Decisions (Modern Family)

"Jay, I am home. Did Manny call?" Gloria vocalized as she set foot in the house, setting her workout equipment on a table at the side.

Jay, who had been reading the newspaper by the kitchen island, replied, "No, because he's fine." He turned towards Gloria, "It was a slumber party, not a gang fight."

"I just want him to fit in. He is not like Vincente." said Gloria with a soft tone. "I'm gonna take a shower, Do you care to join me?" The last bit was said with a naughty tone.

"You know honey, there's a gun in the footlocker in the garage. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to use it on me?" Jay smirked.

Gloria naughtily giggled.

"How about you use it on me now?" Vincente's disgusted voice interrupted their atmosphere.

Jay jumped, almost spilling his coffee. "What the—Vincente! What are you doing here?"

Gloria spun around, her face turning red as she flusteredly smoothed her hair. "Vincente! Ay, Dios mío, how long have you been here?"

"Long enough to be emotionally scarred for life," Vincente deadpanned, closing his laptop. He was working on one of his projects on the dining table when the two adults decided to ignore his existence. "You are paying for my therapy."

"Geez kid, what are you doing home? Don't you have friends or something?" Jay grumbled.

"I have friends Jay, don't act like you don't remember them. You met their parents." Vincente replied, "And we can't have fun when Stiles's dad is there, Cat lives way too far and random girls show up when we are with Allen."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Random girls? At nine years old? What kind of crowd are you running with?"

"Relax, Jay," Vincente said, rolling his eyes. "They're probably his cousins or something. Either way, it's annoying." He stood up and stretched. 

Gloria placed her hands on her hips, looking concerned. "Vincente, you don't have fun with your friends anymore? You should be outside, playing, not working on your little computer all the time."

"Well it's better than having you hover over us and force us to play… whatever boring thing you think kids enjoy." Vincente commented.

Jay scoffed. "What, kids don't like Monopoly anymore? It builds character."

Vincente stared at him. "Sure, Jay. Because nothing says fun like bankrupting your friends and ruining lifelong relationships over fake money."

Gloria couldn't help but laugh. "Ay, Vincente! Why do you have to sound like such an old man sometimes?"

"Probably because I've been stuck with Jay too long," Vincente quipped.

Ding-Dong

The doorbell echoed through the house, interrupting their conversation.

Gloria, being the one close to the door, opened it to see a man standing in a very expensive suit, combed back hair and a smirk that said 'I am the man.'

"Hola?" Glori greeted him in a friendly tone.

"Hola, I am here to see Jay Pritchett." the man's voice exuded confidence.

"Jay, it's for you." Gloria called out as she stepped aside to let the man enter.

Jay, still holding his coffee mug, looked up from the kitchen with a frown. "Who the hell wears a suit like that just to knock on someone's door?"

The man strode in confidently. "Harvey Specter," he said, extending a hand to Jay with a charismatic smile. "And I wear suits like this because I close deals like no one else."

Jay raised an eyebrow, "Specter? That name's familiar. Are you the lawyer Clemente recommended?"

Harvey's smirk widened as he shook Jay's hand with a firm grip. "The one and only. If Clemente sent you my way, he must've told you I'm the guy who gets things done."

Jay gave him a once-over, clearly unimpressed but intrigued. "Yeah, he mentioned you. Said you're a bit... flashy for my taste, but you know how to make things happen."

Harvey chuckled, adjusting his cufflinks. "Flashy gets attention, and attention wins battles. But don't worry, Jay, I'm not here to waste your time with style—only results."

Gloria looked between the two of them, confused. "Wait, wait—Jay, what is this? Why are you calling lawyers? Is someone targeting the business, someone making a problem, you just tell me Jay and I'll…"

"Woah, woah, woah, geez no need to go whole Pablo Escobar just yet." Jay tried to calm down Gloria, "I didn't call for myself, I was asking around for one because he told me he needed one." He pointed at Vincente.

"Wait a second," Vincente said, raising his hands. "I didn't ask you to call any lawyer, Jay."

Jay crossed his arms, looking slightly defensive. "I know you didn't, but you implied you needed one. That whole patent thing you were rambling about last week? You said, and I quote, 'I might need legal help.' So I asked around. And don't act like you weren't planning to dump this whole mess in my lap eventually, kid."

Before Vincente could respond, Harvey stepped forward, his confident smirk never faltering. "Wait a second. You were asking around for a lawyer for this kid?" He gestured to Vincente.

Vincente arched an eyebrow, standing and walking toward Harvey with the kind of poise that felt unnatural for someone his age. "This kid has a name. Vincente Delgado-Pritchett. And while I appreciate your dramatic entrance, I wasn't exactly waiting for my knight in pinstriped armor."

Harvey's smirk widened, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Vincente Delgado-Pritchett, huh? Rolls off the tongue. You got a business card to match, or do I need to whip one up for you?"

Vincente chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't do business cards. Waste of paper. But if you're trying to impress me, you might want to lead with something other than a suit straight out of a GQ spread."

Harvey, unfazed, leaned forward slightly. "You know, I've closed deals with CEOs, politicians, and even a few tech wunderkinds like yourself. But none of them had the nerve to talk to me like that. I like it. You've got guts, kid."

Vincente smirked, his charm turning up a notch. "Guts are overrated. It's brains that win the game. And judging by your reputation, I'm guessing you already know that."

Gloria beamed, clearly proud of Vincente. "That's my boy! So smart and handsome."

Jay groaned. "Alright, let's not inflate his ego any more than it already is."

Vincente turned to Jay with a grin. "I don't need you to inflate my ego, Jay. It's self-sustaining."

Harvey laughed, genuinely amused. "Alright, Vincente, you've got my attention. So, what's this big idea that's got your family calling me in?"

Vincente's expression softened, his tone still confident but now with a hint of sincerity. "It's about intellectual property. I'm working on a project that could disrupt a pretty big market, and I want to make sure it's protected before it takes off. I wasn't planning on getting lawyers involved yet, but since you're here... convince me you're worth it."

Harvey's eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Oh, I'll do more than convince you. By the time I'm done, you'll wonder how you ever thought you could do this without me."

Vincente tilted his head, considering. "Bold claim. But I like bold. Let's see if you can back it up."

Gloria clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! That's enough business talk. Vincente, you'll think about it. Jay, stop grumbling. And Mr. Specter, would you like some coffee?"

Harvey flashed his signature grin. "If it's as good as the company, Mrs. Pritchett, I'd love some."

"Okay, that's enough of that." Jay intervened, "Vincente and I are deciding if we are going to take your consul, not Gloria."

Harvey shrugged. 

The sound of the door opening was heard, "Mom, I'm home." Manny entered the room

"Hi! Baby, did you have fun aaah…" she screamed as she turned around to give Manny a hug, she pointed at his face "What's on your face?"

Manny paused mid-step, his confident demeanor evaporating as he touched his cheek self-consciously. "What? Oh, this?"

Gloria's eyes widened. "Yes, that! It looks like... like a marker or something. Did someone draw on you?"

Manny sighed dramatically, dropping his backpack on the floor. "No, Mom. It's called face paint. It's supposed to be a tiger. It was for a game at the slumber party."

Jay couldn't hold back a laugh. "Tiger? You look more like a raccoon that lost a fight."

Manny glared at Jay, then looked at Gloria. "See? This is why I said no when they first suggested it. But they insisted, and then someone sneezed while painting the stripes!"

Vincente smirked from his spot by the table. "Looks like the real jungle was the friends we made along the way, huh, Manny?"

Harvey, leaning casually on the counter, chimed in with a sly smile. "I don't know, kid. I've seen worse art in some Manhattan galleries. You might be onto something."

Gloria clasped Manny's face gently, turning it side to side. "My poor baby! Next time, you say no. No more letting people do this to you. Ay, Dios mío!"

Manny sighed. "It's fine, Mom. I'll wash it off." He then glanced at Harvey and froze. "Wait a second. Are you... Harvey Specter?"

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "You've heard of me?"

Manny nodded eagerly. "Of course! You're one of the top corporate lawyers in the country! I read about you in a business magazine."

Jay looked at Manny, unimpressed. "You're ten. Why are you reading business magazines?"

Manny shrugged. "Because they're interesting, Jay. Not everyone thinks comic books are the height of literature."

Vincente smirked again. "Careful, Manny. That tiger face is starting to look like a snob."

Gloria waved her hands, exasperated. "Enough, enough! Manny, go wash your face. Harvey, you want sugar in your coffee? And Jay, stop teasing Manny. He's sensitive!"

Jay muttered, "Yeah, about as sensitive as a goldfish."

As Manny trudged off to the bathroom, Vincente turned back to Harvey. "So, Mr. Specter. Think you can survive a family like this and still deliver?"

Harvey grinned, his confidence unshaken. "Vincente, if I can handle Wall Street, I can handle anything. Let's get to work."

Thud

As the atmosphere settled in, a bird hit the window startling everyone, except Harvey (he is from New York).

"Jeez, what was that?" Jay asked, confused.

"I've heard enough of that sound to know that it was a bird hitting the window." Harvey replied nonchalantly.

"Ay, Dios mios!" Everybody turned around to see a scared faced Gloria with her fingers crossed, "That is a bad sign."

[Pritchett-Tucker House]

"So, mom, what brings you here?" Mitchell cautiously asked the woman sitting opposite him.

DeDe waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, Mitchell, must you always assume I need a reason to visit my son?" She paused, glancing around. "Where's Cameron? I brought him a little something."

"He's outside setting up the garden for Lily," Mitchell replied. Then, with narrowed eyes, he added, "And don't change the subject. What do you need, Mom?"

DeDe sighed dramatically. "Fine. I came because I need advice. And you're the only one in this family who has a shred of sanity left."

Mitchell arched an eyebrow, skeptical. "Should I even ask what kind of advice?"

"I need closure Mitchell." Dede said with a wistful look.

Those words immediately alarmed Mitchell, "What kind of closure?"

"I'm about to embark on a new journey." She leaned in slightly, "I met a man."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

Dede nodded her head, "His name is Chas and he has asked me to come with him to live in his foreign land."

"Wow, where?" Mitchell asked, astonished.

"Canada!" She said it like it was a town in France.

Mitchell's face fell, "Canada?"

Dede nodded, "French Canada."

Before Mitchell could respond, Cameron walked in, wiping his hands on a towel. "DeDe! What a surprise. And what's this about Canada?"

DeDe turned to Cameron with a radiant smile, clearly delighted by his entrance. "Oh, Cameron, there you are! I was just telling Mitchell about my exciting new chapter. I've met a wonderful man named Chas, and he's invited me to live with him in French Canada."

Cameron's eyebrows shot up, his tone a careful mix of enthusiasm and concern. "Well, DeDe, that sounds... adventurous. French Canada? That's, uh, Quebec, right? Or possibly New Brunswick?"

DeDe waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I don't bother with specifics, Cameron. It's the land of croissants and romance, isn't it? Anyway, Chas says it's very cosmopolitan."

Mitchell leaned forward, rubbing his temples. "Mom, do you even speak French?"

DeDe gave a dramatic sigh. "Mitchell, language is no barrier to love. Besides, I've been practicing." She cleared her throat and confidently announced, "Omelette du fromage!"

Cameron tried to stifle a laugh. "That's... a solid start, DeDe. Though I think that means 'cheese omelet.'"

DeDe frowned, looking slightly offended. "Well, everyone loves cheese omelets! It's versatile. It'll get me far."

Mitchell groaned, unable to hide his skepticism any longer. "Mom, are you sure about this? I mean, you've known this guy for, what, a few weeks?"

DeDe bristled. "Mitchell, it's been three months, and for your information, Chas is a highly respected artist. He creates abstract sculptures inspired by his dreams."

"Dreams?" Mitchell repeated flatly. "You're uprooting your life for a man who molds nightmares into papier-mâché?"

DeDe narrowed her eyes. "Don't be so judgmental. Chas has a vision, and he sees me as part of it. He says I'm his muse."

Cameron clasped his hands together, smiling warmly. "Well, DeDe, if this makes you happy, then who are we to judge? Love knows no borders—or languages, apparently."

DeDe beamed at Cameron. "Thank you, Cameron. At least someone supports me."

Mitchell threw his hands in the air. "I never said I didn't support you, Mom. I just... worry. French Canada isn't exactly the Paris of your dreams."

DeDe stood dramatically, brushing off her dress. "Well, I don't expect you to understand, Mitchell. You've always been so... cautious. But don't worry, I'll send postcards from my new, exciting life while you stay here, playing it safe."

As DeDe swept out of the room to see Lily, Cameron turned to Mitchell, grinning. "You know, she might actually fit in up there. They're big on dramatic flair in French Canada."

Mitchell shook his head, exhaling sharply. "I'm less worried about her fitting in and more worried about Canada sending her back."

Dede came back into the room, coddling and cooing to Lily when Mitchell interrupted her. "Hey, mom, so, about that closure you were talking about?"

DeDe looked up from Lily, her dramatic energy softening just a touch. "Ah, yes, closure. Well, Mitchell, it's about your father."

Mitchell's eyebrows shot up. "Dad? What about him?"

DeDe sighed, placing Lily gently back in her playpen. "I just... I need to close that chapter of my life. Before I leave for French Canada, I feel like I need to say goodbye. Properly this time."

Cameron exchanged a look with Mitchell, a glimmer of worry in his eyes. "DeDe, are you saying you want to talk to Jay? In person?"

DeDe raised her chin defiantly. "Yes, Cameron. Why does everyone act like that's such a crazy idea? I've already spoken to Chas about it, and he thinks it's a beautiful way to honor my past while embracing my future."

Mitchell sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Mom, this sounds like one of those things that ends with Dad locking himself in the garage for three days, or Gloria threatening to hire a hitman."

DeDe frowned, genuinely perplexed. "Why? I was perfectly pleasant at their wedding. I didn't do anything to earn Gloria's hostility."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "It's not about what you did during the wedding, Mom. It's about before the wedding. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." He pointed at her for emphasis. "The only reason you didn't cause a scene was because, somehow, you ran into Vincente first. And I don't know what that kid said to you, but whatever it was, you magically behaved yourself—at least until the reception."

DeDe blinked, feigning innocence. "Vincente? Oh, please. He's just a child. What could he possibly have said to make me behave any differently?"

Mitchell gave her a flat look, clearly unconvinced. "Don't give me that. Vincente might be a kid, but he's got the emotional intelligence of a seasoned diplomat and the tactical skills of a chess master. He probably saw you coming a mile away and neutralized the situation before it even started."

DeDe tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, if you must know, he did have a rather... persuasive way of putting things. Something about not wanting to ruin Gloria's 'happily-ever-after' and how I'd 'regret being remembered as the villain of the story.'" She paused, chuckling lightly. "I have to admit, it was quite poetic for someone his age."

Mitchell stared at her in disbelief. "So, let me get this straight—you behaved yourself because an eight-year-old guilt-tripped you into it?"

DeDe shrugged nonchalantly. "It wasn't guilt; it was... perspective. The boy has a gift for cutting through the noise." She waved a hand dismissively. "Besides, it's not like I was planning to make a scene. He just... reinforced my better instincts."

Mitchell's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh. And that's why you waited until after the reception to call Gloria's dress 'a glorified piñata?'"

DeDe gasped, clutching her pearls in mock offense. "I never said that! I said it was festive."

"Festive?" Mitchell repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Mom, you said it loud enough for Gloria's second cousin to hear. I'm surprised she didn't come after you with the party stick."

Cameron, who had been quietly observing with a bemused expression, finally interjected. "Okay, I know this is a lot to unpack, but can we just take a moment to appreciate that Vincente somehow managed to diffuse DeDe in her most volatile state? Honestly, that kid deserves a medal—or at least a therapist on speed dial."

DeDe rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Cameron. I wasn't that bad."

"MOM!" Mitchell exclaimed, raising his voice in exasperation. "The entire drive back, you wouldn't stop ranting about how you were going to burn everything to the ground—or questioning whether Gloria's... assets were the result of meeting Jay or just good genes."

DeDe gasped, feigning offense. "I never said anything about burning things down!"

Mitchell folded his arms. "You literally said, and I quote, 'I should set the whole thing on fire and start fresh.'"

DeDe hesitated, then waved a hand dismissively. "Well, I was being metaphorical. And as for Gloria's—well, let's just say I was curious. It's not a crime to wonder!"

Cameron burst out laughing. "Oh, DeDe, if curiosity were a crime, you'd be a repeat offender."

He shut up when both of them glared at him.

"DeDe, maybe this closure doesn't have to involve a dramatic face-to-face. Perhaps a heartfelt letter? Or even a... symbolic gesture?"

DeDe tilted her head, considering. "A symbolic gesture? Like what?"

Cam shrugged.

DeDe stood, her chin lifted with renewed determination. "Then it's settled. I'll craft my peace offering, consult Vincente, and handle this like the mature adult I've always been."

Mitchell raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's... one way to describe you."

Cameron leaned in with a teasing smile. "Oh, don't worry, DeDe. If Gloria comes after you with a party stick, I'll be sure to document it for posterity."

As DeDe left the room with Lily, a confident bounce in her step, Mitchell sighed, shaking his head. "I swear, sometimes I think we're all just living in her personal soap opera."

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