Page 100 of Grin and Bear It

“No homework, just assignments,” Knox sighed, leaning back into his seat and looking out the window.

“Well, you’re in luck. Miss Jennings volunteered to come over and help today.”

Cole had sent that message over early this morning and I hoped it was still true. Ellie in my house, in my kitchen, at my table helping my boys… There was something about the domesticity of that which made my bear happy.

But not the boys.

Both of them went perfectly quiet in response to that, not saying a word, and the engine idled as I waited them out. I wasn’t driving us anywhere, not until we had this out.

“Is there a problem?” Maddox shifted restlessly in his seat, looking at me, his brother and his bag in a constant loop of glances. “Because if you don’t want her help, then I need to let her know. There’s no point in her coming over—”

“No, I want her help.”

It’d taken Maddox awhile to speak up, but when he did, he did so with confidence.

“Knox?”

“I need her help too. This fucking English assignment…” Knox met my eyes then, looking slightly rueful.

“That’s alright, mate,” I told him. “I hated fucking English too when I was a kid. Math, however…”

“Can you help me with my maths assignment too?” Knox asked, and suddenly we were on safer ground. “Miss is useless at Maths. What?” Maddox and I looked at him meaningfully. “They were literally her words.”

“I’ll always help you with math, you know that,” I said, flicking on the indicator and pulling out into the street. “But first, what’s going on with Uncle Cole, boys?”

They didn’t really answer me. There was some some kind of mumbled nothing response, where they said a whole lot of words, but didn't really communicate anything. I just nodded, not pressing, not yet, but I changed direction heading towards the beach instead of home.

“I thought we had to go straight home and work on our assignments?” Knox asked as he watched the jetty flash past.

“We can play hooky just this once,” I said, easing into a park outside a place we’d gone too often when they were little kids.

“Ice cream?” both boys asked, their much deeper, more masculine voices transforming into something younger and boyish.

This had been our thing. I’d always brought them down here for an ice cream cone every time they stayed over at our place, letting their parents have an extended date night.

“Ice cream is brain food, right?” I asked with a smirk. “It’ll give you some energy, help you get through your homework?”

“Yeah! I mean, sure, yeah,” Knox said, trying to recover his cool.

“So double chocolate and double chocolate chip?” I asked, pointing to Knox and then Maddox.

“And you’re gonna eat snot ice cream again?” the boys cackled to themselves.

When they were young, there was a running joke that pistachio ice cream was snot flavoured. Philistines, all of them. I think Cole taught them that, and it’d become this thing each time we went to an ice cream parlour, the kids shouting over me that I wanted a double snot flavoured ice cream, much to the confusion of the shopkeeper.

“You know it,” I replied, getting out of the car.

“Hello, love,” an older woman said with a well-practised smile. “What can I get ya?”

“A double scoop of double choc,” I said. “Same of choc chip and a double of pistachio.”

“Snot ice cream…” Knox muttered under his breath, all innocence when I looked around, Maddox jabbing his brother in the ribs.

“Grabbing some ice cream after school?” the woman said, grabbing her scoop and dipping it into a bucket of hot water before going to work, filling each one of the cones in turn.

“They worked hard today,” I replied, then shrugged. “I figure they could do with a break before they start it all over again.”

“Homework, huh?” The woman smiled and then set Knox’s cone into the holder. “They’re good looking boys. Take after their dad,” she said with a wink.

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