father hates from the outside. I hope he’s doing this for himself and not just to piss off dear old dad.
“Are you sure we have to go?” Sterling asks as he runs a tattooed hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” I mumble, checking the time. “Mom will appreciate you joining us—without whining.”
Mom left an hour earlier with Abigail, who’s graduating from high school today. It’s a bittersweet moment for my parents. Their two sons are adults and their last foster child is leaving the nest. This time, nothing will sway Dad’s decision. He said this will be the last time they’ll foster a child no matter the circumstances. They are too old to deal with children.
Abby wasn’t an easy kid. She didn’t trust any of us at first and her night terrors still keep us up at night. However, after a year of our support, she’s ready to go to college. Today, we’re celebrating another milestone. Mom likes to reassure her that she’s part of our family. That’s why she insisted on having Sterling come. My parents want to celebrate this day as a family.
“Of course, you have to go,” Dad scowls at Sterling, handing him one of his ties. “We said formal, Slugger.”
My brother frowns at his childhood nickname.
“I’m old enough to vote, Dad,” he pauses glaring at him. “Maybe you should start calling me Sterling instead of Slugger.”
He hangs the tie around his neck and slumps his shoulders. “Can you help me fix this shit, Wes?”
I can’t help but laugh at the irony.
“Your mother pampered you too much, Slugger,” Dad sighs, exasperated.
“Maybe you should save your allowance and buy one of those clip-on ties.” I laugh while working on his tie. “They sell them in the children’s section.”
“Fucker,” he growls at me.
“That’s all you can come up with, Sluggy.” I let out a laugh that echoes through the great room.
“Boys!” Dad’s aggravation stops our childish argument.
“Yes, Dad,” I say finishing the knot.
“We artists don’t need a dress code,” Sterling defends himself.
My little brother is a sculptor, a painter, and sometimes, an actor. He lives in New York City and attends Parsons School of Design. A place Dad swears isn’t a college, but a very expensive recreation center. Which is unfair. Sterling is talented. He goes to one of the most prestigious art schools in the world. Our father doesn’t understand my little brother and doesn’t even care enough to try.
Sterling has fought Dad’s rules since we were children. Everything between them is a battle. His church attire, when to do his homework, and his bedtime. When my parents weren’t home, he’d use the staircase and the furniture to skateboard. At thirteen he was stealing their cars, and at sixteen he raided the wine cellar.
“Buy yourself a suit,” Dad orders.
Sterling’s jaw twitches, but he doesn’t say anything. When my brother moved to New York, he donated all his suits. Hence, he’s wearing one of my jackets that’s a couple of sizes too large.
“That career isn’t going to pay your bills.”
You do, Sterling mouths, chuckling at his own joke.
“Weston, you should talk some sense into this kid,” Dad puts on his jacket. “Are you two driving with me?”
“No, Dad. We’re going in my car. Abby’s taking her driver’s test right after the ceremony,” I remind him.
Abbs and I are celebrating today before the big party. I promised to take her to lunch and then for her driver’s license test. We have a lot to celebrate. She was accepted into Berkeley, and though she hasn’t declared her major, she’s excited about college.
“What about the party?” Dad says gruffly.
“It’s not until six.” I check the time. “We have to leave now, or we won’t make it to the ceremony.”
“Do you want to drive my car?” Dad shows Sterling the key to his Bentley.
“Nah, I’m riding with Wes to get some time in before he ditches me for Abby after the ceremony.”
I give him an inquisitive look but say nothing. Once we’re in the car, I ask, “Why are you avoiding Dad?”
“I just—” he trails off “—This isn’t where I want to be.”
“You could’ve stayed in New York,” I mumble.
“Dad’s disappointment is enough. I wouldn’t want to add Mom’s,” he growls. “And even if I had stayed away, he’d call to remind me that if I wanted, he could get me into the business program at DU. Dad can’t accept me, my career, or the fact that I’m not going to take over his little empire along with you.”
He groans, shaking his head.
This ongoing argument