"Good Morning!"

I stick my head under my pillow and glance at my father standing in my doorway out of the corner of my eye.

"You're still here?!"

He pretend pouts. "You're not happy to see me? No omelets for you!" He ducks into the small hallway.

"No fair!" I say, "This is blackmail." I do not want to get up, but the lure of a Neal Caffrey omelet is too much. I swear to god if he hadn't decided to go con, he could've run a very successful restaurant.

I drag myself out of bed and plop myself in the chair across from Mom, who's sitting drinking coffee. Dad is at the stove, making omelets. The illusion of a real family is so complete I'm almost fooled. But looking at the photos across the room wakes me from my daydream. There are photos of me, photos of me and Mom, and even one photo with Dad in it, but there is no family portrait. No smiling threesome wearing stupid sweaters knitted by Grandma.

What a cheery way to start a Sunday. I just have the best way of waking up, and then completely killing the rest of the day.

"Is the thing at Aunt El's still on today?"

"Mmhmm," says Mom, not really paying attention "Neal, did you steal June's coffee again, because this is not what I had yesterday."

He smiles at her "Guilty as charged."

"So who's going?" I ask.

"Where?"

"To the Burke's tonight! Do you ever pay attention to what I say!"

She ignores the last comment. "I think Mozzie is coming."

Dad slides an omelet onto a plate. Placing it in front of me with a bow, he says "Breakfast is served."