Decisions (Modern Family)

[Dunphy House]

Ding-Dong Ding-Dong

"Hang on, Hang on. I am coming." Claire opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Mitchell shifting awkwardly on the porch. "Hey Mitchell. What's up?"

"Hey, just in the hood." Mitchell said, removing his glasses as he stepped past her into the house.

Claire turned to face him, leaving the door ajar. "Uh-huh. And?"

Mitchell fidgeted, avoiding her gaze. "Do you, uh, remember how Mom gave up her career to raise us?"

Claire looked confused at the question until a voice shouted from the other side of the door, "Promising career!"

Claire's expression morphed from confusion to horror, "Oh God!" she silently mouthed to Mitchell as Dede entered the house through the half-opened door. "Claire?"

Claire turned to look at Dede with a forced smile, "Mom?"

"Why so long?" Dede asked.

Claire schooled in her expression, "I know, I know, it's weird when we haven't talked for awhile."

"I mean your hair." Dede touched Claire's hair.

Claire jerked her head back, clutching her hair protectively. "Mmh-hmm," she muttered, backing toward Mitchell. As she passed him, she silently mouthed, 'What the Fuck?'.

"Well, if I can't tell you, who will?" Dede huffed, clearly miffed by the reaction.

Sensing the mounting tension, Mitchell jumped in, raising his hands like a referee. "So! Mom wants you to know she's very sorry for what she said to you at the wedding and really hopes we can forgive her."

Claire's brows shot up, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how nice of her to say that. Through you." She turned on her heel and headed toward the living room.

Mitchell reached out, trying to stop her. "Claire—"

Before he could finish, Dede grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Do you see?" she said, her voice heavy with hurt. "The sarcasm! It's so hurtful. Like a whip."

She followed Claire into the living room, leaving Mitchell standing alone in the foyer, glasses still in hand, staring after them in bewilderment.

A beat later, Mitchell sighed and followed. "So, anyway," he began, trying to keep his tone casual, "Mom really wants to talk to Dad and Gloria." He paused, noticing Claire picking things off the couch, motioned for Dede to stay put and stepped closer to Claire. "I was thinking... would it maybe be okay if she joined us for dinner tonight?"

Claire froze mid-reach, straightening up slowly. She turned to Mitchell with a look that said she was looking at the world's biggest idiot.

"Because," Dede interjected dramatically from across the room, "it might be the last time you ever see me."

Claire's head whipped back toward Dede, her expression now a mix of bewilderment and irritation.

Claire again looked at Mitchell with a look that said 'What is she talking about?'

Mitchell winced and hesitated. "Well…"

Claire moved her hands in confusion, "Okay, wait…Mom, what are you talking about?" She pointed at Dede with one hand, picking up a tennis racket with the other hand.

Dede took a step forward, "Claire, I am moving to a far and dangerous place."

Before Dede could be more dramatic Mitchell jumped in, "Canada. She is moving to Canada. But she met a man named Chas."

Dede shyly said, "He is a Dreamsmith."

Claire was still frozen, the tennis racket still in her hand, as she stared at Mitchell. "Canada?" she repeated, her tone a mix of disbelief and confusion.

Dede stepped closer, her hand fluttering to her chest. "It's not just Canada, Claire. It's the wilds of British Columbia. Mountains, bears, moose—"

Mitchell quickly interrupted, raising his hands. "She's moving to Vancouver. It's a city, Claire. With sushi restaurants and yoga studios."

Dede shot him a look. "Mitchell, don't undermine my journey. It's a bold new chapter in my life. And Chas is..." She trailed off, looking dreamily into the distance. "He's... rugged. A man of the land. He also owns an artisanal candle shop."

Claire blinked, processing. "A rugged man... with a candle shop?"

Dede nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! He uses sustainable beeswax and hand-harvested essential oils. He even carves the designs into the candles himself. It's very masculine."

Claire, now holding the tennis racket like a shield, turned to Mitchell. "Did you know about this?"

Mitchell, looking sheepish, shrugged. "I found out about Chas approximately two hours ago. I'm still catching up."

Dede, clearly offended, crossed her arms. "Oh, I see. So now my happiness is news to be dissected?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "No, Mom, your happiness isn't the issue. It's the part where you're suddenly moving to another country and dating a candle guy named Chas."

Dede, narrowing her eyes, pointed dramatically at Claire. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you sooner. The judgment. The skepticism. Mitchell didn't bat an eye when I told him!"

Mitchell, under his breath, muttered, "Because I was too shocked to react."

Claire set the tennis racket down, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You're leaving... tonight?"

Dede perked up. "No, not tonight. Tomorrow morning! Chas and I are taking a road trip. He's rented a camper van."

Claire stared at her mother, her mouth slightly open. "A camper van. Across the country. With you." She turned back to Mitchell. "You really expect me to be okay with this?"

Mitchell, holding his hands up in surrender, said, "Honestly, Claire, I stopped expecting anything about twenty minutes ago."

Dede, unfazed, smiled brightly. "Well, if you must know, Chas says the open road brings out the best in people. I'm sure it'll be transformative for me."

Claire, throwing her hands up, sighed deeply. "You know what? Fine. Move to Canada. Transform. But don't expect me to keep a straight face when this all goes up in flames—probably scented like lavender and bergamot."

Dede gasped. "I can't believe you'd say that!"

Mitchell, stepping between them, rubbed his temples. "Okay! Okay! Let's all calm down. Mom, maybe let's focus on tonight's dinner before we start talking about life-changing road trips?"

Dede, softening, nodded. "You're right. Tonight's dinner. A chance to make peace with everyone before I embark on my new adventure."

Claire, under her breath, muttered, "If you don't get eaten by a moose first."

Dede, hearing it, gasped dramatically again. "Claire!"

Right at the moment Haley entered the room, "Hey, Nana!"

Dede immediately smiled and went to hug Haley, "Oh! My little comet."

She separated from her and looked from head to toe, "Oh! Look at you. You're all grown up."

"Tell mom that. She won't even let me go to the concert." Haley snarked.

"Overnight. With her boyfriend." Claire interjected.

Dede chuckled loudly as she and Hayley sat down.

Everybody was suddenly confused by her chuckle, Claire asked, "What're you laughing about?"

"Oh! Karma's a funny thing, that's all." Dede replied as she found the perfect joke. "Remember, Ricky?"

"Oh God," Claire let out exasperated.

Haley, clearly intrigued, asked, "Who's Ricky?"

"No one." Claire groaned as she set down the racket and moved towards the kitchen.

Dede leaned forward towards Haley, "Ricky was your mother's boyfriend, and he looked like Charles Manson, and one night she didn't come home till four in the morning."

"Four, wow. Wow, Mom. What were you and Ricky doing?" Haley teased.

"Nothing. We were doing nothing." Claire replied as she carried a bundle of magazines in, "And he was a very sweet boy, which you might have known if you bothered to get to know him."

"Dylan's a sweet boy." Haley replied.

"Dylan?" Dede asked, intrigued.

"Dylan," Claire mocked, as she set down the magazines "Dylan is no Ricky. Ricky was a poet."

"Dylan writes songs." Haley protested, "Awesome songs. Maybe you would know that "If you bothered to get to know him"" She air-quoted.

"Ha!" Dede let out a yelp.

Claire looked up from her task, with a mildly annoyed tone, "Okay, you know, first of all, I am not my mother. I don't judge people before I get a chance to know them, so, you invite Dylan over to Dinner tonight."

Haley's face lit up. "Wait, really? Dylan can come over for dinner?"

Claire pointed at her, her tone firm. "Yes. But don't think this is me caving. This is me proving a point."

Dede smirked from her seat, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, this is going to be good."

Haley, practically bouncing with excitement, pulled out her phone. "I'll text him right now!"

Mitchell, who had been leaning against the doorway, finally decided to speak up. "Uh, Claire, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, dinner with Dylan and Mom?"

Claire shot him a determined look. "Absolutely. If I survived Ricky and Charles Manson comparisons, I can handle Dylan. Besides, Mom will probably be too busy telling embarrassing stories about me to even notice him."

Dede chimed in, grinning mischievously. "Oh, don't worry, I'll notice him. I'm excellent at first impressions. Just ask Mitchell's first boyfriend."

Mitchell groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please don't."

Haley, phone still in hand, laughed. "I don't know, Uncle Mitchell. I think I'd love to hear that story."

Claire raised her hand, cutting off the chatter. "No more stories, no more distractions. Dinner tonight is about one thing—proving I'm not a hypocrite."

Dede raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, honey, this isn't about you being a hypocrite. This is about karma finally having its day."

Claire sighed, muttering under her breath, "Karma better bring wine."

She left the living room. Mitchell chased after her, "Claire, wait… wait."

He directed a quip at Dede as he chased her, "Not making this is easy."

Mitchell caught up with Claire in the hallway. "Claire, are you seriously going to let this happen? Dylan and Mom in the same room? That's a recipe for disaster."

Claire spun around, hands on her hips. "Mitchell, do you know what a disaster is? A disaster is raising teenagers who think you're the villain in their love stories. I'm doing this to prove a point. Dylan is not some tortured poet like Ricky. He's a clueless kid who plays the guitar like he's strangling a cat."

Mitchell smirked. "Wow, you sound so not judgmental right now."

Claire pointed a finger at him. "Don't start with me. You're the one who brought Mom over like a ticking time bomb!"

Mitchell raised his hands defensively. "Hey, she said she wanted to apologize. I didn't know she'd turn it into a roast of your teenage years."

Claire groaned, slumping against the counter. "This is going to be a disaster, isn't it?"

Mitchell placed a hand on her shoulder. "Look, just… manage expectations. Mom will be Mom, Dylan will be Dylan, Dad and Gloria, well... At least you'll have wine."

Claire gave him a look. "You're bringing the wine. And you will be the one informing Dad."

Mitchell's face fell. "Why do I have to tell Dad? He's your dad too!"

Claire crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. "Because you brought the grenade into the house, so now you get to defuse it."

Mitchell threw his head back dramatically. "Oh, great! So I get to tell Dad that Mom—his ex-wife—is coming to dinner, and also, Haley's boyfriend Dylan will be there to add to the circus. Did I miss anything?"

Claire tilted her head, mock-thoughtful. "You forgot the part where Mom probably critiques Gloria's outfit and Dylan makes weird small talk about his 'sick band.'"

Mitchell stared at her for a beat, then sighed. "Fine, but you owe me. Big time."

Claire smiled sweetly, already moving past him toward the dining room. "I owe you nothing. You're the one who decided to 'swing by' with Mom in tow. Now go call Dad, and remember—charm, Mitchell. Charm."

Mitchell muttered under his breath as he pulled out his phone. "Sure, because charm is exactly what Dad responds to when it comes to Mom."

From the other room, Dede called out cheerfully, "Don't forget to mention Chas! He's such a hoot!"

Mitchell groaned again, dialing the number. "This family is going to be the death of me."

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