I don’t correct him on either point.
He’s not my father, and I’d rather be a panhandler than practice the kind of law he does.
When one of the women in that group eyes Carter, a weird frisson of jealousy unexpectedly rolls through me. She’s got to be at least my mother’s age, if not older.
“And you are?” she asks him with incredibly creepy interest.
He kisses her hand, too, which makes the old bat giggle like a schoolgirl. “Carter Wilson. I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Owen’s roommate, and, it so happens, we’re both in pre-law.”
“Really? You look like you’re older than Owen.”
“I am. I’m twenty-eight.”
I can see scorn building in her eyes. “Why did you start college so late?”
“I spent eight years in the Army, before my unexpected discharge.”
“Unexpected?” Austin asks.
I buckle up and hold on for the ride, barely suppressing the evil giggle threatening to burp free.
“Injured in the line of duty. Purple Heart.”
Which barely even scratches the surface of the story, but now the entire clutch’s collective attention is fixed on him.
I don’t understand how Carter manages to tell the story in such a way that he’s both self-effacing and makes himself look like the hero he truly is. I can’t even put my finger on how he manages it, but it leaves me listening to the retelling of events just as raptly as the rest of his audience, despite already knowing the story.
“What rank were you?” one man asks.
“Sergeant. E-5.” Which is more than even I knew, because somehow, I’d never thought to ask that.
Apparently, a couple of the men now want to relive their own glory days and start peppering Carter with questions about his service, where he’d been stationed, where he went through basic, and telling him stories of their time in the military, and asking about the kind of law he’s thinking about practicing.
I sort of…fade out.
Not that I’m complaining about that, because I’m not.
Unfortunately, it leaves me open to Mom catching my eye from across the room, and from the subtle tip of her head, I know I’m being summoned.
Ignoring her isn’t an option.
I ease myself out of the circle and make my way over to her, where she starts to introduce me to people whose names I’ll never remember and don’t even care to. I nod dutifully. Before my mother can truly get cranked up, Carter appears at my side, and I never even noticed him moving across the room.
The wounded combat vet steals my mother’s thunder yet again as the group’s interest lands on Carter and he entertains them. He’s charming, funny, engaging, self-effacing—he’s a natural.
I’m shocked the man doesn’t want to go into politics, because he’d be amazing at it.
Maybe Susa and I can change his mind.
* * * *
I try to hang in there, I really do. I make it through dessert, which in and of itself is a miracle. Mom’s taken some pretty hard jabs at me tonight.
Making up for lost time, I suppose.
I laugh them all off because she set up every barb to look like she’s “just kidding” and delivered them in front of witnesses. So despite how much I’m hurting inside, I have to smile and laugh them off like I don’t think she’s serious, like I think she’sjust kidding.
Two words I fucking hate.
