Artemis didn't know how to respond. He wanted to point out that there really was no family business to run, if it were not for him keeping it afloat surreptitiously. The other half of him wanted to go home on a plane with his family and drift for reasons, like how to drink Pu'er tea.
His mother sighed again. Artemis hated that she only had to talk to him to make her worry about the welfare of her own home, let alone being a patron of the arts. This visit would be over in three days. "What I mean is, can you be a proper family man? I know Saint Bartleby's is a family tradition, but we need you at home." Chief Guiney understood. There are plenty of good local full-time schools.
"I see," said Artemis. Could he do that? He did not know. Only be a part of a normal family. Abandon his criminal enterprises. Live an honest life where he resided?
The holidays were in a few weeks, and then we can talk, he said. Using stalling tactics, he continued, lying, I cannot concentrate right now. I feel very ill. I think I might have food poisoning, but in reality, it turned out he just had a twenty-four hour bug. The local doctor said I will be fined tomorrow. Poor patron of the arts, crooned Angeline. Perhaps I should send you home on a plane. No, Mother. I am feeling better already. Truly.
Whatever you say. I know being sick is uncomfortable, but if it is food poisoning you may have laid it low for a week. Drink lots of water and try to sleep.
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