Page 5 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell

“Seriously?” she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Go with me,” I answered with a smirk. I began scribbling out the equation while explaining, “See that minus four? Think of itlike a Ticketmaster fee. To cancel it, we do the opposite and add four to the other side.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because math is fair. Whatever you do to one side, you must do to the other. So minus four and plus four together make zero. That’s when that scam fee disappears, and now you’re left with just3x.”

“Okay,” she seemed to be following.

“Now, we need thatxon its own. So, we divide by three to get it there,” I said while I showed her the three dividing on the other side. “That’s the whole point of algebra, stripping everything away until the answer is standing there by itself.”

She looked at the eleven we’d added four to, seeing it was fifteen. “So, three tickets are fifteen bucks.” She blinked. “And if we divide the three, then one ticket is five bucks?”

I tapped the page. “Exactly,x = 5. Algebra is just the world’s biggest Ticketmaster scam. You’re always undoing fees to see what’s real.”

She laughed. “Okay, that’s actually… brilliant.”

“Of course it is.”

“I still hate it, and it’s confusing.”

“Well, I’m sure Taylor Swift will keep you focused on your last ten problems.”

She popped in her AirPods and smiled, “Thanks, Dad. Hopefully, I can get the rest done without your help.”

“Any time, kiddo,” I said, standing up and kissing her on her head. “Finish up, and then it’s lights out.”

I strode out of the room and saw Avery across the hall, sitting at her desk with a cup of tea, obviously rattled about something.

“Is everything okay?” She nodded before I could even finish asking the question. “Okay, I’m going to check on Izzy, she’s done with homework and in her bedroom. I’ll be right in there to hold my lover,” I smiled at her.

“Yeah, thanks, babe,” she said. “It’s just stupid bullshit. I’ll explain it when you get back, and I’ll tuck in the kids after this is out of my way.”

“I’ll be back in a flash,” I said, walking toward the staircase that led to the girls’ bedrooms on the second floor. Downstairs was where we kept the library, study, and offices—our designated workspaces for the girls, so homework stayed out of their rooms and in a shared area. That was my rule. Bedrooms were for sanctuary, for escape, not for all the shit that had to be done at a desk or computer.

I smiled when I walked in and saw Izzy quickly pull her hand behind her back, most likely hiding a cookie she snuck from the cookie jar while everyone was distracted.

“I see homework is done, and you’re finishing the last of…what show is this?”

“Dad, shh. Blair’s about to ruin Serena’s life again.”

“I don’t know if I should be worried you know that sentence or that you snuck one of my cookies and are hiding it from me?”

Her cheeks flushed, and her dimples popped with her bashful smile, “You want the other?”

“It’s the only way you’re getting to keep the one you’re eating, so, yeah, hand it over, kid.”

I took the cookie, sat on the side of her bed, and frowned at the dramatics of the show our nine-year-old somehow got into. “Why are you even watching this?” I questioned, taking a bite of my chocolate chip cookie.

“Mom and Addy watch it all the time. We call it girls’ night when you’re gone. I’m not allowed to watch it without them, though,” she cringed, and I laughed.

“You are quite the sneaky little rebel tonight,” I ruffled her hair. “What’s it about? Boy crushes?”

“Dad,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, it just looks a bit boring to me,” I said.

“That’s because you don’t know what real TV is.”