Ava slowly wiped her hands on a towel, stepped out of the kitchen, smiled at the room, and said, “Actually, I think dessert should work a little differently tonight.”
Everybody looked confused.
Then she picked up the pie tray, carried it into the living room, and set it right down on the coffee table in front of everybody.
“No more restaurant service,” she said lightly. “Kitchen’s open. Help yourselves.”
My mother-in-law gave this awkward laugh like Ava was joking.
But Ava sat down beside my brother instead of turning back toward the kitchen.
And that’s when everybody suddenly realized nobody else had gotten up all evening either.
There was this weird little pause where Uncle Mark kept holding out his empty glass waiting for a refill that never came.
Finally my brother stood up first. He started handing plates around and asking who wanted cheesecake. One of the cousins got ice. Somebody else brought coffee in.
The world somehow continued spinning.
My mother-in-law tried one last little jab. “Well, I guess some people just weren’t raised to host.”
Ava smiled right back and said, “Oh, I love hosting. I just don’t think one woman should spend Easter serving eight adults who know where the kitchen is.”
Dead quiet after that.
But not angry quiet.
More like everybody suddenly noticing something that had always been there.
The funniest part was watching the other wives. You could almost see the realization spreading across their faces in real time that they were allowed to sit down too.
Dinner wrapped up way faster once everybody actually helped.
And ever since then, holidays at that house look completely different.
Not because Ava fought with anybody.
She just sat down.