High Fidelity

13. ponyboy

Wilson James Taylor

"Just act like you have some sense," I warned young Hunter. He stood behind me outside of my parent's estate that evening.

Hunter stunk after his meet but I hoped my cologne plus the aroma inside the home would cover it. 

I knocked probably seven times before anyone let us in.

"Wilson, hi," Kelly bubbled, the assistant.

"Hey, Kelly. Hunter, Kelly."

He waved and stayed on my hip as we walked through the grand foyer.

"Shoes," Kelly reminded us.

I kicked mine off and shoved them in a corner under Hunter's camo Crocs.

"What is this place, the Buckingham palace?" He choked.

I walked, looking at him over my shoulder. "You can't even-- where's the Buckingham Palace, Hunter?"

He shrugged and continued to admire such a flashy mansion.

"Wilson, my everything, how are you?" My mother squealed at the sight of me nearing the dining room.

I smiled. "Hey, ma."

"Your father's in his study. I had help preparing dinner tonight, so I hope you like it. How does spinach-and-mushroom-stuffed chicken breasts, roasted potatoes, antipasto garlic bread, and Asian greens with oyster sauce sound?" She pipped, rubbing my growling stomach.

A smile came on my face, actually, it did sound good. I just couldn't believe she cooked it herself, I think she had more than a little help.

"Sounds like a mouthful," Hunter said what I was thinking.

We laughed and he pounded my fist.

"Oh. Will looks like you have a shadow," my mom giggled warmly.

I didn't even want that to be a thing, Hunter is his own person. As much as I appreciate the way he looks up to me, I don't want him following in my footsteps. I'm trying my hardest still to get my mom to think of me as in individual rather than an extension of my father. And it's not to say my father isn't successful, or that I made mistakes, I just want even more for Hunter.

Hunter didn't know if he should speak up so I nudged him forward. 

"This is Hunter. Uh, a friend," I introduced.

"A.K.A. the closest thing your mother's getting to a grandchild anytime soon?" my father made his presence known with his form of a joke.

Them and this kids thing, damn. 

"Well, why is he mute?" my mother fretted.

They looked at Hunter like a charity case. He was dirty from sports and lacked proper manners. Which, may I make very clear, isn't his own fault.

My mother got a sparkle in her eye.

"Maybe he's shy?" Kelly talked, handing my father a glass of wine.

"Perhaps," said my mother. She looked from him to me and pulled me aside.

"Setting a new place at dinner for your friend is no problem, but you could've at least hosed him down out back," she sneered.

I dropped my head, laughing. "He doesn't stink that bad."

She glared at me, a 'yes he does' look and then went to grab more plates and silverware.

Interrupting my father and Kelly's expressive conversation, my mother asked Kelly, "I assume you'll be joining us for dinner, as well? Again."

Kelly puckered her lips. "Yes, thank you. Hope I'm not imposing."