As Mark and James entered the dining room, they immediately spotted Jenny sitting at the table, completely absorbed in her phone. Her earlier tears seemed forgotten as she giggled at whatever she was reading. Mark couldn't help but think how quickly Jenny's moods could shift—one minute she was nearly in tears, and now she was smiling like nothing had happened.
He exchanged a glance with James, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. They both shrugged, silently acknowledging the unpredictability of women's emotions. Mark thought for a moment that maybe women were born natural actors, able to change their expressions in the blink of an eye. They shared a quiet chuckle at the thought.
Just as the boys were about to sit down, two figures appeared from the kitchen. Debbie came out first, carrying a tray piled high with sandwiches, while Diane followed closely behind, balancing a pitcher of orange juice and a few glasses.
Mark, ever the gentleman, didn't sit right away. Instead, he stepped forward, offering to help. "Here, let me give you a hand with that."
But before he could reach for the tray, both women waved him off with amused smiles. Debbie, her tone playful but firm, said, "You're our guest today, Mark. No need to trouble yourself."
Diane chimed in, echoing her sister's sentiment. "Besides, we don't need a man to carry a few sandwiches. We've got it covered."
Caught between their dismissive gestures and playful smiles, Mark hesitated before raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I get it. I'll sit down and behave," he said with a smirk, stepping back and lowering himself into the chair beside James.
James chuckled and patted Mark on the back. "Don't take it personally, man. They like doing things their way."
Jenny, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, let out a soft laugh. Mark glanced her way, catching her eye just as she covered her mouth, trying to suppress her chuckles. It was clear she found his failed attempt at chivalry entertaining, and Mark couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Glad someone's enjoying this," he muttered, though there was a smile on his face.
Jenny, still smiling, looked up from her phone and teased, "I just think it's cute that you tried, but it's even cuter how you got shut down."
Mark laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I guess I'll just have to pick my battles better next time."
Debbie placed the tray of sandwiches on the table and Diane poured the orange juice into glasses, setting them down in front of each guest. "Alright, dig in, everyone," Debbie said cheerfully, sliding into her seat.
As they began eating, the atmosphere around the table was warm and relaxed.
Conversation flowed easily, with James talking about the classes he had missed in the previous week ever since his father's death.
Debbie said that she would help James in talking to his teachers about that.
Then, Debbie asked Mark how he was settling in. Diane joined in, saying that he was staying at hers, and shared some stories about their recent adventurous delivery earlier, such as how they almost got a student into trouble because of an early delivery.
Mark quipped that they also had Tony's legendary pizza. Diane laughed, recalling Mark's Picasso pizza, as she described its odd appearance.
Mark was immediately embarrassed, saying it was his first time making a pizza, but Diane had an ace up her sleeve, she had taken a picture of it. Diane proudly shared the photo with everyone at the table.
As Debbie, Jenny, and James looked at the picture, James was baffled and unintentionally muttered, "What abomination is this?" Debbie chuckled, and Jenny held back her laughter as she glanced at Mark.
Mark, seeing their reactions, felt even more embarrassed. "It was my first time making pizza! I didn't know it'd turn out like that," he explained, trying to defend himself.
Jenny chuckled again, thinking that her crush had a surprising weakness.
Diane then chimed in, praising Mark's unbelievable strength, mentioning how he could easily lift crates full of vegetables as though there was nothing inside.
James humorously added, "Looks like you're not too talented in the kitchen, man. Stick to lifting crates."
Jenny, who had been focused on her phone, suddenly lost interest in it and started paying more attention to Mark, commenting on his wide shoulders and strong arms that were still visible even beneath his black leather jacket.
Jenny asked "Why are you even wearing that jacket? It's so hot outside."
Mark was about to respond, but Diane interjected. "Oh, that's because his luggage got stolen after he arrived in town."
Mark thought back to his lie—he hadn't brought any luggage when he was transported into this world. He had only the clothes on his back.
Debbie, shocked, immediately expressed concern. "Oh my gosh, Mark! What happened?"
Mark repeated the fabricated story he'd told Diane. "It got stolen when I wasn't looking. I didn't even realize until it was too late."
Debbie looked saddened and asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Mark glanced at Diane, who then spoke up. "Actually, sis, you could help him. You know, you've still got some of your ex-husband's clothes lying around. I mean, he'll look ridiculous wearing that biker getup to a funeral."
Jenny, not one to hold back, chimed in. "Yeah, Mom, you should just give him those clothes. Didn't you always want to throw out Dad's stuff anyway? I mean, it's not like we need to keep things from that incompetent loser."
Debbie shot Jenny a sharp look, her voice stern. "Watch your language, young lady."
Jenny rolled her eyes, clearly unfazed. "What? It's the truth. He left us with nothing but his mess to clean up."
Debbie sighed, deciding to let it slide. "I still have some of his clothes, but they're mostly casual. There's no suit, I'm afraid."
Mark was about to lose hope, unsure what to wear to tomorrow's funeral. He thought for a moment, before saying, "Anything helps, really. I just need something appropriate."