Summer brought a sweltering heat wave that turned New York into a city of hot, grumpy trolls. I had grown up in a hot, humid climate and was more or less comfortable, even when the air conditioner broke and our apartment became an oven. Gabriel tried to fix it, but lost his patience in the oppressive heat and threw what could only be described as a super-charged tantrum, resulting in the dead machine being psychically electrocuted and telekinetically hurled out the window. I, of course, didn't stop teasing him about it for weeks, especially when all the appliance stores were back-ordered for replacements.
Still, there was a bonus to scorching heat waves: Gabriel walked around shirtless whenever we were in the apartment, and I definitely enjoyed the eye candy. For his part, Gabriel certainly seemed to appreciate seeing me walk around in just panties and his old t-shirts, because every time I turned around, he was trying to get into my proverbial pants. Nine times out of ten, he got what he was after; there wasn't a woman on Earth with the willpower to turn down a shirtless Gabriel Gray when he tried to seduce her.
Of course, we couldn't always be going at it like bunnies, and our respective jobs had air-conditioning. The project was going well again, despite the previous mishaps, because everyone seemed to remember how important it was. Phase 2, where the subjects wore them in their daily lives, was completed at the end of August, and the FDA readily approved us moving on to Phase 3, where our product would be tested across the country on a larger portion of the demographic.
Steven graduated Summa Cum Laude and employers were beating down his door in attempts to woo him, but he came to me privately one day and told me that he wanted to stay with me until the project finished. In September, an old university professor of mine in Atlanta asked me to guest lecture, an opportunity I jumped at both because he was a friend of mine and because it gave me an excuse to see my family for the first time since the previous Thanksgiving.
As soon as I stepped out of Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, I saw my eldest brother waiting for me with a gigantic smile on his face. "Benedick!"
My brother wrapped me in a massive hug, squeezing me tightly before releasing me to take my suitcase. "How was the flight?"
I waved my hand dismissively. "Short, thankfully. How are my nieces and nephews? I trust I will get to see them this week?"
Benedick gave me an are-you-serious look. "Of course you will. You know Mom started planning a massive get-together as soon as you said you were coming."
I grinned and slid my sunglasses down as he pulled out onto the road. "Can you blame her? I'm her favorite child."
"Oh, please. You're her favorite for the week because she forgot all your irritating quirks. I'm her favorite for the year because I gave her the most recent grandchild."
I arched absolutely eyebrow. "I'm telling your wife you said that."
As Benedick filled me in on all the family news, I couldn't stop smiling. I loved my life in New York, but coming home was always something I looked forward to, and my time away made me appreciate everything I missed.
My parents were out of the house as soon as they saw us pull into the driveway, and I was wrapped in my mother's arms before I was even out of the car. "Hi, Mom. I missed you both so much!"
My mother pressed a kiss to my cheek, refusing to release me. "You're never leaving again. I'll lock you in your room if I have to." I squeezed her tightly before trying to pull back, but she tightened her arms. "I'm not done yet."
I laughed and she finally released me, only to pass me on to my father, who hugged me just as fiercely. Dad always smelled like old books and the cigars he bought but never smoked, a comforting scent that I'd never appreciated until I'd left home for the first time. Now, I always inhaled deeply every time I hugged him, relishing the smell of my childhood. Finally, he released me, but kept an arm around my shoulders and Mom took my other hand as we made our way to the house.
All six of Patricia and Thomas Ramsey's children could describe each detail of the old house by memory; this was where we'd grown up. The home stood out proudly from the others on the street in more ways than one, as though the unique quirks of its inhabitants had manifested over the years. While our old bicycles and toys had been replaced by newer models as the original 6 children had kids of their own, the lawn was still littered with children's playthings. Two tree houses – one for the boys, one for the girls – that had been carefully maintained over the decades still perched protectively in the ancient trees on the property, and a little toe-headed boy the spitting image of Benedick was currently scrambling down the ladder. I knew in the backyard there was another tree with a thick, knotted rope that the other kids were probably using to swing into the deep creek it overlooked.
Even the colonial house itself had retained its quirky personality over the years. It was well-maintained – my father was a stickler for house maintenance – but my parents had painted it bright turquoise with white trim when they bought it in 1973 and hadn't changed their minds since. My parents shared an office on the ground floor, where floor-to-ceiling bookshelves took up all available wall space and were arranged by the Dewey decimal system; punishment as a child meant that you had to spend hours carefully dusting each book and making sure it was in its correct place.
Most of the adults in my family were waiting for me in the massive kitchen, and for the next several minutes I felt disconcertingly like a dish at the dinner table as I was passed from person to person around the room. I hugged my twin, Leo – his full name was Leonidas and he wore Armani suits to work every day – then Lucian and his life partner Jackson – both body builders who couldn't clean a room to save their lives – before being passed over to Julius and his sweet wife Gretchen – two chefs who owned the restaurant they worked at. Finally, I arrived at the oldest of us and my only sister, Ariadne, an archeologist with red hair that matched her fiery personality. This was my family, this strange amalgamation of ideas and people and personalities that shouldn't fit so perfectly together, but did. The pieces of my family were all unique, but fit and worked together like pieces of the clocks Gabriel could never quite get me interested in.