forty-three
Rory
“Canyoupassmean egg roll?”
Finn’s already had three, but who’s counting?
Tonight’s dinner consists of take-out boxes, chopsticks, and work that never seems to end.
Our family dinners have less consistently been at the Casper mansion and more at Hardin. It just makes more sense for everyone since Abram co-ran the company and I work in the mail room.
Finn claims he brings food because he doesn’t want us to starve. Showing up several times a week with takeout after practice lets out. He says this, but I know he’s started to enjoy this time together. It’s almost like we’re a real family.
No one ever asks where Lorna is, not even Finn brings her up much. She’s around, but she’s basically alone. Isolated in her own company.
She and Abram’s marriage is a lot like the sun. Damaging to your eyes but will also burn your brain cells.
“I know you all can hear me,” Finn adds, peeved.
“How can anyone hear over your slurping? It’s chow mein, not soup,” Cole says, voice as dry as it is humorless.
In response, Finn shoves down a large bite and sucks the noodles between his teeth.
“You made your point,” I complain. The noise getting to even my nerves now. “Sometimes you make me wonder how we’re related,” I say, tossing him my egg roll.
Losing it’s a small price to pay if it means he’ll stop grinning with bits of leftover green onion lodged in his teeth.
“I know you were taught how to use a napkin,” Abram says, tossing him one. “The money I’d spent for those etiquette classes your mother forced you to take seem to be going to waste.”
I nearly choke on my broccoli beef. “Youhad etiquette lessons?”
Finn’s mouth turns grim, side-eyeing Abram.
“He had them for years. He could never seem to manage the, well, etiquette part.”
“I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.” My head rolls back on a laugh. The cold anger glittering in Finn’s eyes making it even more humorous.
Abram, indifferent to it all, shrugs as he picks at his food.
Everyone else joins in, laughing at his expense when he rips the egg roll through his teeth. His chewing is slow like he wishes it were my head.
“Ah, come on, Finn, it only took you, what five years?”
The color drains from Finn’s face. “Dad,” he fumes through clenched teeth.
The warning clear in his tone, but Abram’s not the least bit threatened by his son. Dabbing at his mouth with a napkin to conceal his smirk.
“You guys are the worst,” Finn whines before shoving himself from his seat.
“Weren’t you taught it’s impolite to leave the table without permission?” Cole hollers at his retreating form.
Finn stumbles. “And I thought this was going to be a nice dinner before we leave for our trip.”
Laughing like hyenas, he waves his arm, flipping us all off, exiting.
For that one comment right there, I’m grateful Finn invited Cole to dinner tonight. I’m sure he didn’t mind joining. Eating with us better than sitting in Silas’s stuffy office.
I’ve only been in there once when they’d tricked me. That trip absolute misery.