Family Agenda
The landscape painting of a nude female clung to the wall of the old dining room hall. It was fastened into gilded frame, delicately carved with fleur-de-lis and dazzling, mezmerizing shapes. The man in the trenchcoat-fedora combination stood quiet beneath the dotted Swiss drapes, looking past a table of food, staring down at the back of the young man's head.
"You're a disgrace, you know that, right? I'm sure you do. You made your choice very clearly. All this food, comfort, luxury– all this had to go to waste so you could score your silly little political points."
"That's right," his nephew replied, "and I'd do it again."
The uncle stood there, his breath heavy, fuming with a rage that he worked so hard to suppress.
"You know your father wanted nothing to do with you. He wanted your mother to abort. And I talked him out of it. I got to his face, and I told him. Give him a chance. Let your boy live."
The young man turned to face his uncle, anticipating the rest of the story.
"I see now what a mistake that was."
The uncle walked up to the table, and with violent force, he tossed it to its side. All the porcelain plates and antique silverware tumbled in a thundering crash, shattering to pieces. He stormed towards the exit.
"Wait!" the young man shouted.
His uncle stopped in his tracks. He turned.
"Tell me. Has it always been this way? Has love in this family always been contingent on whether one did as they were told, as long as one did as they were expected?"
His uncle smirked. "You're alluding to unconditional love. Let me make it clear, such a thing doesn't exist. Not especially for silly little men who toss away the family fortune out of their own selfish behavior."
"My choices were mine and mine alone, and you could call them anything but selfish, ok? Realize that at the very least. If I squandered our riches, well, that was not my intention. I only intended to do what was right. I only intended to speak up for those who have no voice. I did what I thought was honorable, and–"
"Honors got nothing to do with it."
"Really? Cause the way my father made it seem, honor's the only thing a man's got any real possession of in this life. Anything else, his house, his money, his car, even his hands, and feet, it can all be taken away from him just like that," he said with a snap, "But I protected my honor, in the interest of my family's honor. And I'm sorry, but I will not apologize for that."
Having no other words in response, his uncle promptly left the room.