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Jerry thought himself a man of many talents. He was good at golfing (though he had help with that one), good at beekeeping, and he even messed around with woodworking once or twice. Jerry Smith had skills.
Something he was not so talented in however, was planning a dinner party.
Which was not great for him, considering that’s what he was supposed to be doing right now. He had casually brought up the idea to the family a few weeks ago. A dinner party for close family and friends to get together, and have good food and wine! Beth agreed at the wine part, Summer and Morty seemed cool with it, and Rick…well, Jerry wasn’t exactly sure how Rick felt. When he had brought up the idea and waited for Rick to give his usual cynical opinion, Rick had simply grunted and said:
“Whatever.”
It wasn’t positive by any means, but he wasn’t complaining. That had to count for something right? At least, Jerry thought it must’ve at the time. But now as he worked his ass off in the kitchen to prepare literally everything, he kept catching Rick glancing into the kitchen and intensely observing him. Jerry was slightly irritated by the judging looks Rick kept giving him, as if he wasn’t doing his best.
His family certainly wasn’t being any help. Beth had gone out to “grab the wine” but was unsurprisingly taking a while, Summer had gone to hang out with her friends before the dinner party, and Morty said he had homework to do…like Jerry would believe that kid still cares about school after all his adventures with Rick.
But Jerry knew he shouldn’t complain too much. It was going to be a lovely evening with his family, with their close friends, he only had to remind himself of that (and also of the fact they’d all love his cooking. They had to, right?) There was no problem with him struggling, it would all be worth it…if only Rick would stop with that LOOK.
“Rick.” Jerry tried to hold a stern voice but it came out a lot more meek than he wanted. Rick slowly walked back over to the kitchen and glared at Jerry knowingly, because of course he knew he was making Jerry uncomfortable, that was probably the whole point.
“Yeah Jer?” Rick responded casually. His face was blank but Jerry could feel the smirk underneath, he knew that nickname bothered Jerry. It made it seem like they were friends but Jerry knew Rick was an egotistical jerk who loathed the idea of friends.
“I was hoping you could maybe…umm…”
Jerry seemed lost for words now as he looked at Rick, because Rick’s expression had quickly lost that edge. Now, Rick was staring blankly yet wide-eyed at Jerry’s appetizer, his attempt at Jalapeño Poppers.
“Rick? Are you listening?”
“Yeah.”
“I was just wondering if you could stop giving me all these looks and not keep looking at my food like-like, exactly how you’re doing right now.”
“Jerry, I know lately I’ve been going easier on you, but Jesus Fucking Christ. You fucked up these Jalapeño Poppers MAJORLY.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Jerry looked down at the sad, defeated Poppers which leaked out their insides and seemed to be getting soggier by the minute. But who could blame Jerry? He was cooking and preparing so many different dishes, so much to impress everybody! He was destined to flunk some course, that didn’t mean he had failed!
“Seriously, you can’t serve these.”
Jerry sighed. “I know, I know. I guess I’ll just have to make another dish and throw these o-”
Rick quickly grabbed one to try, biting into it. As he let the flavors roam around his mouth, he eventually grimaced and nodded. “Toss' em for sure.”
Jerry sadly threw them into the garbage and began looking around the kitchen in a frantic state, desperate to find something he could replace the dish with.
Rick stared at this frantic pacing with amusement but also curiosity. “Don’t you have enough appies already?”
Jerry shook his head anxiously. “No, I promised myself I’d do a certain number, I need to make everything perfect!”
Rick didn’t say anything out loud due to him trying to be less of a douchebag, but he scoffed mentally to himself about this whole thing. He never would’ve expected Jerry to be such a perfectionist over this whole thing. Sure, Jerry had shown similar signs like this during Christmas time, but this was a different breed of panic he had never seen in the man before.
“C’mon dude, chill the fuck out. Nobody’s gonna care, there’s barely any people coming anyway.”
“Hey, I’m sure lots of people will come! I made sure not a single invite got lost in the mail!…mostly because I invited everybody over text.”
Rick scrunched his eyebrows and buried his face in his hands. He sighed onto his palms before lightly slapping himself, the urge to be a dick to Jerry was overwhelming.
“Yeah yeah, sure Jer. I’m-I believe in ya, I’m fairly certain some people will c-come. I mean, at least a good dozen I’d think.”
Rick was not good at comforting nor pretending to be excited for people that he saw as insignificant. At least it was slightly more manageable for Jerry since Rick begrudgingly saw him as family now.
Jerry sighed. “Yeah, hopefully.”
Rick felt a small twinge beneath his many layers that he used to hide himself from the world, an itch that wouldn’t stop. It clawed to be freed, it screamed from within Rick’s soul and it desperately said its own name: Sympathy.
Lord help Rick for what he was about to do.
“Do you want me to help you? Will that make you stop whining?”
Jerry looked shocked. “Really?”
Rick shrugged. “Yeah man, like, whatever. You need another appie, I got some fucking experience in cooking because I literally know everything, and you…”
What Rick wanted to end his sentence with was, “and you need my help.” But instead, he decided to keep being cynical.
“…and you won’t stop whining or whatever, I don’t know dude.”
Jerry smiled. “Thanks…friend.”
Rick grimaced. “I’m not your fucking friend.”
***
When Beth got back home, she hadn’t expected to hear loud show tunes coming from the kitchen. Sure, she knew Jerry liked them, but wouldn’t Rick take the piss out of him if he played that? Last time he had played them Rick had referred to it as, “the death of culture” (Despite Beth typically siding with her father, even she thought this was a bit dramatic.)
What she expected even less was when she walked into the kitchen and saw both her husband and her father working hard together in the kitchen. Sure they were on opposite ends, but they worked in total symmetry. Rick seemed to have taught Jerry some basic kitchen work etiquette.
“Behind!” Rick said as he walked past Jerry to grab a knife on the other end of the kitchen. During that brief exchange, Rick suddenly looked over to see Beth standing there.
“Dad?” Beth’s face made it clear she was flabbergasted. “You’re actually-”
“Cooking with your dumbass husband? Yeah I am.”
Beth snickered. “I was actually going to say you seem to be enjoying the showtunes.”
Rick was silent.
Beth kept talking. “Not that you dislike show tunes but Jerry’s taste? I mean really, I didn’t expect you to like the Cats soundtrack, I always saw you as more of a Heathers f-”
“Beth, please shut up and let me suffer in peace.”
***
On Jerry’s side of the kitchen it seemed he had finally perfected his baguette loaf, slicing the bread into perfect bite sized chunks. He put the chunks onto a wooden charcuterie board and then brought it over to Rick’s side.
“They’re ready, Rick.”
“Good,” Rick said. “Put 'em down here, I’ll do the rest.”
Jerry put the board down and watched as Rick continued mixing some kind of salsa looking thing in a bow. Rick then started spooning the mix onto the bread and spreading it in, before topping it with some herbs and spices.
Jerry was amazed by Rick’s craftsmanship. “What did you call that Salsa stuff again?”
“It’s Pebre.” Rick eyed Jerry briefly, amused by his curiosity. “Well, technically it’s my bastardized version of Pebre, I used some different ingredients.”
“Well, it looks fantastic anyways.”
“Yeah, it tastes real good on a baguette. You spread it on like Bruschetta.”
Jerry raised his eyebrow. “I thought Bruschetta was the bread you spread stuff on, not the spread itself?”
Rick was silent for a moment. “Shut up, Jerry.”
***
The party seemed to be going well, a handful of people had come but it was still small enough to be casual. Everything seemed to be going well, except Jerry kept standing in the corner in a clear anxious rut. Everybody so far has praised his food and the party he’s put together, but what if they were lying to make him feel better? He’d grown used to that kind of thing from having to live with his family!
To Jerry’s surprise, instead of somebody like his wife or one of his kids coming to check on him, he felt a tap on his shoulder and saw Rick suddenly standing right next to him.
“Jerry, I need you to come with me, like right now. It’s super important.”
Jerry raised his eyebrow. “Seriously? You need me?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah I have a thing that I need your extra…uhh, Jerry-iness like qualities for.”
Jerry was not sure what the hell that meant but he supposed he’d endulge Rick for a while. “Ok Rick, but I want to get back to my party quickly, can’t let my guests go without a host.”
“Pretty sure you can Jer, none of these people seem like party animals that’d go off the second you left…well, maybe Gene but that’s it.”
“…Gene? Really?”
Rick groaned. “We don’t have time for this Jerry, come on!”
Without any other further hesitation, Jerry followed Rick.
***
Jerry had assumed Rick was about to bring him on some mission to an alien planet, to get some hidden treasure or whatever the hell Rick normally took Morty on adventures for. To Jerry’s surprise though, Rick had simply taken him to his garage and opened some secret fridge.
Rick grinned as he pulled out a green bottle, shaking it in Jerry’s face. “This right here is Green Wine, of the multiverse’s finest Wines. I was saving this bottle for a special occasion, so uhh…yeah, we can just-I mean, since it’s your party and all, I thought ‘yeah Jerry will like this’ Y’know?”
Jerry was surprised that Rick went out of his way to do this but he was even more surprised he wasn’t brought into some crazy scheme. Jerry replied, “wait, so you didn’t pull me aside to go on some crazy adventure?”
“Nope.”
“I’m confused. Couldn’t you have just brought the bottle inside and shown it to me?”
Rick shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know man, you seemed pretty fucking paranoid in there, some big old Social Anxiety, so I thought I’d pull you aside.”
Now that the gesture had been explained to Jerry, he couldn’t help but find it rather sweet.
Jerry smiled. “Thanks Rick. I mean, doing that and also buying this special wine for me? You really are a great friend.”
Rick groaned. “We’re still not friends, Jerry. Also I really just wanna make it clear to you right now, I did not buy this bottle for you. Did you even hear the thing I just said about saving it for a special occasion? Is your attention span that fucking short? Fucking hell.”
“Well, I’m honored you consider my party a special occasion.”
Rick went silent. “Whatever man, just take your fucking wine.”