Page 48 of Jack of All Trades

Maltin gathered him into his arms. “Not a chance. She may threaten to take a few years off my life, but she’s going to adore you.”

“She’s a lot of bluster, my sister, but she’ll bring you into the fold and spoil you rotten. She always wanted another child.”

“She had you,” Maltin told Rodney. “You were at our house more than your parents’.”

“True. But my folks were old and stodgy, and I love my sister. She’s the best companion I could hope for, and Jack, she will love you. I promise that.”

Jack nodded and Maltin kissed his head. “No more worrying. Rodney, take us there now, or Mother might level all of them before we can even speak to them.”

“True. Okay, hold onto your stomachs. This never feels good for first-timers.”

Maltin was familiar with the act, but he hated it. The feeling started at the base of his balls and felt as if something were inside of him, pulling from there.

Stretching, stretching until it felt as if his balls were in his throat, choking the life from him, and then, in an instant, it was over, and they were parking in front of a hedgerow, the sky dark with storm clouds.

As soon as they landed, Jack opened the back door and hurried outside to vomit, and Maltin followed him to make sure he was okay. “Jack?”

Jack was too busy upchucking to answer, but Rodney got out with them and stretched his back. “Long ride, huh?”

Jack stood straight, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell was that?”

“That, Jack, was us teleporting. Not everyone can do it, but my mother and uncle are proficient.”

“Don’t ever do that again. I thought my balls were being torn off.”

“Okay, we don’t have to, but your birth family lives much farther than this.”

Jack pondered and mumbled, “Maybe. If I’m still alive after this.”

“There you are,” a woman’s voice called. “What took you so long?”

Maltin saw his mother, the beautiful woman she was, walking toward them in her sky-blue suit and matching lizard mules. She looked even better then when he’d last seen her, not a wrinkle on her face, and her hair was blond this time. “Mother.”

Jack stiffened beside him, but Maltin whispered, “Don’t get nervous, baby.”

“Can’t help it.”

She walked over to them and Rodney pecked both her cheeks in greeting. “Trudy.”

“Rodney, how are you, darling?”

“Having a time, dear. May I introduce Jack Pengrove. Jack, this is your future mother-in-law, Gertrude Hilderbrand Graves.”

“Trudy, please,” she said, reaching out her white-gloved hand to Jack.

“Kiss the back of her hand,” Maltin coached.

He did and then said, “Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

“Pish, posh,” she said with a sweet smile. “No ma’ams, and if you call me Gertrude, like my annoying brother, I’ll turn you into a fly.”

Jack paled, but Rodney laughed at her. “Sorry, dearest, but he is family now.”

“Of course, he is. Now, are we going to meet these people and let them down easily that their son is not really their son?”

“The fobs,” Rodney spat.

“Rodney, dear, they’re about to discover their son, their real son, perished twenty years ago. For a mother, that is terrible news. We will be gentle until they give us reason to be harsh.”

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