Aunt Carol looked around the table and said, “Actually, I agree completely. Splitting evenly is the fairest thing.”
My father-in-law smiled immediately like the trap had worked again.
Then Aunt Carol pulled the check closer, took out a pen from her purse, and started writing numbers on the back of the receipt.
Nobody spoke for a second.
She pointed calmly around the table. “Two bourbons here. Three cocktails here. Extra entrée here. Bottle of wine here. Dessert tray here.”
My brother-in-law laughed nervously. “Carol, come on, we don’t need to do math at dinner.”
She kept writing anyway.
What made it awkward was how fast the totals stacked up once everybody actually got assigned what they ordered.
Meanwhile Aunt Carol had a side salad, chicken parmesan, and two waters.
That was it.
My mother-in-law’s smile started slipping a little. “It’s really not that serious.”
Aunt Carol finally looked up and said, “It wasn’t serious when I thought everybody here was behaving normally.”
Dead silence.
Then she tore the receipt into little sections and slid them around the table like place cards.
I still remember my brother-in-law staring at his amount for a full five seconds before quietly saying, “That can’t be right.”
“It is if you pay for your own bourbon,” Aunt Carol said.
Nobody touched the slips.
Not at first.
The waiter actually came back over looking uncomfortable because the table had gone completely quiet.
In the end everybody paid their own portion.
Amazing how fast the speeches about “family generosity” disappeared once the expensive drinks landed back in front of the people who ordered them.
My in-laws never suggested splitting evenly again after that.
At least not when Aunt Carol was invited.