Taylor slides into the van after her night band rehearsal. "Dad still at work?"
I nod as Xiang hops into the middle row.
"He might as well put a bed in his office," she says dryly.
I guess she didn’t notice how much he worked during the school year, or it hadn’t bothered her. But he’s been sixty to seventy hours per week since Mom’s funeral.
He acts like a regular employee at the engineering firm, but it’s his family’s enterprise. His role expanded a few years ago after my grandparents moved to California. We were used to things getting hectic for him occasionally, but the hectic schedule has become his permanent one.
It’s the worst timing.
"Can we do a drive-thru?" Taylor asks.
"You’re going to turn into a pile of lard and whatever other garbage they put in that stuff."
Taylor h
