“Do you wanna watch another episode of Blaze?” I asked, ignoring Fisher.
“Yeah!!!!” That was all it took for them to scramble for their seats. I grabbed juice boxes from the outdoor fridge, and stuck the straw inside each one before handing it over.
“Put these headphones on,” Dash instructed, coming toward the porch from our bathroom door. “They should be synced. Test ’em out while we’re here.” He offered each dog a treat, quickly gaining their favor.
I motioned for them to a seat near the boys. In addition to the huge windows separating the kitchen from the back porch, Duke and Dixie were the best sitters. We’d know before any of the boys’ feet hit the ground, if they decided to leave the patio.
Who knew how long we had for serious talk time. It had to be fast.
“What’s going on, Dasham?” Amelia asked, handing out juice boxes to the girls, sitting around the table that doubled as a kitchen and dining room table, as well as a laundry folding station, and desk for homework.
“It’s funny when she calls Daddy Dasham,” Ava said. She had gone with a shaved sides haircut, making her hair look normal when it was down, but cool and edgy when it was up. She was drawn to the darker side of life, and deftly opened her own juice box by ramming the straw through the small opening.
“Little Miss Ava,” Amelia warned. “What have we talked about? You don’t need to say everything you think aloud.”
“Sorry,” Ava said, of course without an inkling of remorse.
Dash had to help Mia with her juice box—she was our scatterbrained child, only because she read emotion and energies in people, while always giving a kind hand. She was also our most normal child in her jean shorts and a tee. If a bug dared to invade our property, Mia swooped in on a rescue mission, happily lifting the insect to safety. She applied the same techniques to snakes and spiders too, which was a win for me as well. Too bad her strengths didn’t include inserting the plastic straw into the juice box without spilling it everywhere.
“What did they say, Paw?” Livie asked, exuding elegance in the same manner as a presidential first lady. Her hair was long, not a strand out of place. She sat naturally with her hands in her lap, her ankles crossed. “Do they want us to skip a grade again?”
“Sort of,” I said, taking the seat beside her. We waited to explain once Amelia joined us.
“Those boys are gonna be the death of me,” Amelia said, taking a seat next to Ava. “They have so much energy.”
The trio of girls had already skipped the first grade together. They were all smart. I expected other years and classes to be jumped over, but Livie had a rare next-level intelligence. When the school nudged us to pinpoint her brilliance, we spoke with her pediatrician who agreed to work with their elementary school to perform a series of IQ tests. Today’s meeting was the grand finale of everyone’s efforts.
I threw out a hand when Dash stayed quiet. He needed to lead this charge. I felt like the village idiot surrounded by all these excessively smart people. “As we all know, this is really about Livie, and all the meetings she went through this summer. We’ve agreed to have Ava and Mia tested in the same way.” Dash nodded. He did that a lot when trying to get the answer he wanted. “But today’s results are all about Liv.”
“We aren’t smart like Livie’s smart,” Mia said, reasonably.
“She’s not wrong,” Ava interjected.
“We’ll circle back to you two, but we have some big decisions to make before school begins in a couple of weeks,” I said, motioning Dash to take the reins again.
“Before your paw and I sign any papers, we want to hear from you. Specifically Livie.” Dash faced Livie. I put my arm on the back of her chair, sliding a reassuring hand up and down her back.
“Honey, you’re in a league of your own. Your IQ’s a whooping one hundred and sixty-nine. You’re exceptionally gifted.” Generally, Livie was selective in giving a smile, but that did it. She beamed at Dash, then turned the smile on me. Butterflies took flight inside my belly.
“I’m proud of you,” I said, returning the grin.
Her happy face turned to Abuela, then her sisters. Mia was already grinning brightly. “I told you that you’re smarter than everyone else,” Mia said, reaching a hand across the table, encouraging Livie into the hold. Of course she didn’t voluntarily take Mia’s hand, germs and all, but they shared a silent stare while grinning at each other.
The doorbell rang, drawing everyone’s attention in that direction. “That’s your counselor, Mrs. Pinkney. She’s here to answer the questions you have, Livie.”
I let her in, skipping the greeting formalities since Dash and I were the ones asking her over tonight and started this meeting without her.
We probably should’ve waited… I’d have to apologize later for the misstep.
“So, how far have you gotten?” she asked, laying a pad and paper on the table before her.
“Just gettin' to the good stuff,” I said. Dash and I had expected pushback from the girls. Livie, Mia, and Ava were a squad. They went most places together. How would they feel about being broken apart?
“We believe you should begin the new school year in junior high school,” Mrs. Pinkney said. “With many reassessments as we go. This will be new territory for us all.”
“Without Mia and Ava?” Livie asked. Her bright eyes turned worried. “What about my friends?”
“You don’t have friends,” Ava chirped, not mean-spirited, but as if only stating a fact. “Me and Mia have friends, and you tag along with us. You’re smarter than the teachers, and you follow all the rules. Nobody else likes that.”
