"AUGH! I don't know, Penny!" My husband yells from the long kitchen table, hands slamming onto the surface. He stands, pacing the carpeted floor, hands tangled through his strands of hair.
Aaron stiffens beside his sister, face growing tight. He never likes it when his father yells.
Jameson takes a deep breath, turns, and sits back at the table, picking up the pencil he dropped.
"I apologize for my outburst, snuggle bug," My husband says gently, "Let's try this one again."
I return to my book, but am quickly interrupted by another shout, this time from Aaron.
"No, Dad! The number doesn't go there!" My son says. Jameson looks up, brow raised. Aaron shrinks back, collecting his quiet personality once again.
"Would you do the honors of showing us the way, son?" Jameson gives him a quick smile, sliding the sheet of math homework toward the boy. Aaron straightens, grabbing his father's pencil.
"You see, the number is brought down here," Aaron points to the problem, "If you move it here, then multiply these two numbers..." He goes silent as he solves the equation, "You'll end up with this number."
Jameson looks at the paper, over his shoulder at me, at his son, and back at me.
"You're a genius, Aaron!" Jameson laughs, looking back at his boy beaming in his seat. Penny grunts, folding her arms across her chest.
"Snuggle bug, don't be mad," My husband slides the paper in front of his daughter, handing her the pencil, "You can't be good at everything."
That makes Penny glare at her father. He smiles, encouragingly. "Please, continue, my love."
Aaron decides to help Penny, which makes her a big irritated, since he's younger than her and knows more than her, but she gets over it pretty quick. Jameson returns to my side, placing his hand on my thigh. I look up from my story, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table in front of me. I place my head on Jameson's shoulder, grabbing his hand.
"Aaron's birthday is next week," I whisper, "What should we do?"
"How old is he turning?" Jameson questions softly.
"Nine," I reply, staring straight ahead at my son, smiling softly. He's gotten so big. He's finally starting to bloom, started to crawl out of his shell.
"Wow, nine," Jameson breathes, "Time goes so fast, Heiress. So fast."
