A Surprise Supper That No One Expected
“You’re absolutely out of your mind! We can’t invite them!” Viktor nervously tapped his knuckles on the countertop.
“And why not?” Annabelle narrowed her eyes and turned to the window.
“Your brother, whom you haven’t seen in fifteen years!” Viktor rose, stepping closer. “He just appears out of nowhere, and suddenly you’re inviting him for dinner?”
“He didn’t appear from nowhere,” Annabelle tried to stay calm, but tension lingered in her tone. “William finally moved back to Manchester after his business failed in Leeds.”
“Of course!” Viktor exclaimed, arms raised. “Now he’s crashed back here to ask for money from the sister he left during her darkest hour. Do you even remember that?”
Annabelle turned back to the pristine stove, pretending to inspect it.
“I haven’t forgotten. But he’s still my brother.”
“And I’m your husband, and I don’t agree.”
Annabelle sighed, facing him.
“Listen, I already invited them. William, his wife Lisa, and their son will arrive this evening.”
Viktor closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.
“And how long were you planning to wait to tell me? Five minutes before they arrive?”
“—” Before she could answer, her phone rang. She frowned at the screen.
“It’s Emma.”
“Perfect timing for a drama,” Viktor muttered. “Has she even heard about Uncle William?”
“No. I haven’t spoken to her much since the last argument.”
Annabelle answered.
“Hello? Emma?”
A cheerful voice crackled through the speaker.
“Mum, hi! Don’t worry, Oliver and I won’t be any trouble, but we’re coming over for dinner tonight? I’ve got something important to tell you all!”
Viktor shook his head fiercely, but Annabelle smiled smugly.
“Of course, come right over!”
“Great, we’ll be there at seven. Oh, and we’re bringing someone else along.”
Before Annabelle could ask, the call cut out.
“Listen, Viktor, this is amazing! The whole family will be together!”
“I fail to see what’s so wonderful about this,” Viktor snapped, storming out of the kitchen. “We’ve got tickets to the Royal Court Theatre tonight, by the way.”
“Oh!” Annabelle slumped, pressing her palms to her cheeks. “I completely forgot!”
“And that’s exactly the point. Call everyone back and reschedule.”
“But Viktor—”
“No buts!” He disappeared into the bathroom.
Annabelle slumped onto a chair, rubbing her temples. The Beckett play tickets Viktor had booked a month ago were meant to be their anniversary treat. Instead, she was now scrambling to feed everyone. Though Viktor would rage, dragging guests outside was unthinkable, especially for William and Emma.
From the stove, she heaved out a frozen roast from the freezer, vegetables in tow. By the time Viktor emerged, the kitchen was fragrant.
“I see you’ve made all the decisions,” he said flatly.
“Viktor, come on!” Annabelle wiped her hands. “It’s perfect—family time!”
“The family?” He snorted. “A brother who vanished for fifteen years, a daughter who hasn’t called in months, and a complete stranger you’ve never met?”
“Maybe today will fix everything,” she said hopefully.
Viktor shook his head but murmured about a ruined evening and retreated.
Annabelle returned to cooking, the familiar static of their life with Viktor weighing on her. They’d both been schoolteachers, routines predictable—afternoons debating students over tea, weekend plans, rare trips to art galleries or theaters. Family ties had always been strained. William had vanished after their parents’ deaths, ashes in Leeds. Emma had defied her by dropping out of university, choosing a bar job instead of teaching.
A knock came at the door. Mrs. Thompson, their elderly neighbor, stood with a platter of pasties.
“Annabelle, darling, I made these. Take them and eat.”
“Oh, just in time! We’ve got unexpected company tonight.”
“Who?” Mrs. Thompson’s eyes gleamed.
“William with his family and Emma with her… partner?”
“Partner?” Mrs. Thompson gasped. “A proposal planned, by God?”
“I haven’t the faintest,” Annabelle shrugged. “She said she’s got news.”
“Then let me ask you—my nephew Nick is in town. Retired soldier, widower. Lives alone. How about inviting him? He needs company.”
Annabelle hesitated but nodded, accepting the chaos.
Just as she returned to the kitchen, Viktor rounded on her.
“Are you inviting the neighbor’s nephew too?”
“Look, he’s new to the city and job hunting—”
“And now we’re job agencies?”
“He’ll eat, talk, maybe find something useful,” she persisted.
Viktor waved her off, retreating. Annabelle knew that meant surrender.
At six, the roast was golden. Viktor, glancing at the table, finally smiled.
“Behind all the madness, you’re right. It’s been ages since we grouped.”
She embraced him.
“Exactly. Fate’s got her way tonight. We’ll see the theatre another evening.”
Viktor kissed her forehead.
“Alright, you’ve convinced me.”
The doorbell rang. A tall man in a military posture stood at the threshold.
“Hello, I’m Nicholas. Mrs. Thompson’s nephew.”
“You’re welcome, Nicholas. I’m Annabelle. This is Viktor.”
Handshakes were exchanged, and the tension lifted. Nicholas, a warm conversationalist, shared tales of his service in Iraq, his late wife, and his plans to rent a flat nearby.
As he spoke, the doorbell rang again. Emma stood on the doorstep, radiant in a flowery dress, flanked by a gray-haired man, a little girl hanging from his arm.
“William!” Annabelle rushed to hug him.
“Sister,” he said awkwardly. “This is Lisa and Leo.”
Viktor greeted them gruffly, ushering them in. William shifted, Lisa fumbled with her napkin, and Leo’s eyes were glued to his phone.
“How are you both?” Annabelle asked.
“The usual,” William began. “Business folded. Debts. We thought moving back here might help. I’m a warehouse worker for now at Tesco. Temporary, though.”
Lisa added quietly, “I work part-time at the chemist—enough to get by.”
Before Annabelle could reply, the doorbell rang again. Emma entered, introducing Oliver and their daughter Polly.
“Mum, this is my husband and daughter.”
“Husband?” Annabelle dropped the dish towel.
“Three months ago,” Emma smiled. “But after the last fight—”
Viktor embraced his daughter.
“Congratulations. Come in—supper’s ready.”
Emma eyed the unfamiliar guests.
“Who are these people?”
“Your uncle William and Nicholas, the neighbor’s nephew,” Annabelle introduced.
Emma frowned. “The one who skipped after Grandma and Grandpa died?”
“Emma!” Annabelle snapped.
“What? I just asked.”
The table grew tense. William lowered his gaze; Leo stared at the ceiling. Nicholas broke the silence, raising a glass.
“To unexpected reunions.”
Viktor filled the glasses, and the mood eased. Oliver shared his work as a factory engineer; Polly, a seven-year-old gymnast, had stories of her routines.
Annabelle asked how Emma and Oliver met.
“Where she worked. I came in to celebrate my divorce,” Oliver answered.
“A unique start,” Viktor noted.
“Honest,” Oliver grinned.
William, unexpectedly, added, “I’m divorced, too. Lisa’s my second wife.”
Annabelle blinked. “I didn’t know.”
“We’ve kept a lot quiet,” William said solemnly.
Emma interjected, “Funny, the one who disappeared is the first to get a second chance.”
Viktor hissed, “That’s enough, Emma.”
Polly and Leo, oblivious to the tension, exchanged glances.
Nicholas suddenly said, “I’m opening a café. William, you’re seeking work? I could use a manager.”
William was stunned. Emma, overhearing, added, “I ran a restaurant for three years. I could help.”
“Perfect! And I can manage the plumbing,” Oliver offered.
Annabelle watched, awestruck, as strangers bonded over business ideas.
Nicholas shared plans for a co-op downtown. Viktor, recalling his early days as a construction worker, volunteered to help.
“Yes, let’s call it ‘The Family Café’,” Emma suggested.
Polly cheered. “A playroom!”
Nicholas agreed. “And you, Leo, can be our teenage waiter.”
William approached Annabelle quietly.
“I’m sorry, Anni. All these years—”
“Being here is enough.” She hugged him.
Emma approached her parents.
“I know I kept the wedding secret. But Oliver’s… decent. Polly’s happy.”
“We’re proud of you,” Annabelle embraced her.
As guests departed past midnight, phone numbers were exchanged, plans set to meet the next week. Nicholas departed, grinning.
“Who knew one dinner would build a team?”
Annabelle faced Viktor.
“Still mad about the theatre?”
Viktor laughed. “What play are we watching when the café opens?”
She hugged him. “It was only a dinner—”
“No,” he said, eyes bright. “I think fate planned it all along.”
They stood in the living room, dishes piling. But for the first time in years, their family felt whole, even with new threads woven into its tapestry. And it had started with a dinner no one expected.
