All The World's A Stage: A Family Dinner 2

(Continued from 01/03)

SON: ...I mean, I have my theories. Why would an aging man insist on having a family dinner one LAST time with his nearest and dearest family members!? Cancer. For sure. It must be cancer. He was diagnosed with terminal ruthless cancer and he has... oh, I don't know... two months to live. It's awful. What a sad way to go. Really. How will I tell my kids... oh God... "Grandpa won't come visit us for Hannukah because he's up in the heavens..." "He just went to sleep and never woke up again..." No, that's horrible. I don't want to lie to my boys. "Grandpa just... died. He died. Death happens to all of us. Yes, even me. Your mother, you... someday." Oy. No... No, I can't tell them the truth. I'll take that truth to my grave. 
Can't believe the old man is going to die. I mean, yes, I know he will die. I'm not delusional. I get how mortality works. No one is above it. But my dad... I thought he'd live to 100. At least. Oh, I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for it at all.

The Son takes a seat. LIGHTS ON the middle sister who stands up.

MIDDLE SISTER: I am not happy to be here right now. Not happy at all. My mother's stew is as horrid as ever. There's cat hair all over my chair. And I can't believe I put off a meeting with the head of the biggest hedge fund in Chicago because my dad practically begged me to come by tonight. You'd think as he was a business man his whole life, HE should understand what it's like to run a career!? So disappointing. For real. But I had to go 'Yes, dad.' because he turned on the guilt on me. And then my mom turned on the tears. And now I'm here and nothing is happening. What's the big news, dad?? Are you selling the house? Are you changing your will? Are you writing a memoir and asking us all to forgive you in advance for releasing all of our family's little secrets out to the world?? I wish I could say that the anticipation is killing me. But it's really not. It's the STEW that is actually killing me.