Page 56 of Heat Clinic

Sam studies the plant wall in my living room, as everyone always does when they come over for the first time. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of plants. I can’t even keep a cactus alive. My mom says I have a black thumb. Every plant I touch dies.”

I shut the door and set the chain. “That’s good to know.” That means he’s never, ever allowed to touch them. These plants are my babies. The thought of babies makes me hesitate as I realize that’s something that is very much in my future now.

And that thought brings another realization with it. “Oh my God.”

He backs away from my jade pothos whose leafy vines grow down my bookcase. “I didn’t touch it, I swear.”

“No, it’s not that. Well, yes, don’t touch my plants.Ever. But I just realized I never called my family.” And I’m leaving town on Wednesday for weeks if everything goes well. They’re gonna kill me.

“So call them now.”

I’m dreading it, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Delaying it only makes it worse. I call my mother, and she picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hey, honey. What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Hi, Mom. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Really? You only call me when something’s wrong, or you need something. Is it money? I told you that Boston is too expensive to live in with this economy. You should move back home. You know your dad and I are only getting older. It’s hard to keep up with the yard work and snow. You could help us around the house, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about money. Maybe you could save enough and get a house out here in Marlborough. You barely see Gabbi or your sister anymore, and she’s starting preschool next month and—”

“Mom!”

“Well, don’t shout at me, honey.”

“I found my pack.”

“You found your… Oh, honey, that’s wonderful! Who is he? Or she. You know we don’t judge. What’s their name? What do they do for a living? We didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

I roll my eyes and shove a hand through my hair. I can already feel the headache forming after two minutes of conversation with her. “There are three of them. Marcus and Tom and Sam.”

“Three! Well… you always were oddly competitive with your sister. I’m so happy for you, honey. When do we get to meet them? Oh! Kevin, get in here! Emily found her pack! There’s three of them! Three! THREE! Turn your hearing aids up! OUR DAUGHTER EMILY FOUN—”

I hold the phone away from my ear until she’s done shouting at him. I don’t know how she’s never figured out that dad turns his hearing aids off when he wants a break from her. “MOM!”

“Don’t shout at me, honey. I can hear you just fine. It’s your father who keeps forgetting to change his battery. So when do we get to meet them?”

“That’s why I called. I’m not sure. I’m going to take FMLA from work so we can spend some time bonding. We met, uh,recently,so everything is still new.”

She heaves a wistful sigh in my ear. “I remember those early days. Enjoy them, honey. Why don’t you guys plan to come over one of these weekends? We’ll get the whole family together and celebrate. We can have a cookout! They eat meat, right? Because your father got a new smoker and he’s been smoking everything that used to walk or swim or fly. Although I suppose if they’re vegetarians he can smoke some eggplants or mushrooms or something. We’ll figure it out. I can find a recipe online. Of course I’ll make my—”

“They live in New York!” I blurt out.

The phone goes dead silent, and I jump at the chance to get this all out before she can go off on another tangent. I’d email her instead, except she always forgets to check it. “They live in New York City. So I’m going to spend a few weeks with them while we get to know one another and bond, and then I’ll let you know what we’re doing.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that my daughter intends to keep me in the loop while she goes gallivanting off to another state for weeks at a time with three strange men she just met while your father can’t even push the snow blower up the driveway anymore.”

I rub my forehead as my headache pounds behind my eyes. It’s like I’m being stabbed in the head with an icepick. “Olivia lives two blocks away from you. If you need help around the house, Mom, call her.”

My mother sniffs. “Your sister’s busy. She’s a mom.”

“And she has two mates. One of them should be able to push the snow blower for you. Or maybe you can hire a company to do it.”

“Your father would never agree. He has his pride, you know. Well… I won’t try to talk you out of it. Not even if you’re going to be very far away and almost never see us again and probably get mugged on a subway. God knows, you’re an adult and you have your own life to lead. Are you going to have kids?”

Sam goes into my kitchen and pulls open my fridge. He ducks his head inside and looks around, then pulls out two of my hard ciders. I watch him through the opening between the cabinets and barstool counter as he lifts his shirt up, exposing his abs, and uses it as a cushion while he twists the lids off. He brings them into the living room and hands me one, and we both take long pulls. Either he’s read my mind or he can hear every word she says since she’s used to talking loudly for my hard-of-hearing father.

“We are, actually. But I’m not sure when. We’re figuring things out.”

She sighs, which confuses me because she’s always harping about how old I am and how it’s harder to get pregnant for the first time at my age, even as a hyper-fertile omega.

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