Chapter 4
At dinner, Mrs. Granger purposely seated Mr. Granger and Harry next to each other out on the patio where they were going to eat. When they sat down, Harry gave a nervous smile that remained unrequited.
For his wife sake, Mr. Granger didn't speak while the meal was being eaten. Harry seemed happy enough though, laughing and chatting spiritedly as he held Simon in the crook of his arm, feeding him his bottle.
"He sure eats, doesn't he?" commented David with a smirk. He turned to his wife. "Julia didn't eat that much did she?"
"Well," Rachael answered. "Julia is a girl. Men are always pigs." A Harry and David pretended to look hurt, she said. "Am I right?" to Hermione and Mrs. Granger, who laughed.
Mr. Granger rolled his eyes and tried to look dignified, as though this idle conversation was beneath his high-horsed notice. Harry and David might have been pigs, but Stanley M. Granger DDS was dignified.
Hermione, being across from Harry, reached over to grasp her husband's hand and smile at him. He smiled back. It was so obvious that they loved each other, but that still wasn't good enough for Mr. Granger.
He glared and his wife shot him a warning look that snapped 'don't you dare'. He heaved a deep breath. Mr. Granger couldn't help it.
Over dessert, the family discussed another touchy subject. Hermione's labor.
"Oh, I had it really easy. I was only in labor with him about two hours." She had moved to sit on Harry's other side. He had his strong arm draped around her shoulders. "He was pretty easy."
"Oh, I hate you!" Rachael joked, falsely hitting Hermione on the arm. "Julia was so much longer than that!"
Mr. Granger felt as though he were about to implode. "I beg your pardon, but I must go. I have work to do." He got up from the table and crossed the patio.
When he reached the screen door, he looked back at his wife, but instead glimpsed his daughter. He face had fallen; she looked so disappointed. It was all his fault. His fault. Something that *nothing* had been his entire life. HIS fault.
At dinner, Mrs. Granger purposely seated Mr. Granger and Harry next to each other out on the patio where they were going to eat. When they sat down, Harry gave a nervous smile that remained unrequited.
For his wife sake, Mr. Granger didn't speak while the meal was being eaten. Harry seemed happy enough though, laughing and chatting spiritedly as he held Simon in the crook of his arm, feeding him his bottle.
"He sure eats, doesn't he?" commented David with a smirk. He turned to his wife. "Julia didn't eat that much did she?"
"Well," Rachael answered. "Julia is a girl. Men are always pigs." A Harry and David pretended to look hurt, she said. "Am I right?" to Hermione and Mrs. Granger, who laughed.
Mr. Granger rolled his eyes and tried to look dignified, as though this idle conversation was beneath his high-horsed notice. Harry and David might have been pigs, but Stanley M. Granger DDS was dignified.
Hermione, being across from Harry, reached over to grasp her husband's hand and smile at him. He smiled back. It was so obvious that they loved each other, but that still wasn't good enough for Mr. Granger.
He glared and his wife shot him a warning look that snapped 'don't you dare'. He heaved a deep breath. Mr. Granger couldn't help it.
Over dessert, the family discussed another touchy subject. Hermione's labor.
"Oh, I had it really easy. I was only in labor with him about two hours." She had moved to sit on Harry's other side. He had his strong arm draped around her shoulders. "He was pretty easy."
"Oh, I hate you!" Rachael joked, falsely hitting Hermione on the arm. "Julia was so much longer than that!"
Mr. Granger felt as though he were about to implode. "I beg your pardon, but I must go. I have work to do." He got up from the table and crossed the patio.
When he reached the screen door, he looked back at his wife, but instead glimpsed his daughter. He face had fallen; she looked so disappointed. It was all his fault. His fault. Something that *nothing* had been his entire life. HIS fault.