Smartystan

Braids lay in intricate fashion down Nalia Frampton’s back. Her mother twisted her fingers to make patterns on her daughter’s scalp and now she finished the young girl’s do.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Nalia looked into the mirror and saw the beauty of Dr. Frampton’s work.

“My pleasure, sweet one,” she said. Her daughter then got up and scampered out of the living room in the spacious mansion. Synths escorted Nalia to the outside tennis/basketball court. Carver Frampton came down the steps. He had just finished his designs for a new nuclear powered engine for automobiles. He stood at about six foot four and the complexion of an almond and had braids himself. It appeared as if the doctor was the only one in the family without any patterns in her head. She sighed.

“Babe, why don’t you come down here for a moment?”

“Sure…is this good news?”

“It can be,” she answered.

He moved closer to her. “What’s up? What’s the deal?”

“Our daughter is getting older now.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Don’t you think we should be telling her about her shares in the businesses we’ve formulated?” Carver darkened. “I don’t think she’s ready. She’s thirteen and that is old enough for her to legally be a holder of those shares in this country-state, but I still think we should wait until she’s eighteen.”

“If we tell her now, we’ll be able to let the ideas for how she wants to invest it marinate a bit,” Dr. Frampton said. “All we have to do is allow her to grow and sustain her way through college, find her own career, and still have access to billions of dollars to do whatever she wants to do,” Dr. Frampton said. Her voice seemed even and cold like she spent her time lecturing classes.

“I hear you talking, hon’” Carver said. “I just want her to be a little girl.”

“You’ve always wanted that….” she replied.

“Hear me out, now. I wanted her to be a girl that was rational and independent. A young lady who could make great decisions and present herself to be someone with class and dignity.”

“And you don’t think I want that, too?”

“I didn’t say that. I mean she shouldn’t be encumbered by the figures and the balance sheets until she’s of voting age.”

“The trust is something that we still have for her….”

“But she doesn’t know about it. She has no clue what a derivative is or a buy back. I can barely keep up on the terminology. But I do have enough competence in the area to know she’s not ready,” Carver mentioned.

Dr. Frampton looked down and then up again. With her head towards the ceiling she sat at the end of the couch while Carver approached.

“We’re not going to get anywhere going back and forth. I can talk to her gradually. Every birthday, she won’t even have to celebrate it like other kids. She can just know that the family fortune awaits her. It’s just five years, Keij’,” Carver said.

“Alright, I think we’re raising a fine young woman who may take after us in the STEAM division. She was fortunate to have a household together and for parents who are driven and selfish. All she has to do is be whatever she wants to be. She’ll be in high school next year and that will be the nexus between childhood and adulthood.”

“She’s growing up in the direction of righteousness. She has no connections to the mystical world, she’s certainly an individualist, and she is lightyears away from being sacrificial. That’s the kind of woman we are raising. She might argue with us, but it’s never anything serious. We have our own problems sometimes, but we resolve them and touch our heads to pillows and wake up having nearly forgotten whatever spat we had.”

“Soon,” Dr. Frampton pointed out, “she’ll be walking across the stage to receive diplomas and degrees. And maybe one day down the aisle.”

“Most fathers say, ‘don’t remind me.’ But I’m looking forward to her finding someone who at least comes close to her brilliance,” Carver acknowledged.

“Whoever it is, they’re going to have to match her pocketbook, too. Or surpass it given whatever profession they have.”

“I agree. I think if someone has a career at least that is engaging and soul-enriching, that’s about as much wealth as they need to be our little girl’s significant other.”

“Absolutely. Under this new nation, high school teachers can hope to make seven or eight figures a year. Thanks to the privatization of the place, besides government installations, we can expect her to meet someone below her economic class and still be a match.”

“If we continue to do what we’ve been doing these thirteen years, we should be alright,” Carver addressed.

“Yes, if we can go down this path with the same amount of fervor and attention, we should be proud. And I mean proud,” Dr. Frampton asserted. “The pride will stem from us being more than adequate parents to our daughter. That’s the key in all of this. Crowning ourselves because we are worth it.” She said it like a diplomat or a member of royalty because she had earned her royalty.

“Okay, okay. We can tell her about the shares in both of our companies that she will have access to in the coming weeks. With this birthday, we will recognize you, who gave birth to her and the fact that she will see a new day financially.”

“At the point where she takes herself to whatever heights she may climb, there is a good chance she will be able to look after those funds like a caretaker on the grounds of an immense skyscraper,” Dr. Frampton replied.

“That’s all I want for her. She is to be a person who can fend for herself in this world just like the adults. Thirteen seems kind of young, but there have been great Americans who started even earlier on their path to eudaimonia.”

“These are facts, babe,” Dr. Frampton leaned in and kissed her husband.