Guess Whose Not Coming to Dinner

Things are looking better. There is no risk of a showdown in front of the kids - at least not my two. J.'s kids will likely get a hall pass from their mother to join in the fun for a while, whenever it is.

Maybe this is better than we'd expected. A opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with how to peaceably coexist. No weapons drawn, but no overly optimistic expectations for olive branches to be extended either. Guarded. Pleasant. Prepared for battle but hoping to avoid one. Not exactly peace talks. Not exactly a Mexican stand off. (Whatever that is. Another thing Estelle used to say)

I can do this. A journey of 1,000 miles begins with one small step. Bring on the first step!

And then out of nowhere, the most bizarre thing. J. called to tell me that he'd gotten a message from his sister. Dinner was going to be on Friday.

At 4 o'clock.

An idiot says what?

He called her back. She answers with the voice as flat as her affect.

"Sheila, did I hear that right? Four o'clock? On a workday?"

"Yeah." (There's the croaky voice again. Please adjust your dose of mood stabilizers)"That's the best the restaurant could do."

"So, let's go somewhere else! It's not like it is some coveted 5-star-month-long-wait-list kind of place. It's a chain."

Heavy sigh.

"Sheila, I am sure 4 pm is just fine for you and Mom and everyone else without meaningful employment, but we have responsibilities - careers and obligations - and the kids have a slew of activities. We can't just drop everything on short notice."

His argument went on - I am in another state until at least 5. He has an appointment an hour away that will end at 4. Most of the gainfully employed of the planet would have a tough time getting there. There are games and dances and an orthodontist appointment. All of this falling on deaf ears, evidently.

"Well," she whined in frustration. "Em has something to do on Saturday."

Princess is evidently still on stage. "So the world has to continue to be dictated by Em's whims? She has something to do, so we will sacrifice 6 other people so she can be there? In favor of what? Her nail appointment? We all have to race around at the last minute to accommodate her?"

"Well Friday is Mom's actual birthday."

Really. This is a 75 year old woman. Not a 9 year old. I am sure she will not go to pieces if we do not celebrate on the exact date and precise moment of birth. Better make sure there are 75 candles plus one for good luck or there will be pandemonium!

J. continued. "Sheila, this is a perfectly idiotic plan. I will see if anyone in my family can make it but I am not making any promises." He hung up.

While he was relating the hare-brained scheme du jour to me on the phone, Sheila called him back. He let it go to voicemail. Enough of her simpering already.

Her message was simple. And she'd clearly missed the point. She offered to pick up J.s girls so they could make it.

So there it was. They'd done it again. They'd planned a celebration and conveniently scheduled it at a time and place that would nearly guarantee the exclusion of the people they knew they had to invite but preferred not to be there.

J.
The much beleaguered Tim.
Me.
My children.

They would make special arrangements to ensure that J's girls could be there though.

J. would be dipped in s*** twice over before he'd let his girls be pawns in this scheme.

He called her back.

"Sheila? It's J. Listen, the girls have school activities and sporting events and we really can't just skip all that and make arrangements at work on such short notice, so don't go nuts trying to rearrange things. (As if!) We'll do something for Mom separately. Maybe brunch. This can be just your family and Mom. Have fun."

They'd get the guest list they want and Endora gets to grouse that J. and his entire family blew off her birthday dinner, too?

Not if we can help it.