Chapter Text
Dinner at the Wheelers could not be described as Jonathan’s favourite activity, he would very much prefer dinner with one Wheeler, only to climb up to the window in her room and do his, theirs, favourite activity. Découpage. Just kidding. It’s sex.
However, a Karen Wheeler’s roast was not an opportunity you could miss, as Dustin used to say and she could be quite frightening when someone dared to refuse her invitation.
A smile so wide she could be Jack Nicholson’s twin, cutting vegetables with the same vehemence he used with the axe in The Shining.
“But I have already made the baby carrots ”
So, here he was, sitting between Ted Wheeler, completely focused on the mashed potatoes in front of him -Jonathan swore the man had could only think about one thing at a time, and only if he could see it- and Nancy, who Heaven help him, was rubbing her sock-clad feet against his calf, making it very difficult not to choke on those damned baby carrots.
“Jonathan” Karen began “I heard it was your birthday last week. I haven’t had the chance to wish you a happy birthday. I’m sorry”
“Uhm, yes, it was. Thank you Mrs. Wheeler” Meanwhile Nancy, the little minx, was bringing her foot higher and higher up his leg.
“How many times I’ve told you? Call me Karen, please, sweetheart. As I was saying, turning eighteen is a big deal and I had the best idea for your gift!” she said bringing her hands together.
Nancy suddenly dropped her foot. Confusion and worry on her face. Uh oh.
“Mrs. Wh- Karen, thank you but it’s really not necessary…”
“Nonsense! Nancy, honey, do you remember my friend Gina? The blonde one? From the knitting club?”
“Uhm, maybe?” Nancy offered.
Karen shrugged, dismissing her daughter inexcusable lack of knowledge of her knitting club friends “Well, she got married again and opened up her own business just outside of Hawkins. I figured since you two are always together it would be good to do a fun activity! To strengthen your bond! Don’t you think?”
Oh man, those baby carrots felt like stones in his stomach.
“What kind of activity, mom?” Nancy asked, her voice shaking.
Mike, the cheeky fucker, was trying to hide his smirk behind his glass of water.
This could not be good.
Jonathan took a sip of that red wine, he was sure he was about to need more when Karen squealed: “It’s a dance studio !”
Jonathan choked on his wine, spitting on his plate. Oh, boy, this was worse than expected. Nancy looked equally horrified, she opened her mouth to speak but her mother was quicker.
“I have already talked to her, you don’t need to worry about anything, darling. The lessons are once a week, on Tuesday night, because I know Jonathan doesn’t have to work since the cinema is closed, from eight to ten. She promised me she would be there, to make you feel at home!”
Once the link between brain and mouth was restored Jonathan said, with a voice more shaky than when he faced the demogorgon “Thank you, Karen… I… it’s…”
“Wonderful! Right? Nancy, sweetheart, what do you think?”
“Mom, I’m-
“Oh cut it there, young lady! No buts. You’ll go, otherwise I’ll tell your father what happened to the drainpipe last week.” she finished whispering.
Nancy’s face went pale, then sighed in defeat.
Ted looked up from his plate “What’s up with the drainpipe?”