“You’re like that lady soldier from the future who comes back to protect people. Augmented.”
“The movie that just came out?” She asks Lang tentatively. “I don’t think I’ve seen it yet.”
“Aunt Shell took me. Not Barry, though. He’s too young for all the explosions.”
“I am not.”
Lang is too young for that kind of violence. Shelley will be getting a phone call first thing tomorrow.
“What’s augetted?” Barry asks.
“Augmented. It means to make something greater or stronger,” Tanisha defines helpfully. “What you did to the Lego ship today when you added the motor to it? You augmented the ship. But this prosthesis only helps me get back to almost normal. It doesn’t give me any extra abilities. As soon as they invent something that does, I can promise you I’ll be first in line to try it.”
“Me too,” Barry says enthusiastically. “Especially if it jumps really high.”
“Real legs are still the best, Barry. Trust me on this. But if you want yours to be shinier, you can use some of my lotion. In this weather, you should anyway.”
Their banter is doing something dangerous to my heart. They haven’t been in this good a mood in weeks. Since their mom called to tell them she was moving them to Arizona as soon as their custody was sorted out.
She told them before she let me know she was serving me a summons. It shouldn’t have surprised me. But it did.
The memory of the fight that followed destroys my mood and I walk into the living room, unwilling to skulk around my own home. “What’s going on out here?”
Tanisha is sitting in the middle of my couch, her long blue skirt gathered to her knees to reveal her prosthesis and one smooth, curvaceous leg that same delicious honey color as the rest of her. She’s in the process of putting lotion on it, while Barry is laughing and plopping the white cream right on his face. Even Lang is rubbing some into his elbow.
“We’re getting shiny. This is like Auntie Austen’s pig parties, isn’t it?” Barry asks when I stare at the tableau in silence.
“You’re getting shiny. I have dry elbows from the cold,” Lang mumbles, as if I’ve caught him doing something wrong. “And it’s Guinea Pig Party. That means she’s trying stuff out on people to see if they grow a third eye or get pimples.”
This is what’s been making my whole house smell like woman and citrus. This lotion she keeps containers of in the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Now she’s putting in on my boys.
“What’s in that?” I grab the small container and hold it up to read the ingredients. “Lang has sensitive skin.”
My son conveys betrayal better than any adult I know. “I don’t have sensitive anything.”
“You get gross rashes,” Barry reminds him unhelpfully. “Like a guinea pig.”
“Speaking of,” Tanisha says, “you should be safe, Langston. This lotion is actually made by your aunt, so I’m assuming she already tested it on someone else.”
“What?” I’m having a hard time looking away from her naked leg. I want to write a damn sonnet on the curve of her calf. She must notice what I’m doing, since she pulls down her skirt self-consciously, hiding herself from view.
I’m not okay with that at all.
“I’ve been buying from your sister’s beauty line almost exclusively for the last several years, Emerson. My skin has never been so smooth. Austen is a genius.”
“Aunt Shelley is too,” Barry adds immediately. “She made my pad show movies and call Grandma at the same time.”
Lang nods in agreement. “She’s good. They call Uncle Thor smart, but all he does is make beer. We can’t even have any of that.”
“No, you can’t,” I grumble absently, now staring at the design I should have recognized.
Barry continues rubbing the lotion over his already soft cheeks. “Well…Uncle Hugo can arrest you and fix a broken arm. Probably at the same time.”
“So can Aunt Bronte. She can fix anything that’s wrong, I think.”
I cross my arms now, staring at my sons in amusement. “Did they hire you to say that about them? I had no idea I was related to so much brilliance.”
I know. I’m incredibly proud of my family. I don’t need to brag about them, but I can appreciate their gifts.