Heather plopped down at her vanity and started running a brush through her red-gold hair. It would probably be considered auburn except for the blonde highlights running through it. Most her friends thought she dyed it, but it was completely natural. She wondered how two blondes could produce a red head. I am the redheaded stepchild, she thought dramatically, and then sighed. Nobody could mistake her for anything but her mother's child.
She cleared her mind as best she could, and concentrated, letting go of the brush. It stayed in place. She visualized it moving, and the brush jerked through her hair. No headache. That was good. Lifting an object was easy, but actually moving it took serious finesse. It was hard work just brushing her hair. The hardest thing was taking something from someone's hands. It wasn't just yanking. You had to simultaneously open their fingers and then pull the object. It usually caused a migraine.
The telekinesis wasn't that powerful, and still a little spotty. She wasn't a Carrie destroying a town. She thought she was doing really good to lift a twin without a headache. She had to stop doing that when she dropped one by accident. He hadn't gotten hurt, but they'd all had to sit down and have a family conference about abilities. Nobody's mental abilities were consistent, and it was easy to make a mistake. In short, be very careful, and no using a test subject without consent.
Her phone rang. She made herself keep the brush up and moving as she picked up the phone. She was doing great, but there was a little throbbing in her temples. Better to stop now before it got bad.
"Hey there, she say yes?" Daniel asked as soon as she said hello.
"No," Heather pouted, flinging herself on her bed. Despite the three and a half years between them, they'd always been close. He'd left that fall for his first semester in college, and she missed him terribly. Why he'd chosen to go to New York to go to school, she'd never know. "She said she'd have to talk to Dad first."
"You can talk Dad into anything."
"Not if Mom doesn't want me to go! You don't have to be the telepath in the family to know what she's thinking either. I'm not three anymore, it'd be much harder to kidnap me now, and besides, who's going to know I'm even in Colorado?" She picked at the lint on her blanket. "You're all the way across the country and nobody's messed with you!"
"Go spar with her," Daniel suggested. "Maybe remind her SUBTLY that you're very skilled in your own right."
"Maybe." She brightened. "So, how's school? Got a new girlfriend yet?" She listened eagerly as he catalogued what he'd been doing over the last couple of weeks.
Finally he broke off. "Okay, transfer me to the other line," he ordered. "I need to talk to Mom anyways." Heather was a little disappointed, but did as asked. She sat back down at her vanity, and resumed hands-free hair brushing. It was getting easier with practice.
Alicia picked up the ringing phone, and smiled when she heard the hello. "Well, nice to hear from you my long lost son," she said.
"More like temporarily out of service," he teased. "Like you couldn't find me if you wanted."
"That's your father's job," she replied, in the same teasing tone. "Let me guess, your sister's already been at you to convince me to let her go skiing."
"Was that ever in doubt?" he asked. "You'll do the right thing," he said dismissively, and then sounded a little nervous. "Actually, there's something else I wanted to tell you." He was so glad he couldn't see his mother's riveting expression right then. That look was enough to immediately make you apologize, and then go back to doing what she wanted.
"I'm moving out, and getting a place with two friends," he announced. "Not that there's been any problems with Kendra and Walter, but I just want to have a place of my own."
Walter had taken a job with the New York City Police Department five years before. He had wanted to go somewhere where a cop could still get his clean graft, and not have to worry about some do-gooder looking over his shoulder. He and Kendra had moved out there, and when Daniel went to school, offered to let him live with them. Walter still didn't know about their unique family history, and still marveled that relatives of Max Guevara could be such nice, ordinary people.
"When are you planning on doing this?" she asked. Here was the hard part.
"Umm…well…we wanted to you know, go ahead before the holidays…so…" he stammered.
"Last weekend?" she finished for him. There was silence. She was going to have to kill her eldest.
"Mom, it's not like I want to run around and party and stuff," he said quickly. "But Walter's a cop and they ask questions like why don't I sleep." She couldn't argue with that. As much as Max taunted him, Walter was actually a good cop. He had the instincts for it, even if he couldn't tell there was spit in his coffee.
"But you now can run around and party and stuff," Alicia said almost casually.
"Mom!" he protested, sounding so much like Heather she could cringe.
"Daniel," she said with a sigh, "you're of age, so there's not much I can do, but if you knew it was the right thing you wouldn't have kept it a secret. He didn't know it, but she knew where that line had come from. Then Lydecker would administer the punishment for whatever had been done without his knowledge.
"I wasn't trying to be sneaky," he said, feeling about ten years old. Only his mother could do that to him. "If I was I would have waited until I came home for Thanksgiving to tell you."
"Except Kendra would have mentioned it the next time we talked."
"Mom!"
"It's okay," she finally said. "It's fine with me for you to have your own place, but be careful, alright."
This was a tricky place. Was she really okay? Was she going to show up in New York tomorrow? "Okay Mom, well I just wanted to let you know, and got to get running. I have an exam to study for."
"Bye"
"Bye"
Alicia hung up the phone. She'd be questioning herself as to where her children got that headstrong, independent belief that they were immortal, but she didn't have to ask. All she had to do was remember herself at fifteen and eighteen. She turned back to the potatoes, and nearly jumped a mile high when the roses came around her into her face.
