“We know, Dad,” Kingsley said. “But it’d be nice to see you for more than a few minutes at a time. Are you going to come to Christmas Eve at Grandma’s house?”
“Honestly, buddy . . .” He glanced at the hopeful faces before him. “I’m busy that night with my campaign—there’s this big gala and then the debate with my opponent, Farah.” He swallowed, holding in volumes of unspoken emotion. “I think it’s for the best that you and your sister will be with the rest of your family for Christmas this year. I’m not as much fun and I have a lot of important work things going on right now. But hopefully things will be better next year.”
Kingsley hung his head a bit. “Yeah, okay, Dad.”
Jay patted his son again, this time with less heart.
“Jay.” Eddie joined the group, to-go cup in each hand.
“Eddie,
