Travis reaches over and squeezes her hand. “She’s been distraught for weeks.” His tone is halfway between chiding and pleading, which only serves to irritate me. Mom and I don’t need a sycophantic middleman to communicate.
I lean forward, pointedly excluding Travis, and say in a low voice, “You backstabbed me, and you expected nothing to change?”
“But you don’t have to be so mean.” She pouts. It used to work well, but that was before.
“And you didn’t have to betray me. Now, if you’re done wasting my time—”
“I’m not finished,” Mom interjects quickly. “We need to talk about Preston.”
“What did he do now?” I pause for a second. “Did he run to you and ask you to intervene on his behalf so he doesn’t have to honor the wager?”
“What wager?” Her confusion seems genuine, but she’s a pretty decent actress.
“He and his ‘girlfriend’ challenged Luce and me to a tennis match. The losers were supposed to get on their knees and say, ‘We are not worthy,’ ten times. While genuflecting.”
Mom’s jaw slackens. She knows how well I play.
Travis’s expression remains blank. But then, he knows very little. His only saving grace is he has good instincts, and right now he’s doing a fine job of blending into the background.
“He and his girlfriend didn’t get a single point,” I say.
She squeezes her eyes shut.
“And both ran like their pants were on fire after the match.”
Her chest heaves as she blinks and tries to think of something to say. Finally, she flicks her hand dismissively. “It isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?” Preston always has issues.
“You can’t cut him off.”
“Why not?”
“He’s your brother, Sebastian.”
“Half-brother.” I resent that we’re related at all. Brothers are supposed to be fun, smart and cool—somebody you can count on. Like my Lasker half-brothers. Not somebody whose messes you have to clean up over and over again.
“He looks up to you,” Mom says.
“Well, I am taller.”
“You know what I mean.”
“We can agree to disagree.” Amicable, that’s me.
“What you did hurt him.” She’s inI’m going to say my piece no matter whatmode.
“Why? Did he have to get a job?”
“Sebastian. Have a little sympathy. He just wants to have a carefree life.”
“What he wants is anirresponsiblelife with no purpose or benefit to society. I won’t be an enabler.”
“I never asked you to! But you won’t even letushelp him!” She clutches her chest dramatically.
“Because you coddle and enable him. Why do you think I wanted to control the family funds?”
Mom gasps. “You’re such a cruel child!”
