“You are not calling your father.”
“I need independent verification.”
“You call him and we will have forty mathematicians, six physicists and a film crew here before dinner.”
“He won't call a film crew.”
“Last month he hired a photographer because Pierre built a circuit.”
“It was his first optical processor.”
“He wore pajamas.”
“They were good photographs.”
“No.”
Pierre swivels toward us.
“Can I send it to Grand-père?”
Both of us look at him.
I sigh.
Xavier takes his phone back.
Traitor.
“Send it.”
Pierre smiles.
Three minutes later, Xavier's phone rings.
We look at each other.
“That was fast,” I say.
“It's my father.”
“Same thing.”
Xavier answers.
Senior doesn't bother with hello.
“Put Pierre on.”
“No.”
“What did he do?”
“I haven't verified it.”
“He solved it.”
“You don't know that.”