Wanted For Pleasure

Chapter Five: he must be high

"The only time family becomes null is when those ties in the heart are cut. If you cut those ties, those people are not your family... And if you hate those ties, those people will still be your family because whatever you hate will always be with you."

Chris Omar Vaughn

I would rather shit in my hands and clap than watch another second of my parents' PDA.

We were out to eat for a change, at some restaurant in the city. It was nice, I guess, if you were into five star dining. Really I didn't care for overpriced meals of food that was hardly satisfactory.

Carter was just trying to impress for poor, impressionable mother.

"More wine?" The waitress asked the table.

"Please," I answered with a quickness.

When she poured some in my glass, I grabbed the bottle.

"Thanks," I said, letting her go.

"Does he always drink like this?" Carter asked my mother. He tried to whisper it but I caught it.

"Um, no, actually. You do."

Okay, that one was uncalled for. I know.

My mother gasped, throwing her napkin down.

"It's alright, Mary," he sighed.

"Uh, I don't like to be around wine. All night I've been trying to let you enjoy it, you're grown and it's my own fault, but I'd appreciate it if you could lay off a bit."

My top lip started to curl, I couldn't help it.

Seeing my mother's desperate facial expression, I eased up.

When the waitress walked by, I gave her the bottle back.

"Thank you," Carter said with pride. I didn't do it for him.

"Thank you," Mom mouthed to me. I did it for her.

Plus, it wasn't very grown of me to keep picking at him.

"So," Carter talked, forking his side dish. "you still in school?"

I didn't know it had been that long since he last saw me. I was out of school at twenty-two. Three years later. . .

Goddamn I hate small talk.

"No," I answered, cutting into my steak. I love steak.

"Oh," he said almost sounding upset he didn't know that. "Well, uh, what do you do for work?"

I looked at him, bored. After hesitation, I replied.

"I work with Uncle Malcolm."

"He's not really your uncle," Carter laughed.

If I wasn't trying to keep the peace for the sake of my mother, I would've said: well you're not really a father.

I don't even call Malcolm "uncle" it just came out, I think purposely to get under Carter's skin.

"Chris is into architecture, that's what he went to school for," Mom spoke up.

I eyed her. She didn't have to tell him that.

Carter's eyes lit up like he was so happy.

"That's amazing, bud!"

I am not seven.

"Wow," he jabbered some more. "how'd you get into that?"

"Remember he used to always sketch and build the most intricate things with his Lego's?" Mom bubbled.