It’s Christmas Eve. Late, maybe 10:30 PM. I’m at my father’s house having Christmas dinner with him, his new girlfriend, his girlfriend’s grownup daughters, and my brother. It’s pretty mind-numbing because all my father talks about is me, all his girlfriend talks about is different Italian wines, and the girls stay silent and flirtatious while my brother fudges his personal accolades. Just a half hour more and then I’ll be free from this.

My phone starts ringing and I don’t hesitate to fish it out of my pocket. My father tells me to put it away since we have company. But I see the caller ID and I excuse myself from the table anyway, answering the call.

“Hey,” I greet once I’m safe in the privacy of the kitchen.