“Hey, Malcolm, Mom and Dad home?”
“I believe your father is at a board meeting, your mother is in the den, and your brother is also accompanying her.”
Great, my brother is here. Insert sarcasm times a million. I walk to the den to find my mother and brother discussing an article about religious changes in the Middle East.
Boring with a capital B.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Eric! What a lovely surprise.” She stands and walks over to me. In familiar fashion, she hugs me tight, her signature scent of Chanel No. 5 lingering in the air.
“Hi, Dom.” I wave.
“Hello, Eric. It’s been a while,” he answers stiffly.
Okay, so this is the thing about my brother. He’s from another planet, like seriously. He is eight years older than me, a computer geek, I mean like he wins awards in excellence and shit like that. He isn’t gay, although I can’t confirm that because I’ve never seen him with a girl. He is quiet, lives alone in his apartment in SOHO, and well, much to my mother’s disappointment, we have nothing in common and don’t get along.
He dresses well, actually really well for a straight guy. Occasionally, I ask him where he gets a certain sweater vest, but he always answers in one-syllable words annoying the fuck out of me. He is tall, like way taller than me. From what I can see, he works out some, but he’s always covered up. He wears glasses, these thick black-framed nerd ones.
Dominic doesn’t look at all like me. His hair is almost jet black, and he has a very masculine jawline, not at all like mine. I may be twenty-two, but I swear I could join Disney because I look so baby-faced. Dom looks like a man, a real man, but too bad he has the personality of a wet mop.
“So, what’s been happening, you still doing that computer stuff?”
He huffs, only slightly under his breath, “Yes.”
And that’s the end of that conversation.
He ends up leaving, and I spend the night on the couch watching Pretty Woman with my mom. God, I love my mom. She is so beautiful, so refined. She was born in China, grew up there until her parents sent her to study here when she was eighteen. She met my dad not long after, and, well, from the bits I’ve heard, they spent the next few years trying to convince my grandfather why he should let her marry an American. They have fifteen years between them, and my dad was a colleague of my grandfather at the time. It was messy, like really messy. My mom broke every culture rule possible, but in the end, I guess it was all worth it.
I snuggle into her side as we both sit quietly and watch a whore turn into a princess.
***
By Wednesday, I’m experiencing major hump-day issues. God, I just need a good hump. The Bone Ranger is a great distraction, but it isn’t the real thing, yet. The only thing that makes my day somewhat interesting is an email Nikki and I received from Lex in the morning.
To: Eric Kennedy; Nikki Romano
Eric & Nikki,
Can I request you join me for lunch today at George’s on 7th at midday?
I have some urgent matters I would like to discuss with both of you.
Your attendance will be highly appreciated, and I ask that this not be mentioned to Charlotte. I will explain why during our lunch.
Lex Edwards
Okay, so, kind of weird because I have no idea what this is about. Nikki thinks the same, but anyway, we make up some lame-ass excuse when Charlie asks if we want to go out for lunch.
“Where are you guys going?” she questions.
“I don’t kn
ow about Nikki, but I… um, am meeting up with a friend for lunch.”
“Which friend?”
I don’t work well under interrogation. I think sweat beads are forming on my forehead. Oh my God, that means I’ll need to get another facial! My T-Zone is so high maintenance.