Dead Right, ep II

They pulled up to a security gate. Wenton looked around and Dell suddenly felt a wave of guilt crash down on him. He wasn't sure he was about to do the right thing, but it was honestly the best idea he could come up with.

The driver handed over some paperwork to the security guard. Dell heard him speak, but couldn't make out the words, then a voice squawked over his radio. He handed the paperwork back to the driver and the window rolled up.

"Have a safe one," the guard said and the gate lifted. They pulled inside, the tires of the limo giving a staccato rap as they passed over speed bumps. Dell looked over the half dozen or so cars in the parking lot, looking for Nibor's BMW. There it was. He relaxed just a tiny bit. They parked on the far end, the limo spreading across two parking spaces.

The driver cut the engine and got out. Wenton reached for his door.

"Hold on a sec." Dell pushed his brother's hand away. "Enjoy the full experience." He eyed the glass still half full in Wenton's hand. "Kill that." He put the jack and coke up to his lips and turned it upside down and was just swallowing the last of it when the door opened.

Dell turned his knees to the door and looked back at his brother. "After you."

Wenton's brother always knew how to pique a guy's interest. Anyone else and he would have bailed long before now. But the limo had been impressive and the way Dell set it up had been hard to turn down.

He climbed past him on his hands and knees past Dell and out the limo. Wenton didn't know why he that. Maybe that was how he'd gotten out of cars when they were kids and it just stuck. He thought to ponder it later, knowing he would probably forget about it in the next sixty seconds. Dell swatted him on the ass and he looked back at his brother who had a, 'Hey, I had no choice but to do that,' look on his face.

"Come with me," Dell had said back at the apartment. "I want to take you somewhere." He'd looked his brother up and down, not certain if he was joking or not before going back to the dishes. He knew Dell had gotten a fancy new job with the mayor's office a few months back, but didn't know what he did.

"What, now?" he asked putting a wine glass in the cabinet above the sink.

"Daddy, can I have that cup? My sippy cup?" He'd turned to Todd.

"No, Toddy, you're too big for those. You're a big boy now."

"But you have one." He pointed and Wenton looked.

"Where?"

"Right there." Wenton picked up his coffee mug, drying upside down in the dish rack.

"No, son. This is a coffee mug. I drink my coffee out of here."

Dell laughed. "I think he's got you, man."

"What do you mean?"

"How does Daddy drink out of there, Toddy? He sips, right?" Todd nodded. "See? Kid's smart."

Wenton opened his mouth to explain how it was different, but found himself unable to come up with anything. His son had been right and wrong. He reached up and grabbed the sippy cup down and handed it to Todd. So many things in his life could be summed up in so many words over the last year-and-a-half. Right and wrong. Two opposing ideals co-existing in a weird, quasi-harmony.