On the other hand, it was safe to assume that anything Charles had to say would be neither lengthy nor involved enough to be a real threat to whatever culinary monstrosity was currently suffering its last minutes in the oven.
After the room fell into a few seconds of loaded silence, it didn't take effort to read between the lines in what Bethany continued to say. He briefly wondered if she was aware that opinionating how he didn't see his children enough, while at the same time deciding they were better off without him there - and for all he knew, telling them so behind his back, was a very nonsensical strategy. The irony of it was that if she had truly believed what she said was the best for everyone, and stood by him to present a united front rather than instantly side with them in even the trivial issues, he would have at least acknowledged her argument. However, it had long since become apparent to him that such rationality didn't often factor into her behavior.
He didn't bother to ask whether Emily had got the birthday present he'd left for her. There was no need, as he'd ensured she had, and Bethany didn't seem to be in much of a sharing mood anyway. Fine with him, since usually it was getting her to stop clucking in his ear that was the problem. What he did, instead, was finally glance back to his laptop and lean forward in his chair once more. Clearly, he was resuming his work and thus dismissing her, when she could return to murdering food.
"Yes," he affirmed without looking up again. "Stop looking so miserable. You're bringing down the mood of the whole house."