Succubs on Top

'Georgina!' squealed eight-year old Kendall, tearing toward me. Her mother, walking into the room, leapt out and tackled her daughter.

'Don't touch her!' Andrea exclaimed, tumbling to the ground. 'Not in that dress.'

I laughed, wanting to sweep up each one of the girls in an enormous hug, the dress be damned.

'Seth,' chastised Terry, standing on top of a ladder, 'why didn't you tell her this was a war zone?' The Mortensen Brothers always entertained me. Despite being younger, Terry always seemed exasperated by Seth's scattered behavior and often had to prod him into reality.

Seth sat cross-legged on the floor with Kayla, youngest of the Mortensen daughters, on his lap. Like everyone else, he had paint all over him—including his Writers Do It at Their Desks shirt. Looking as serene as a Buddhist monk, he flashed me one of his distracted smiles. 'Because it's always a war zone over here. '

'Well, get her out of here and take her somewhere nice,' Terry said. 'No need to drag her down into this.'

This immediately triggered cries of outrage from the girls.

'I don't mind staying,' I told them. 'I'd like to help.'

Andrea rose from her tackle, one arm still around Kendall. 'We're going to have to cover you up then. Come on, let's see if I've got anything that'll fit.'

She released Kendall. The little girl took a step toward me but didn't touch anything. 'You look like one of the ladies in the Victoria's Secret catalog.'

'My favorite reading material,' I told her solemnly.

'Daddy's too.'

Her mother groaned and led me to her bedroom, forcing us to squeeze through the furniture packed hallway. Being in Terry and Andrea's bedroom was a lot different than being in Dana's. It was messier for one thing, with an unmade bed and piles of laundry on the floor. The color scheme and decorating were a lot less coordinated too, suggesting it had all been pieced together over the years, not preplanned with a designer's cold eye. Pictures of the girls at various ages covered the walls and dressers, and free surfaces held odd pieces of jewelry, books, and change. And yet, despite that clutter, the whole room felt filled with love, like the people who occupied it were happy and cared about each other. It made the place warm and cozy, not sterile and sharp as Dana's had been. It made me feel good to be in here, jealous that I had nothing like it with another person, and almost intrusive to be in such an intimate setting. It was like eavesdropping.

'Ah, here we are,' murmured Andrea, rummaging through drawers. She handed me some clothes. I slipped out of the dress and tried them on. While she had a fantastic body for having birthed five daughters, Andrea was still taller and bigger than me, so the clothes hung loose and long. Changing her mind, she handed me denim overalls instead of the jeans. They had to be rolled up at the cuffs, but the straps kept them on me. I tied my hair in a ponytail and was ready to go.

Seth laughed when he saw me.

'Hey,' I said, poking him with my foot, 'be nice.'

'I think this is the first time I've ever seen you look anything less than…' He paused, playing with word choice. 'Well-planned.'

'Why, you silver-tongued romantic devil. That is the look I usually go for. Other women go for sexy or chic or beautiful. But me? Well-planned all the way.'

'You know what I mean. Besides, unplanned isn't a bad look for you. Not bad at all.'

His voice sounded deliciously low and dangerous, and something ignited between us as we held each other's eyes.

'You guys can flirt on your own time,' said Terry briskly, handing me a roller and tray of paint. 'Right now, you work for us. Think you can do this part of the wall?'

'Sure.' I glanced over at Seth, whose main job still seemed to be restraining Kayla. 'Why aren't you painting?'

'Because he isn't allowed to,' answered Brandy, painting deftly around a doorway.

'Uncle Seth's a libation,' explained Kendall.

'Liability,' corrected her mother. She grinned at me. 'The odds say you have to be a better painter than him. Correction: the laws of the universe say you have to be.'

'Of course she is. She's good at everything.' Seth watched me apply a smooth, even coat. 'See?'

Painting with the Mortensens made for an utterly normal and utterly enjoyable evening. They were so funny and nice that it was hard not to love them. Working side by side, I could almost pretend I was really one of them. Like this could be my own family. They included me in everything and spoke as though Seth and I were a done deal, assuming I would be with them not only for Thanksgiving but also for Christmas and an assortment of other get- togethers.

The simple, casually extended affection made me feel happy inside, and sad too. I would never be able to quite fit in with any mortal family, even if this wacky relationship with Seth did ever stabilize.

I pushed aside a plastic-covered box and got a peek inside. Moving the sheet further, I smiled down at a framed picture of Terry and Andrea's wedding party—including a much younger Seth.

'Look at you,' I teased. 'You used to shave.'

He rubbed the stubble on his lower face. 'I still shave.'

'So this is the infamous occasion Seth almost missed?'

'Yup,' said Terry, a rueful tone in his voice. 'Apparently finishing A Talented Heat was more important than witnessing my nuptials.'

'Oh,' I said neutrally, 'that's a really good one.' I wasn't sure if it was missing-a-wedding good, but it was still one of my favorites. It might have been worth the sacrifice. 'Who's the other guy beside you?'

'Our other brother. Ian.'

'Another Mortensen? You guys are abundant.'

'Tell me about it,' said Terry. 'Ian's the black sheep.'

'I thought I was the black sheep,' said Seth, sounding almost hurt.

'No. You're the unfocused artistic one. I'm the responsible one. Ian's the wild, hedonistic one.'

'What's hedonistic?' asked Kendall.

Her father considered. 'It means you run up a lot of credit card bills you can't pay, change jobs a lot, and have a lot of…lady friends.'

Brandy rolled her eyes. 'Good euphemism, Dad.'

Only in the Mortensen family, I decided delightedly, would a fourteen-year old use a word like 'euphemism.'

Andrea walked over to the portrait and admired her younger self. In the picture, she wore a long-sleeved lace dress that left her shoulders bare.

'Ah, those were the days,' she sighed. 'Back before pregnancy ruined my body.'

'Well, that wasn't entirely before pregnancy,' observed her husband in an undertone. She shot him a dangerous look. Brandy groaned.

Seth tried to hide a smile and changed the subject. 'That church had horrible carpet. Burgundy shag.' He shook his head. 'I think I'm going to get married outdoors.'

'Oh my God,' said Terry with mock horror, 'I can't believe you just acknowledged you might get married. I thought you were married to your writing.'

'Hey, I've never had a problem with polygamy.'

Kendall's eyes widened. 'What's polygamy?'

Later, when we'd finished the living room, Seth and I offered to start cleaning up while Terry and Andrea put the brood to bed. The girls resisted, clinging to Seth and me, wanting us to talk and come back tomorrow.

'My nieces think you're a rock star,' he observed as we washed brushes in the kitchen. 'I think they like you better than me.'

'I'm not the one they had to tear Kayla from. Hey, does she ever talk?'

'Sometimes. Usually when there's bait involved—like candy or small objects she might choke on.'

We washed the brushes in silence until I brought up the topic that had been on my mind ever since he'd mentioned it.