The Fatherly Advice
"Hugo, call security up to my office," I bypassed my father's hand and pressed the intercom button anyway. My father gave me a disappointed look and withdrew. "I don't have time for you and the stress you lug around with you. No, you cannot come to my Thanksgiving dinner. You don't even celebrate Thanksgiving."
"That's because I live in Asia, celebrating it would just be weird."
"Not my problem," I pushed back my chair and refrained from wincing when a kick was delivered to my belly button area. "Does mom know that you're here?"
"No. She's with Emma at the moment."
"And why aren't you with them?" I raised an eyebrow at him. My parents often spent time in two completely different extremities of the earth, even though they swore up and down that they loved each other dearly. If that was how their thirty-eight year marriage stayed together, then good for them.
"Are you interrogating me?"
"Will it make you leave?"
"No."