By the time Zeke Jones got home, Thanksgiving was already over. Unlike what I usually did, I didn't head out to the front yard to welcome him home. "Where are you?" the text from Zeke read.I munched on my lunch and replied with a brief message that said, "Having lunch at home."A short while later, he entered the house with his suitcase in tow. "I'm hungry. Do me a favor and make me some grain bowl with a sunny side up egg," he instructed as he changed into a pair of house slippers.On any other day, I would've instantly made my way toward the kitchen and cooked for him. This time, however, I only responded emotionlessly, "I'm already done with my lunch. You can go ahead and order something in."Zeke shot me a dissatisfied glance. Then, he suppressed his anger and said, "I know you're still mad about Thanksgiving, but I'm actually starving. Now's not the time for you to be kicking up a fuss."I turned around and smiled at him. "I'm not mad."He didn't believe me. "Scarle
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