Thomys' girls giggled at the crass rebuttal to their precisely metered father's pragmatic business approach to the issues. Even Abigail turned away from him slightly, to scratch an imaginary something from her eye, as she pretended not to smile.
Thomys' youngest, fourteen year old, Neola, must have thought no one could hear anything she said as the youngest person at the table full of adults. She said quietly, but not quietly enough around her water glass, "I wish my school had a window."
Persephone took the fuel the girl had added to the fire and sarcastically slammed into Thomys, "And how much do you pay every year for Neola's school?"
Thomys scowled playfully down the table, past his wife and two giggling oldest daughters, to his now sheepishly smiling youngest, "Apparently not eno
