Family Purpose

"Good." Seeing I was quiet, Thomas nodded and lit a cigarette. He rarely smoked, though he'd gladly accept a cigarette when he couldn't find a way out of speaking about sentimental matters. "Now we'll talk about business. First, about Emma…"

"Right," Lizzie rolled her eyes, "like that's business."

"…and her association with the Chang boy." He continued as if he wasn't rudely interrupted. "It's quite an intricate timing since you've perhaps heard the rumor that the Chang clan wants to bury the hatchet and cut a deal with us. Anne?"

"They want to do business with us again," I said while staring at an empty spot on the table. This table had to be made of oak or redwood. I'd like it to be redwood. "Especially because of our connections."

"No, seriously?" Lizzie's elbows were on the table. "First, the Chicago Italians want a piece of Hollywood, and now the Chinese want to get on board too. Who next do we have to share our business with, the Irish?"

Lizzie was straight-faced again when she noticed no one else had chuckled with her.

"You may want to ask what Emma has to do with this," Thomas turned to his sister and said grimly. "The old Chang will get whatever his boy wants. And the boy wants Emma. I believe we can agree that we can't give her away on their terms."

"We can't let them in unless we get more profits out of it." My voice was empty. 

Victoria sneered. Laurie lowered his head. And I was still fascinated by what kind of wood this table might be made of. 

"You said we are done after Prohibition!" Lizzie sounded bewildered. She glared at her older brother, then me, and said shakily: "You said we aren't going to sell one of our own ever again."

"Lizzie," Thomas said broodingly, "you are acting out of line."

"How dare you?" She didn't quiver. "Selling me wasn't enough for you, so you sold Laurie. And now, do you have to ruin Emma's life too?"

Laurie gradually lifted his eyes with confusion. I dusted the cigarette.

There was something Lizzie knew but I didn't. What a surprise. 

"Elizabeth, you know very well that Lawrence has acted out of his free will." Thomas raised his voice and said sternly. He paused, narrowed his eyes and continued: "Since when have you gone confused?"

Lizzie scoffed as she turned her head away.

Victoria flipped a page. It was a quiet but crisp sound that was just loud enough to snap me out of my daze. Thinking about the material of the table was pointless. I wasn't interested in it anyway. The glass ashtray, however, was of a strange make that I'd like to keep. Though the color wasn't as clear as the others I owned, it was a glamorous shade of green and reminded me of that dress. 

"It doesn't matter! It doesn't change the fact that you can't do that to Emma, no." Lizzie pressed her hands on the table. Her nails were of a perfect almond-shape and painted in the most fashionable red. I could only wish my hands were so delicately manicured like hers. "You want Emma to break it off because you think it'll force the Changs into agreeing with your terms. But what about Emma? Do you care about her to the slightest?

"I care for her greatly." He answered without hesitation. 

"Don't ruin her, Thomas." Lizzie pleaded. "Don't ruin her like you did me."

I wanted to take the glass ashtray with me, and I would. The cigarette had burned halfway through, and I knew it was time to say something. I was tasked to speak, and I wasn't planning on failing my assignment: "you said you want her to stay away from this life. Don't you think a good man who makes honest money and can provide for her would be a better suitor than the Chang boy?"

"Why are you like this? Are you hearing yourself?" Lizzie grew increasingly frustrated. "What a bunch of nonsense. Is this what my dear brother told you to say?"

"She's better than the lot of us," I said, knowing that my sincerity would be taken as sarcasm. "She deserves a good man."

"Unbelievable." Lizzie jeered. She lifted her hands with anger before pressing them on the table in defeat, causing a loud thud that made Laurie jitter.

"Enough!" Thomas said firmly and harshly. I pushed the ashtray towards him, and he grabbed it with his left index and middle finger. He let the air settle after putting out his cigarette. "Lizzie, once the deal is made, you know what you should do."

Still having her hands on the table, she stood up. She turned to him and said quietly through her gritted teeth: "You're messed up in the head, Thomas."

No emotion was expressed as he watched her walk out of those doors and slam them shut. 

"Have you considered that your decisions will haunt you someday?" Victoria closed her book, though her finger remained between the pages where she had left off.

With the book in hand, she made her way to the door. Seeing she had left, Laurie stood up. He locked eyes with his brother for a second before slowly walking towards the door with his hands in his pockets. 

"Laurie, wait." I called out for him. He stopped abruptly and hesitated in turning around. I sighed, grabbed his left-behind tie, and caught up to him.

"Oh, thank you." He mumbled. He tried to take it from me, and when he realized I wasn't letting go, he finally met my eye after avoiding me during the whole ordeal.

I pulled the tie towards me, and he limped slightly forward.

"You're acting silly. Don't be mad. I didn't know, or I would've told you." I whispered. "Can I come over later this evening?"

He pursed his lips and pulled the tie from my grasp. Not saying a word, he lowered his eyes, nodded once, and left in a hurry. 

The doors were slammed shut again, and the sound echoed. There was a distance between the last two. Thomas walked around the table, pulled a chair, and sat beside me. I offered him another cigarette. He didn't take it. So I kept it for myself. I struck a match. It didn't light up. Another failed attempt followed. Then another. 

I sighed. "Could you help me with the match, please?"

He took the match and its box from me. He left the stubborn one on the table and took a fresh stick out of the box. The flame made a generous appearance under his touch. 

"Come," instead of passing over the match, he lit the cigarette for me, and I let him, "the day isn't over yet."

"Why didn't you tell me Wesley's coming?" I asked. "Don't you think I deserve to know before the others?"

"Maybe." He raised his brows. "Or maybe not. You tell me."

I had no answer. The line that separated what I did or didn't deserve was blurred long ago, together with those involved.

"I'm taking the ashtray," I said. "I'll bring another one here later."

"Sure," He shrugged, caught off guard by the randomness of my claim. I sat smoking quietly when he got to the door, looking back at me and furrowing his brows. He could've rushed me, but instead, he tapped on the door frame and left me still.