Chapter 598: Epilogue (25)
Nora Ainsworth smiled too. “With most kids, we’d have to be more subtle, but since you two understand, your mom and I don’t need to hold back.”
Elmer Grant chuckled and grinned. “Mommy, Daddy, as long as you’re here, I’m happy.”
“That’s the spirit.”
After dinner, the two brothers started on their homework together while the couple sat on the sofa and watched TV.
The family of four was quietly enjoying their cozy life together.
However, Dylan Grant finished his homework quickly, but it was a different story for Elmer Grant. He struggled in school and couldn’t do any of his assignments.
Seeing him sitting at the table, glancing this way and that, Nora Ainsworth asked, “Elmer, what’s wrong? Can’t you do your homework?”
Elmer Grant nodded. “Mommy, I think it’s too hard.”
Nora Ainsworth walked over. “What’s so hard about it? Let Mommy see.”
She walked over and took a look. “This isn’t hard,” Nora Ainsworth said. “You just have to make new words from this one, and then use them to make a sentence, right?”
Elmer Grant nodded.
“Alright, tell Mommy. What words can you make with ‘chicken’?”
Elmer Grant thought for a moment, then answered, “Hen.”
Nora Ainsworth looked at him. “Anymore?”
“Chicken head.”
“Uh-huh, not bad. Think of any others?”
“Chicken meat. Do chicken feathers count?”
Nora Ainsworth nodded. “They count. Now, how do you think you can put all those words together into one sentence that makes sense?”
“Umm… A hen, shaking its chicken head, dragging its meaty body, ruffling its feathery coat, and speaking in some kind of chicken language I can’t understand…”
“HAHAHAHA.” Quentin Grant was the first to burst out laughing.
Nora Ainsworth stared helplessly at the ceiling. ‘Is this son of mine’s brain full of crap?’
“It… barely passes. Alright, the language arts problem is solved. Is there anything else you’re stuck on?”
“Yes, there’s still math.”
“Okay, take out your workbook and let Mommy see.”
Elmer Grant took it out and pointed to a subtraction problem. “This one. I can’t do it.”
Nora Ainsworth glanced at it. “Oh, this is easy to solve. Look, let’s say Mommy tells you to herd 17 sheep, but you lose 11 of them. How many are left? That’s just 17 minus 11, which gives you the number you have left.”
Elmer Grant propped his chin on his hand. “In that case, can I just herd one sheep? That way I won’t lose any.”
“…”
“We’re doing a math problem, not actually herding sheep,” Nora Ainsworth corrected him. “Now, count on your fingers. What’s seventeen minus eleven?”
“I can’t figure it out.”
Nora Ainsworth sat down. “Okay, how about this? Let’s say you’re 17 years old today. If you take away 11 of those years, how old are you?”
“Six years old.”
“So… 17 minus 11 equals?”
“Six.”
“There you go. Write it down.”
“But, Mommy, I have a question.”
“Hmm?” Nora Ainsworth said with a beaming smile. “It’s always good to ask when you don’t understand. That’s what makes you a good boy. What’s your question?”
“If I’m 17 today, does that mean I’ll be 18 tomorrow?”
“Mommy said ‘let’s say’… ‘let’s say’…”
“I get it.”
Nora Ainsworth turned and walked back to the sofa. “Honey, I’m going up to bed.”
“Okay, I’ll come up with you.” Quentin Grant took her hand, then called over to the two boys doing their homework, “Make sure you two head straight up to bed when you’re finished, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good night, Daddy.”
Just as the boys finished their homework and were about to head upstairs, the phone rang. Dylan Grant answered and was surprised to see it was a call from Fatty.
“What’s wrong, Fatty?”
“Dylan, my parents are fighting again.”
“Don’t panic. Elmer and I are coming over right now.”
After hanging up, the two brothers ran to Fatty’s house. The moment they walked in the door, they could hear the sounds of a violent fight coming from his parents’ bedroom.
They went into Fatty’s room and found him sitting on the edge of his bed, crying silently.
“Fatty?”
“Dylan, it hadn’t even been a few good days, and my mom and dad started fighting again.” Just as he finished speaking, the door burst open and Fatty’s mother stormed in. She pointed at Fatty and roared, “I gave birth to him, so I’ll hit him if I want to! He’s my son, and I’ll hit him however I please!”
Fatty’s dad snorted. “Go on, hit him then!”
Fatty’s mother strode forward and slapped Fatty hard across the face twice, making him cry and cover his cheeks.
“He’s my son too, so I can hit him however I want! You wanted to hit him, right? Let’s see who can do it better!” Incredibly, Fatty’s father also slapped him twice, leaving the boy dizzy.
“What are you doing!” Dylan Grant yelled, his voice filled with indignation. But even though he spoke with great seriousness, he was still just a child, and his words carried no real authority.
Fatty’s mother looked at him. “Who are you? It’s the middle of the night, why aren’t you home? Aren’t your parents looking for you?”
“If you’re going to argue and fight, can’t you do it in your own room? Why are you hitting Fatty! Is this how you treat your own son?!”
Fatty’s father seemed to calm down. With an embarrassed look, he walked out the front door.
Fatty’s mother yelled at his retreating back, “Where are you going!”
No one answered her.
Then, without another thought for Fatty, she ran out to chase after his father.
“Dylan, can… can I sleep over at your place tonight…?”
Dylan and Elmer both nodded. The three children turned off the light, left the house, and went back to the Grants’ home together.
「At six o’clock, Mrs. Lynch returned home as expected.」
Finding that Mr. Lynch wasn’t home, Mrs. Lynch felt somewhat relieved.
“Your father isn’t back yet?”
Leon Lynch grunted in affirmation.
“He’s been out for so long. I wonder what he’s doing.”
As she was saying this, Mrs. Lynch went to her room to take a shower. She had just changed her clothes and come out when Mr. Lynch returned.
“Where have you been?”
Mr. Lynch answered curtly, “I had something to do.”
“What was it?”
Mr. Lynch frowned. “You never tell me anything you’re doing. Why should I have to report my every move to you?”
Mrs. Lynch looked embarrassed. “I was just asking.”
Mr. Lynch shot her a glance and went straight to their room.
Mrs. Lynch turned and followed him inside. She saw him lying on the bed, looking at his phone. She tried to lean over for a peek, but Mr. Lynch quickly moved the phone out of her sight, thwarting her attempt.
Then, Mr. Lynch placed his phone on the table and went to take a shower. The moment he was in the bathroom, Mrs. Lynch picked up the phone. She tried to unlock it, only to find it was protected by a password.
She frowned and put the phone back down.
Mr. Lynch came out of the bathroom and changed into his pajamas.
“I’m going out of town tomorrow to clear my head.”
“Where to?”
“To Lumeria for a week-long trip.”
“Can I go?”
Mr. Lynch nodded. “If you want to. I’m going with a tour group anyway.”
Hearing this, Mrs. Lynch relaxed. “In that case, I’ll pass. Since you want to get away for a bit, you should go. But I don’t have any cash here, so you’ll have to leave me some money.”
“Of course I’ll leave you some.”
“What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Six in the morning.”
“In that case, honey, why don’t you just stay in a hotel near the airport tonight? That way you won’t be rushed in the morning.”