At the edges of the screaming match, Jeff’s mom circles, head turning back and forth, as if watching a tennis match, pleading. ‘Bob, stop, let’s...go home, honey, please. Jeff don’t! Stop! He’s your father’ Back and forth. The old man had sat in his beloved car, (all his dad’s cars are beloved, since most of his life has been spent not owning one). Spittle and invectives fly from his father’s mouth in equivalent amounts. One soils Jeff’s face, the other his soul. In typical Hunter fashion, that. "Suri gestured Steve to be seated again, and sat down as well. "If you mean that this family does not welcome the fact that I am part of it, and that I in turn wish to live elsewhere, then yes, there is a problem. If you can help us, or rather me, then I would be most grateful. Ahmed is a kind man, and tries his best to protect me, but it is unpleasant for all concerned. In exchange for a new home, I would be willing to serve you in any way you and your family found appropriate."Steve. More

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