Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I watched as he leaned in and kissed Hannah on the cheek. “She is,” I agreed with him, “but explain.”
“My teacher changed my grade to an A after Hannah made me write and tell him about the conversation she and I had over my paper.”
“We need more information,” Sam said from the driver’s seat.
“Tell me about this chat you had with your brother,” I asked my daughter.
“It was no big deal,” she began. “Coca-Cola and I were just talking, and I said that maybe, since it was an opinion paper, his teacher actually wanted him to take a stance, not just hear both sides. If the assignment was objective and not subjective, maybe he wanted to hear Kola’s passionate feelings on the subject of prison reform and not his whole PC stance.”
I turned my attention to my son.
“When I wrote, he said that I’d done the work that was assigned, which was the reason for the B, but that I hadn’t made my case. I’d made a case, just not mine. He said if I had more to say, I could send that along.”
“And after he read the new stuff, he changed your grade.”
He nodded.
“So your sister pointed out something you missed.”
“She did,” he conceded.
“What else did your teacher say?” I questioned my son.
“That he appreciated the fact that I hadn’t challenged my grade but had inquired about my grade in an adult manner. He liked that I had and went on to say that I was certainly fortunate to have a sister who cared enough to engage in constructive dialogue with me.”
I glanced at Hannah.
“That’s me, yo, constructive.”
“Don’t say yo,” Kola instructed her.
She tipped her head in agreement.
“Thank you.”
Her sigh was long and dramatic. “Can’t have you sulking, it throws off your whole vibe, and we’re taking on those jerks from Glencoe this weekend and the team needs you focused.”
“So dorky,” I pronounced as Sam nodded in agreement.
“Hey,” Kola grumbled at me. “Those guys went after Rob when he was playing on another team just to be jerks. We’re going to annihilate them.”
“You’re talking about a video game.”
“And?” Hannah asked, daring me to say any more.
“Which reminds me,” Kola said, leaning forward so he filled the screen. “Rob and Gen are coming home with me on Friday afternoon, and Aunt Aja said to call her.”
“What?” Sam pretended to be outraged. “I didn’t sign on for that.”
I chuckled, knowing what my sister-in-law, and more importantly, dearest friend, wanted. She wanted to make clear that there would be no takebacks. Her kids, Robert and Gentry, were mine until late Sunday night, so I had better keep them away from her house, where she and my brother would be lying around naked, just the two of them. Just like Kola, who was doing his sophomore year of college online, Robert had decided to do his first at MIT from home. Both Hannah and Gentry—Dane and Aja’s second-born—were about to graduate high school, which meant both families, me and Sam and Dane and Aja, had two kids at home. I was certain, in the coming fall, when Kola left for Stanford and Robert to MIT, and Hannah went wherever, that I would be envious that Dane and Aja’s youngest had another year with them. It was going to be so hard to say goodbye. When people said that time flew, it was true. Crazy to think that my babies were both adults. It was the same for Aja. We would both miss our kids terribly when they flew the coop. At the moment, however, Aja wanted to make sure she got her alone time with her husband. I texted her.
Yes. I will keep your children this weekend. If you’re lucky, I might even feed them.
A second later: You’re a nice man, no matter what Dane says.
It was followed by lots of hearts.
“Okay, we’ll see you guys when we get home,” Sam told his kids.
“Remember I’m off tomorrow because my teachers are having a faculty development day,” Hannah reminded us.
“Which means what exactly?” Sam wanted to know.
“Just never mind,” I told him.
“I pay a lot of money for that school.”
“Yes, Dad, we know,” Hannah said indulgently. “And I won’t be home until after twelve with the speeches these people like to give.”
“What is it a fundraiser for?” Sam asked her.
“Art and music programs for after-school care.”
“Okay, that actually sounds reasonable,” Sam said, giving her his seal of approval.
“I love you so much,” she assured him.
“That wasn’t condescending at all,” he apprised her.
She was cackling when I hung up.
Pulling into the large round driveway, I saw several cars, and immediately heard my husband growl.
“Stop.”
“He said dinner, just us.”
“I doubt it.”
Once he parked the car, he turned and looked at me. “What do you mean you doubt it?”
“He invited us to a dinner party,” I said, enunciating the two words.