Claire would be lying if she said that she didn't think about her mom. In fact, not a single day went by that she didn't wonder how she was doing. She missed her, terribly at times. Heck, she even missed Lyle. However, having her dad here helped far more than she could express. These nights, when it was just the two of them, eating dinner and watching old movies and catching up on new things in each others lives, they helped a lot too.
Smiling at the mention of Priestly, Claire pondered how to respond. Things with Priestly were going good, of course, but just saying that seemed reminiscent of her teenage years. When she hadn't felt as though she could be completely honest with her dad and he definitely hadn't felt he could be honest with her. She had promised herself that those days were behind her, that she wouldn't shut him out or offer him such little information that he would feel the need to find out more for himself. So she wanted to answer with more than a simple 'fine'.
Taking a sip of her chocolate milk, she considered just what to say that was more than a mere one-word answer. Then her dad spoke again all thoughts of Priestly abruptly flew out the window. Her chocolate milk, meanwhile, got caught in her throat and she immediately began coughing.
Hacking, really, was more like it, as the liquid did its best to work its way into her lungs. Her eyes watered a bit as she coughed deeply. After a few seconds, either she managed to cough most of it out of the 'wrong pipe' or her ability did it for her. Whatever the case, she could once again breathe in much-needed air and did so. One lungful. Then two. Finally, after a third, she rasped out a somewhat husky sounding, "Death by chocolate milk. I think that would have been a new one."
Then, wiping her mouth with her napkin, she re-focused her attention fully on her dad. "And you're doing what with who?!?"
Okay. She probably could have said that without sounding quite so shocked but, well, that's exactly how she felt.