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'Tim?'
'Henderson showed me his latest mathematics brainstorm. It appears your son has decided that we can't be relied on to organise ourselves into marriage so he's done it for us. He drew up a very complicated timetable incorporating my published schedule with yours, his and Tamara's, and put it all through the school's computer as a maths project. Just to make it more difficult, he included future projections to allow for family increase, Juilliard study for him, Tamara's 'jazzercising' her way into her own studio, and—I sense a slight criticism here— the possibility of me requiring more free time for composition. The spread sheets are flawless…our whole lives mapped out, complicated as hell but clear as crystal. Somehow I don't think that anyone on the staff is going to be the least surprised by any announcement we make.'
'Oh, David!' Clare didn't know whether to be proud or embarrassed. No wonder she had been getting sideways grins lately!
'Mmm, and that wasn't the best of it.'
'No?' She loved that soft, musical amusement.
'No.' Her Russian bear bristled with mischief. 'The marks were prophetic, too: A for achievement, A for effort and, of course…' his voice was a husky, gloating growl of triumph, 'A for accuracy!'
