A few hours later and with math terms floating alongside legal ones in the head, John headed down to dinner. His father could not stand lack of punctuality, and he insisted on family dinner every evening at 7:15. Of course, every evening only meant when there wasn't a meeting, event, or other incredibly important senator-related thing Sen. Laurens just had to show his face at. Then it was up to John to keep the habit, so Mary, Henry, James, and Martha had some form of stability in their lives. He has his mother for much longer than they had.

So John had made it his business to be a father to each one of his siblings. He had seen Mary through nickname changes, homework, projects, and how to use a laptop. He had seen the twins through three different sports, a brief stage of dancing, and many injuries. He had seen Martha through weekly library trips, ballet, which had then changed to contemporary, and all her art projects. He was their Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, head chef, and nurse. Today being Wednesday, it was a take-out night, so his father ordered food.

John had brought up that idea, and then wrote down what Mary, Henry, James, and Martha would each eat from each of their local restaurants, and who wouldn't eat from where. And the allergy notes. Because god forbid a father remember that one of his daughters has a peanut allergy. Or that James' system doesn't do so well with copious amounts of dairy. The man could remember his opponents and supports' details to a 'T,' but his own family seemed to be too much to ask.

He smelled buffalo sauce, so he knew it must be Chili's, because they always got an order of buffalo-sauce covered chicken tenders. Everyone in the family loved those, except Mary, who was going through a vegetarian phase.

There were eight chairs around their dinner table, and obviously Sen. Laurens sat at the head. John and the twins sat on his left, Mary and Martha to his right, both sides seated oldest to youngest. John gazed around the dining room and saw that the twins were missing. They better have come home or I swear…

He turned towards the stairwell and yelled, "Henry! James!" By the thundering of footsteps John heard echoing from the second floor, they were home. He took his seat and Henry sat next to him. James slid into his chair and laughed at something had said, by the grin on his face.

Mary and Martha were already seated and helping themselves to food. Sen. Laurens glared at Mary Eleanor for going to take a bite of one of her quesadillas. "We pray first, you know that."

They all clasped hands. "Our Father," the senator began. His children dutifully picked up the rest of the prayer, "Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name." John had said it so many ties that he no remembered it. His mouth moved on autopilot and his brain wandered.

Martha's birthday is coming up in a few weeks. That means the anniversary is also coming up.

"Amen."

John looked at his youngest sibling as she, like his other three, started to eat. He had known their mother for nearly ten years. Mary Eleanor has known her for five years, the twins for three, and Martha has never even seen her mother alive.

Their mother died during childbirth, and when Martha was born still alive, it considered a miracle. But John considered the true miracle to be the different days. Martha was born so early in the morning, and Eleanor Laurens died so late in the night, John made sure that Martha never felt guilty about it.

As he slowly took a bite of his burger, he knew his father wouldn't realize either of the two events next week. He would ignore celebrations for both his daughter and deceased wife within a span of less than 24 hours.

He slowly ate his burger while his father engaged each child in boring small talk. He talked to Mary about how long her hair was getting when she actually wanted a pixie cut, asked Henry and James about soccer when they haven't played in three years and have since moved on to basketball. He turned to Martha and asked about her friend Sami, who moved away a year ago. She nodded absentmindedly and said that Sami was fine.

As John took a bite of his fry, his father turned back to him. "John, my son. How are your classes?"

"Bit tricky."

"Well if you study hard, you'll succeed." Bullshit. "It's mind strength that's important. But you're still doing sports, right?" Never.

"You know it."

"I'm glad. You've got to keep up your image." I can keep up my image just fine. But whatever you say, father dearest. John just nodded, instead of vocalizing his sarcastic train of thought.

Fifteen minutes later, after all the children had long ago finished eating and Sen. Laurens was just finishing, their father stood up and said, "You are all excused." He left his plate and no one asked questions. Because that's what a proper parent should do. Of course. John had to repress the urge to roll his eyes. After their father had fully exited the dining room, the five children stood up. Henry Jr. and James collected plates, silverware, and glasses and brought them into the kitchen, Martha collected the napkins and threw them out, leaving Mary to load the dishwasher, and John would unload it later.

This was how the Laurens family worked, and later, when John was doing his 'rounds,' making sure that Martha, Henry, and James were in bed, lights out, he couldn't help but think that it shouldn't be this war. Later, when he brought two dollars into Martha's room from the Tooth Fairy, he recalled how he had done the same with the twins, but Henry would always try to stay up, so he would always have to wait an extra-long amount of time. Mary's light was already off when John went to tell her she had fifteen minutes before bed. She's probably on her phone, but I'll let her be. She knows to get enough sleep. John grabbed his Pre-Calc textbook and went back to studying.