39. His father's son. [Part 2]
I watch Summer as she puts the dulce de leche muffins into Tupperware jars, the ones she’s been baking while Dad and I video chat on Zoom. "Son, are you paying attention to me?" "Mmm?" I shake my head and return my focus to my father, who’s looking at me with an amused glint in his eyes. "Have you been listening to me, or has your attention been on Summer the whole time?" He can’t see her; the camera’s only pointed at me, and she’s in the kitchen, on the opposite side of the field of view my phone allows. But of course, it’s no surprise that my dad knows she’s the one distracting me, because honestly, there’s nothing else that could steal my attention. Even when we were just friends, she was the only one who could pull me away from work. "Sorry, Dad," a chuckle slips from me when Summ
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