“Son,” my father says, poking his head into the room and then spotting my mother. He smiles at her and kisses her. “You can’t be here.” “I can be here,” Evan says. “One, I own the house, and two, she’s here.” He points at me. “And where she is, so am I.” “Well, I can’t argue with that logic,” my father says, and Matthew just nods.
