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“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Very well. And you?”
“Good. I was wond—”
“Those darling children?”
“Great. I was wondering if—”
“Harrison?”
“Fine. Busy with his book.”
“Such an awesome talent.”
“Yes. Is my father around?” I managed to get out before she could interrupt me again.
“He is, dear, but he’s a little busy at the moment.”
“I need to talk to him about something. Do you think I could drop over in, say, an hour or so?”
There was a moment of hesitation. “Is there a problem?”
“No. No problem. I just need to talk to him. It won’t take long.”
“Can you give me some idea what this is about?”
“It’s really none of your concern,” I told her, bristling at the need to justify my wanting to visit my own father.
“Of course,” she said quickly, perhaps aware she’d overstepped. “I was just trying to make things easier for everyone.”
“Not your job,” I said. “See you in an hour.”
I hung up before she could object.
