Emily sat in one of her dad's oversized shirts, painting her toenails when her phone buzzed. She set the brush down and peered down at the small device. It was Mike.

She smiled as she replied to him, and then stood to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in an easy chair in her living room, looking tired and more than a little irritated.

"So what's the matter?" she asked.

"Is your dad here?" he asked, ignoring her question.

She shook her head. "He's still at work."

Mike nodded and seemed to relax. "I just wanna talk about personal stuff."

She smiled at him and nodded. "I'm here...