We just got a letter

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   "Please don't put your elbows on the table, Emerson." The matured, soft-spoken woman asked kindly. Not taking her gaze off the morning paper she was reading while talking down to the little boy who showed no proper table manners. The small,(h/c) haired boy puffed as he readjusted his seating.

"Your breakfast is done, Emerson." Stated the young female in the back kitchen of the cozy living area that the family shared. Scooping some warmed up oats and berries into a wooden bowl she placed it down on top of a tray that already had juice, toast, and silverware prepared on it. The little boy quickly got up from his seat to retrieve the tray and made no wasted time in getting back to his seat and eating right away.

"Thank you once again for preparing breakfast for us today, (y/n)." The woman from before spoke, still not lifting her eyes from her daily news. "It was very thoughtful of you."

Walking up to the woman with a tray in hand the

The (h/c) haired girl gave her mother a kiss on the head while laying the food on the table. "Anytime, Mother." She finally was able to sit down herself and began eating the well-crafted breakfast she had made. A warm smile graced across her soft face, blood rushing to her cheeks as the warm food entered her mouth.

  Only after what seemed a few moments the small family heard grunting and humming coming up the stairs behind them. From the top of the stairs came chugging along, a broad, elderly man. His grey beard complimented his long face. His tired, rough skin showed that he had been hard at work upstairs and the three at the table were prepared to have him sweep the house clean of all food. "Good morning everyone!" Cheered the man.

"Morning father!" Smiled the young boy, "can we go fly the kites today? I got them fixed like you told me to."

The man laughed as he rubbed his son's hair around in a mess, walking past him and into the kitchen. "Possibly, my boy." He scooped up a generous amount of oats into his bowl, leaving little leftover. "I'll have to see how work treats me this morning." He finished preparing his plate and walked up behind his wife. Placing a kiss upon her head. "Good morning, my love. How's the news looking today?"

The woman sipped her tea and elegantly spoke. "It seems like nothing unusual today, my dear. Just more people talking about the summer coming to an end."

The man sat down at the table. Across from the young girl who had prepared the meal. "Well boring news is better than bad news I suppose." He rubbed his hands together and smiled as he looked up at the girl. "How about you? How's my beautiful daughter doing this morning?"

(Y/n) smiled back at her father as she swallowed the food in her mouth. "I'm doing fine, me and Martha might go shopping today."

The man nodded, "Now, who's Martha again?"

"Martha, one of my closest friends for the past four years?" The girl tried explaining, her father just remained confused. "She helped us move, come on dad."

Although the man still had no clue who she was talking about he nodded as if he did. Remembering friend's names weren't a father's strong suit. "Well, that's all wonderful! But I'm afraid work won't get itself done." With that, the man stood up and grabbed his food. "Jewelry sales are typically higher this coming time of year." He made his way to the stairs as he smiled back at his family one last time. "Enjoy your days." He chuckled towards the end as he made his way up the stairwell with grunts and old man noises.

With the man now out of the room, it began to grow quiet, only the sound of clinking silverware and pages turning filled the atmosphere. With this (y/n) cleared her throat to speak. "So, mother...." for the first time the whole morning the woman looked up from her paper and turned to face her daughter. "I was thinking, I had been saving up a lot this past summer and I thought maybe...." she grew anxious and fiddled her thumbs, looking out the window and into the town streets. "Maybe me and some friends could take a trip, you know, after summer ends. Instead of..." she gulped nervously, "going to the school of nursing and humanities."

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