however, are beside themselves.
“…Aunt Terry?” Peresphone asks.
“…Cousin Claire?” Hades adds.

They are about to be spoiled beyond reason.

Damien claps his hands. “…Rules are simple. Solve the murder. Enjoy the food. Chaos is optional.”

I sit in the corner, arms folded.
“…I do not solve puzzles,” I murmur.
“…You’re watching, right?” Diana asks.
“…Watching is passive,” I reply. “…Acceptable.”

The mystery unfolds: a mob-themed whodunit orchestrated by Damien.

Hints are scattered. Suspects appear. Red herrings abound.

Everyone’s laughing. Except me.

At one point, I quietly refill my plate with my favorite: dark chocolate truffles, a slice of cheesecake, and… a mountain of pasta.

The twins giggle as I somehow manage to carry multiple plates without spilling.

“…He eats like a shadow,” Hades whispers to Peresphone.

“…A delicious shadow,” Peresphone adds.

As the “case” concludes—Damien dramatically announces:
“…And the murderer is…”
“…You,” Terry says. “…Not really.”
“…It’s actually…” Damien pauses for effect, “…Beckett.”

I raise an eyebrow behind my mask.
“…I’m honored,” I mutter flatly. “…But innocent.”

The twins burst into laughter. Diana nudges me gently, hand on my shoulder. “…You’re blushing.”

“…I am not.”

The real surprise: a quiet, heartfelt toast from Damien.
“…Beckett, you always help the family, quietly, without fuss, without attention, and yet you do more than anyone knows. This is for you. Thank you.”

I blink.

Diana leans closer. “…Well?”

“…Accepted,” I reply. “…And the food is good.”

The twins, already bouncing from Aunt Terry and cousin Claire’s spoiling, lean into my side.
“…Can we get dessert now?” Peresphone asks.

“…After dinner,” I say mildly, already mentally plotting which plate to pilfer next.

Diana laughs softly, tilting my mask slightly to nudge my cheek. “…You’re impossible.”

“…Yes,” I reply. “…And thoroughly appreciated.”

The rest of the evening dissolves into chaotic laughter, spoiled children, and me quietly consuming enormous quantities of food while maintaining my ghostly, distant presence.

The twins call out my approval at every turn.
“…Best uncle ever!”
“…Best dessert thief!”

I simply shrug.

The world can be chaotic. I do not care.

Except… this is tolerable.

Because Diana is beside me.

The twins are entertained.

And somewhere in the corner, Damien’s scheme worked perfectly.

I finish my plate.
“…Good evening,” I mutter.
“…It was,” Diana replies, leaning against me. “…Even for you.”

I shrug. “…Accepted.”