“So what are you going to do about your visa issues? Retire?”
“I have a plan in progress actually,” I tell him. I sent everything in to Emily. I just need to go see Khalil once more and check on his progress getting me off the international shit-list of a woman who feels scorned.
There’s really not much more to say to Archer about my shit, so I pry, “what’s this family meeting about tonight?”
Archer aims the crumpled cookie bag for the trash and sinks the shot. He pumps his fist in the air and says, “Ah, Hunter got invited to, like, testify to congress or something about plants and climate change and outerspace shit. He wants to make sure Abigail has support while he’s gone for a few weeks.”
“Oh come on, like we’re not already taking care of Abigail.”
He shrugs. “I know. But have you met Hunter? He wants to make a chart. She’s starting physical therapy soon and it’s ramping up toward tax season and Ma is hosting investors…you know how it goes.”
I sigh. “Well, I’m not going anywhere any time soon,” I tell him. “He can just fill the whole chart with Fletcher.”