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According to Park, she finished her degree, moved to Vlasta, Wisconsin, recently married a professor of macroeconomics at the local university, and is a first-grade teacher at some private academy while we got another incredible member to our unstoppable crew.

Temps is well-educated, well-mannered, and possesses the patience of a saint, which came inextrahandy when Wy was little, and the twins were babies.

He’s always willing and ready to throw on whatever color uniform shirt we need him to do that day whether it’s for command, engineer, or med bay.

Wes appreciates his flexibility.

And I appreciate the medianotstarting rumors that he’s sleeping with my husband.

See.

Everyone. Wins.

“They’re de-boarding,” Lurch announces, putting his phone down in the cup holder, prior to looking over his shoulder at me. “Do you mind if Hill and I switch places tonight? Maz is having her morning sickness in the evening like you did with the twins and Hamilton says that shit’s normal and that she’s fine, but Ihatebeing gone for that shit if I really don’t have to be.”

Having Lurch not only fall in love but knock up Mazarine, the much younger, five foot nothing, mousy, bouncy, pasty, pastry assistant to Lucky – who refuses to ever get married – during her first year with us was to say the very least fucking surprising.

A lot like Hamilton marrying a black, female drummer – who loves to talk to Brae about female musicians – that he met at a speakeasy.

Mostof the men in our family have one way or another settled down.

Found love in strange places.

Began their own families, most of which are either on the direct estate property or over in no man’s land like Mom and Clark.

Our impenetrable closeness definitely remains.

And thankfully, since the whole Catalina incident, we haven’t dealt with any high-level threats, allowing the members of our extended family to have lives of their own.

Fuck, even Silas managed to grieve his “loss” and find love with a woman who works for The Frost Luxury Hotel in hospitality.

They’re a match made in concierge heaven.

Plus, who doesn’t love a woman that leaves complimentary “spa sets” – that always include blue mascara – for her behind the front desk of the building shetechnicallyowns?

“That’s fine with me, if it’s fine with him,” I state over the continued squabbling of the twins that’s now moved onto which version ofThe Grinchis the best. “And Park.” An eye-roll is mindlessly executed. “Scottyfuckingforbid, we don’t tell the all mighty Sulu there’s been a small change in the mission plan.”

Lurch’s face twitches a tiny scrunch in confusion. “I don’t know who that is.”

“How have you been a part ofthis familyforthis longand still not know who that is?!”

“I’m team Batman.”

“Yeah, well, you look like Bluey in that sweater!” viciously bites Blakely.

“And you look like you’re cosplaying Martha May Whovinayin that dress!” Brae wittily snipes back.

“Now, you’re team stay in the SUV with the bitchy tweens.” A sassy, mirth-filled smirk is followed by me exiting the vehicle. “Good luck in Gotham.”

Lurch groans so loudly he sounds more like his namesake than normal.

I use the unopened door to the plane as an excuse to take my time getting from where we’re parked over to where they’ll be exiting.

Cold air enthusiastically winds itself around my curvy figure, eager to remind me that while it was wise to completely cover my tits – that are only a little fuller than they were pre-kids – it would’ve been wiser to adequately cover my legs too.

But I fucking hate tights.

And leggings.

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