Matthew Thompson sat in his private room in front of a roaring fire. It was just another day, and he was ending it in comfort.

He should have been a happy man, quietly enjoying the fruits of his labors. But how could he when his children had all but abandoned him? Well, his sons at least; his daughter sat on a couch a few feet away from him, her feet tucked neatly under the chair. She was too busy with her phone to notice him and had been since they’d sat down to eat dinner.

As the last of his children still living with him, she could at the very least have been keeping him company, he noted sourly. And he didn’t just mean her sitting there and doing her thing as he stared into the roaring fire, bored out of his mind. Why couldn’t people have conversations anymore? Why did people only want to talk through a screen now?

He flicked a glance at his own phone, screen down just at his fingertips. He was so bored he couldn’t even read.

He missed his children, the sound of laughter filling the air, the secret whispers as they plotted some mischief only children could get up to. He missed how when they were younger, they’d run up to him every time he came home, welcoming him with open arms. When was the last time that even happened?

Matthew was willing to settle for having them all in the same area.

After several more minutes passed and Emily didn’t so much as look up, he sighed and called out to his daughter.

“Emily?”

“Hmm?” Her slim fingers flew over her phone’s screen as she typed something out. She was the perfect blend of both him and his wife—a daughter a man could be proud of, if only she’d pay attention.

Matthew let out his heaviest sigh yet.

“Would you at least look up at your old man? I’m starting to feel a little jealous of your phone, here.”

Her fingers slowed as she glanced up, but they didn’t stop. He didn’t even feel like sighing anymore.

“Do you need something, Dad?”

He rolled his eyes. “What I need is for you to sit up, put your phone down for a minute, and listen to your father. What happened to you, Emily? You used to be Daddy’s little girl, and these days it’s like you rarely have time to talk to me.”

She flushed a little, her hands finally pausing on her phone. She looked down at it for a few seconds before turning off the screen and putting it to one side.

“All right,” she said, sitting upright, back straight, and hands placed demurely on her knees. “Although, Dad, it has been quite a few years since I was your ‘little girl,’ you know?” She arched a delicate eyebrow, bright eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief.

Matthew rolled his eyes. He could do that same eyebrow trick, his were just a bit grayer than hers.

“Anyway, what did you want to talk about?” At least she’d put the phone down now.

Matthew smiled, his tall frame and lined face so like his sons and his daughter. “I want you to help me plot how to get your brothers back here.”

Her hands twitched on her knees in surprise. She flipped some blonde strands of hair that had fallen over her shoulder and blinked at him. That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, but the one he’d counted on getting.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“I want my sons back, Emily. They might not have as much time for me, just like you, but can you even remember the last time they visited?”

She opened her mouth but paused because there was nothing she could say. It was true. The sons of the Thompson household hadn't been back for quite a while. During the holidays they tried to all meet up, but it wasn’t in their family home where they’d all grown up.

“Can you manage it, though?” she said after a minute, frowning. “I mean, they’re all busy doing who knows what wherever they are—”

“You don’t know where they are?”

She looked offended. “Dad. I could tell you where Trent is. But the other two tend to move around a lot, so you’re on your own there.”

Matthew nodded. It was all he needed. Trent would have to be the first he called home because he was the most stable, the most put together. He would be easier to invite, though for many reasons he would be the hardest to get to stick around.

“Fine,” he said, thumping his hand down on a knee. “Call him up. Give him whatever excuse, but I want to see him back here.”

Emily flinched. “Dad! I never said I’d help you! I don’t want any part of this scheme or whatever it is you’re cooking up!”

Matthew chuckled. “You mean what we are cooking up,” he corrected, ignoring her refusal. “Don’t you want to help your aging father? Don’t be so difficult, Emily. Help an old man out.”

It didn’t take much pleading to get her to cave. Even though she had grown, she was still his little girl in a lot of ways, and she loved to make her father happy. His daughter had always been such a warm, loving person, so as long as he hinted that he was unhappy, she would do something to change it.

He considered himself very lucky to have had her. She was the second most important woman in his heart after he’d lost his first wife.

“As much as I love traveling to meet up with your brothers, don’t you think it would be best they come here?” he needled. “Once they’re all home, I can just relax my old bones, and they would be the ones to come to me for a change. Please, Emily.”

Of course, Matthew wasn’t as old and tired as he was trying to make himself out to be. He was getting on in years, but he still considered himself young and spry. He wasn’t even in his sixties yet, and he was retired. But there was no reason to inform her of that just yet.

She was buying his ploy, and as much as a part of him felt bad that he was practically tricking his daughter, he was glad she was willing to help him out in this.

Matthew knew he would need it.

“Fine,” Emily said with a sigh like he’d known she would. “I’ll help. But if it doesn’t go the way you plan, you’ll be on your own, Dad.”

Matthew just smiled, looking forward to having all his children together with him again. Finally.