The Family

Chapter 3
Part 3

[quote][quote][quote]Still in his clothes, Seth awoke to find himself curled up on the Tierney’s living room couch. Sitting up abruptly, he glanced around his empty quarters, his eyes still working to adjust to the light. Naturally the first inclination was to disregard last night’s events as a lucid dream, a trick of the unconscious. Sticky with sweat and wondering how he’d ever fallen asleep in the first place, Seth stumbled toward the hallway and into the nearest bathroom. Turning on the light, he felt the same jolt of disbelief.

There in the mirror stood a messy-haired man of twenty-five.

Eyes growing wide again, Seth ran his hands across his scruffy cheeks as the memories replayed in his mind. It was all real. George Tierney had turned him into a twentysomething the night before, the age games were no dream, and the objective remained: how to escape without pissing off his host.

“Ah, Seth. Up and at ?em, are we?” George said, his shadow taking over the doorway to the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Seth answered, momentarily startled. “I guess so. Any word on my car?”

“I took the liberty of having it towed to Randy Cunningham’s place over on Vine. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no, that’s great. Any idea how long we’re talking?” Seth asked, trying desperately to tame his hair with his hands. “I really need to get going...“

“Randy said he could have her up and running by this evening,” George replied.

“This evening?” Seth groaned, his expression melting into a resigned grimace. “It was just a fender bender. Surely whatever I knocked loose could be fixed in a couple hours. Can’t he bump me up?”

George’s posture slumped, hearing Seth’s urgent tone. “I’m afraid that’s the optimistic estimate, Seth. What’s wrong, can’t stand a few more hours here with us?”

“No, you’ve been very kind,” Seth said, again studying his new body. “Very kind. I just have work to do, you know? Back in LA.”

“How about a walk?” George suggested oddly. “I’ll show you around town and we can check on your car while we’re out.”

Seth tentatively agreed with more than a hint of reluctance. If he didn’t know better, he might suspect George was conspiring to keep him from leaving town.

Showered and groomed, Seth emerged from the bathroom sporting his new, more youthful look. In the kitchen, he discovered George, Gwen, and Lindsay quietly eating their traditional breakfast. They motioned for him to take the vacant seat, where a plate had been set for him.

“Milk or orange juice?” Gwen asked automatically.

“Oh, orange juice would be fine,” Seth answered, locking eyes with Lindsay, who sat much lower to the table than during their previous meal.

The conversation, light and inconsequential, carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Just George, Gwen, and their elementary school-aged daughter preparing for a normal day. But the intensity brewing in Lindsay’s eyes belied the routine atmosphere. When their gazes met, Seth sensed a palpable anger and resentment welling up inside the seven-year-old as she munched silently away at her cereal.

“Go get dressed now, honey,” Gwen said to her daughter.

“ok, Mom,” she complied in a new, squeaky soprano.

Standing up and sheepishly retrieving her Captain Crunch bowl, Lindsay stared directly at Seth, as if to issue a nonverbal warning. As she left to get dressed, he couldn’t help but observe how much shorter last night’s episode had left the poor pajama-clad girl.

“Ready for your tour?” George said, wiping his face with a napkin.

“Sure, sounds good,” Seth tried to remain upbeat despite the underlying tension in the room.

-------

Unlocking the gate, George stepped onto the sidewalk carrying his briefcase, a curiosity that led Seth to inquire what purpose it served.

“Oh, just some business I need to take care of while we’re out. You don’t mind, do you?” He sealed the deal with a gentlemanly grin.

“I guess not,” Seth replied meekly. “It’s your town, after all, right?”

“That it is,” George wasted no time agreeing.

The pair traveled down Main Street at a casual pace. Admiring the evenly planted trees lining the road, Mr. Tierney explained how the town had turned around since he began his tenure as Mayor. School attendance was up, crime was down, and businesses were prospering. To hear George tell it, his plan to remake the ailing rural town into a real life Mayberry had succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations.

But Seth had to wonder at the peculiar habits of the townspeople. It seemed nearly everyone they approached on their short walk made pains to avoid eye contact and cross the street rather than pass by and say a friendly hello. He noticed doors closing and blinds being drawn, but maybe it was just his imagination or a coincidence.

Another curious sight caught Seth’s attention as they rounded the corner onto Elm. A boy no older than thirteen wearing a suit and tie like a businessman. His hair gelled and eyes hidden behind sunglasses, the kid either possessed an acute precociousness or else he too had been a victim (or beneficiary) of Mr. Tierney’s device. Seth had to snicker as he watched the boy stop to answer a cell phone call, like some high-powered Wall Street type.

“And over here is where the old theater used to be,” George pointed out to his distracted partner. “We moved it to Main and had it completely refurbished...”

“Oh,” Seth said, snapping back into the conversation. “Nice.”

Soon they passed a small caf? where an attractive woman, probably in her late thirties, shot them a worried glare. Dressed somewhat provocatively, the redhead darted around like someone half her age as she cleared the tables.

Once out of earshot, George suddenly stopped and turned around.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, opening his briefcase and, much to Seth’s surprise, pulling out the device. “Just a quick favor for a friend.”

“But I thought you said...“

Aiming the gun at the woman, Mr. Tierney pulled the trigger as he adjusted the controls. Seth’s attention bounced back and forth between the device and the waitress busing tables about half a block back. Any minute he expected to see her height diminish and her dress crumple onto the ground. Instead, it appeared nothing was happening.

“What did you do to her?” Seth gulped.

“Her mother works in my office. Said her teenager kept complaining about how no one treats her like a grown up, how it’s unfair...you know the usual routine for kids that age.”

Seth tried to follow George’s hasty backstory. “So, that woman is really a teenager?”

“She’s sixteen,” Mr. Tierney explained, packing the device back into the briefcase. “I made her thirty-eight to teach her a lesson, but her mother said it wasn’t working.”

“So you made her older?”

“Yep,” George responded indifferently. By that time the unlucky girl, now growing crow’s feet and sagging breasts, could be heard sobbing and running inside. “We’ll see how she likes drawing Social Security.”

“I thought you said you don’t go around flashing it off,” Seth reminded Mr. Tierney.

“Well, only on business, you know,” he replied, becoming slightly defensive. “I don’t use it carelessly.”

“Oh, I’m not saying that...” Seth quickly backpedaled. “Of course not.”

“We’re coming up on Randy’s,” George said, thankfully changing the subject. “I can see your Civic.”

The modest mechanic had his head under the hood of an Oldsmobile when George and Seth walked up. Still shaken by the open-air demonstration just a few feet back, Seth could hardly enjoy the pleasant small-town image of Mr. Cunningham’s oily handkerchief dangling from his back pocket. Nor did he notice the young man in a tank top wiping off windshields across the lot.

“Hi there, Mayor,” Randy said, turning to greet his visitors. “Here to check on Mr. Travers’ Civic?”

“Yeah, is there any way you could finish by this afternoon?” Seth interjected.

“In a hurry, boy?” the greasy man replied in a grinding voice.

“Oh, no, not really,” Seth said, faking a smile, “Just eager to get back home.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news. I’m going to need a part from the manufacturer. Probably take me at least two days to get it.”

All the saliva left Seth’s mouth. “Two days??”

“It’s no problem, Seth,” George consoled him. “We’d be happy to put you up for another couple nights.”

“Say, by the way,” Randy interrupted, pointing toward his rather handsome assistant. “I was talking to the wife last night about the boy going off to college... and, well, last week Jeff and I went to a little league game. Kinda brought back some memories. Anyway I was wondering if you could use you know to maybe help us out.”

Mr. Tierney raised an eyebrow.

“For payment, of course. How about I fix Mr. Travers car here for free?”

“Well, I think that can be arranged,” George said, once again slipping the Rensen Device from his case. “How young are you thinking?”

Seth backed away slowly as the impromptu transaction unfurled.

“Oh, I don’t know. What’s the age limit on little league again?”

“I believe it’s eleven,” Mr. Tierney supplied the answer as he raised the device and pointed it toward the muscular eighteen-year-old. “Always good to keep our talent here in town, I say.”

Moments later, the teen began tugging at his oil-stained pants. Seconds passed and he found his tank top hanging uselessly off his shoulder. Little time elapsed before Jeff caught on and raised his arms in aggravation.

“Hey Dad, what the fuck?!” the fifteen-year-old yelled, examining his underarms and finding only a few wisps of hair. Gradually realizing what was happening to him, Jeff studied his hands intently, then reached down to yank his dropping pants back up to his thinning waist.

Amused by what was no doubt a repeat occurrence, Randy’s response was startlingly blas?. “Come on, Jeff. Your mom will love it this time.”

“I have a date tonight!” the preteen shot back, his voice cracking in the process.

“Well, looks like you better cancel it!” Randy laughed, watching his son dwindle from a well-built young man into a lean little boy.

“It’s not fair!” the boy shot back, this time in full soprano. “This isn’t funny!”

Once Lindsay’s boyfriend, Jeff Cunningham had learned the perils of living with the age-changing machine. These days he felt lucky just being allowed into his teens. In fact, the past two years had gone along smoothly and Jeff was happy with the results of his new exercise regime. To see all that hard work washed away in a matter of seconds really burned him up. Little could be done, though, as one blast from the Rensen device had already landed him back in the fifth grade. He wasn’t about to try for the fourth.

“How old did you make him?” Randy asked casually, finishing up his work on the Oldsmobile.

“Around ten,” George replied. “Should be about there from the looks of him.”

“Thanks,” Randy said, shaking the mayor’s hand. “His mom really will enjoy it. All that talk about college was making her feel old, you know.”

“Understood,” George said. “Well, you ready to go?”

Struggling for words, Seth worked hard to wipe the deer-in-headlights expression from his face, not knowing if he was succeeding.

“Um... yeah,” Seth sputtered. “Yes.”

Next on the tour was Battle Park, a charming little enclave dotted with wooden benches and picnic tables. Relatively quiet except for a group of middle school boys playing basketball on the court at the opposite end of the park, the area nevertheless did little to soothe Seth’s nerves. More and more, Lindsay’s story was checking out and Seth felt increasingly trapped in Mr. Tierney’s tightening web.

“Ever think of moving to a small town?” George asked, parking himself on a bench.

“Not really,” Seth calibrated his answers carefully. “But they seem really nice.”

“I just say that because... I’m looking for an assistant. You know, someone I can count on.”

Seth didn’t appreciate where this was heading, but he listened attentively as Mr. Tierney continued.

“The device is a big responsibility,” he remarked like a manager running through the company handbook. “Our whole community depends on it. Making sure it stays out of the wrong hands is crucial. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the worst scenarios...”

A nearby flock of pigeons filled the lulls in the conversation with intermittent chirps.

“Criminals, terrorists... if anyone else knew about it... well...”

“I imagine.”

The two sat nearly stationary for the next five minutes, just staring at the scenery. Beyond the drinking fountain, a giggling teenaged couple cozied up on a bench. After a couple minutes, the two horny sixteen-year-olds started making out, unaware the bushes provided them little cover. While Seth tried to avoid gawking at the amusing sight, Mr. Tierney could be heard reaching back down into the briefcase. Seth grew concerned.

“Hey, what...“

“Shhhh,” George instructed him. “Those two are way too young for that.”

Wondering whether Mr. Tierney planned to age or regress the pair, Seth nervously sat on his hands, trying his best not to intervene. But as it became clear the teens were shrinking into preadolescents in baggy clothes, he couldn’t hold himself back.

“Stop it!” he ordered, lunging to grab the device.

Mr. Tierney pawed at the gun, growling “What the hell are you...?!” but soon found himself on the receiving end.

“I can’t let you go around turning people into children,” Seth said, his voice quivering as he shakily held the device with both hands. “It’s not right.”

In his periphery, Seth barely recognized the once-teenaged lovebirds, now nearly kindergartners tripping over their massive clothes.

“I think you better hand that back,” Mr. Tierney said menacingly. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“I’ve seen enough, Mr. Tierney,” Seth responded, backing up but keeping a perfect bead on George. “Lindsay was right. You keep people under control with this thing...“

“I keep this town in line. I make people follow the rules. I give people what they deserve,” George stated. “Now give it back to me before you do something stupid.”

“No, you’re playing God.”

Mr. Tierney crept closer.

“Stay back!” Seth said, fingering the trigger.

“I swear, son. I’m going to put you back in diapers!” George yelled, lunging for the device. Coming up short, Seth had just enough time to squeeze the trigger and send the pulse directly into Mr. Tierney’s chest. Both men stayed silent for a moment, as George slunk back onto the bench, the indescribable sting coursing through his limbs. When he finally lifted his head, Seth could see the machine’s effects already fast at work.

“Wh-what did you do?” the dazed twenty-nine-year-old stuttered.

Keeping his mouth shut and his eyes on the youthening mayor, Seth cautiously moved away. As he turned, though, he could hear Mr. Tierney leaping to his feet. The two quickly broke into a chase, with George battling his loosening clothes.

“You son of bitch!” he shouted, now a gangly lad of seventeen. “Come back!”

Still running at full speed, Seth made periodic glances back. Each time Mr. Tierney appeared younger and less able to keep up. The shouts grew higher in pitch as George slipped by the threshold of puberty and reverted to a boy of ten, then nine, then eight. The taunts became fainter and more childish-sounding as Seth pressed on toward Main Street.

Rounding the corner, Seth spied the Tierney’s home and broke into a sprint. It was not without some ironic luck that Seth’s regression the previous night supplied him with more endurance. Then again, George could hardly muster a challenge. Like the necking teens, he was reduced to a waddling five-year-old weighed down by his oversized clothes.

Seth rushed through the front entrance, the screen door snapping against the frame behind him. The house apparently vacant, he realized in a hurry that his plans stopped there. The episode at Battle Park happened on instinct, something Seth was not accustomed to. Remembering his lone ally, he began frantically searching the rooms, finally ending up at the top of the stairs.

“Lindsay?” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Lindsay?”

A muted reply came from the girl’s room.

“Lindsay, is that you?”

“Seth?” a high-pitched voice returned. “Let me out!”

“You can’t open the door?”

“No, they locked me in,” Lindsay explained. “I’m grounded!”

“How do I get you out?”

“There’s a key in the ceramic bowl,” she walked him through, “on the table to your left.”

“Got it,” he said, anxiously jiggling the key into the hole.

Once freed, little Lindsay burst through the door with tears rolling down her puffy cheeks. Seth grabbed her and bent down to face her.

“Are you ok?” he asked, pushing her bangs from her eyes.

“I’m... “ Lindsay froze when she glimpsed the Rensen Device in Seth’s other hand. “Oh my god, where did you get that?”

“Lindsay,” Seth started to tell the story tactfully, “your father was shooting people left and right. I had to do something...“

But with those words the girl immediately bucked up. The tears seemed to dry up instantly as a guarded but roguish smile swam across her face, reminiscent of her earlier changes in demeanor.

“What did you do?”

“I regressed him, back into a child I think,” Seth said, watching the satisfaction wash over the young girl. “I didn’t mean to go that far, but...“

Lindsay interrupted Seth’s tale with a delighted, girlish laugh. “How young?!”

“I don’t know. I lost him before the regression was complete and now I need your help, all right?”

She hushed up, wiping her nose.

“Eventually your father will make his way back here and you’re the only one I can trust around here, so if you’ll just tell me how...“

“Way ahead of you,” Lindsay said, taking the device and flipping it over. “This dial controls the projected age.” (She suppressed her inner glee at the current setting: 5.3 years.) “This slider controls the intensity of the beam and the display on this side blinks red if the conversion is complete.”

Feeling reasonably confident he understood, Seth took the gun and spun the age setting to twenty-three.

“Well, punishment time is over,” he said, standing back up and aiming the device at the eager, bucktoothed seven-year-old.

“Wait!” she screamed, darting back into to her room. “Not with these clothes on!”

With that Lindsay shut the door, hastily stripped off her child-sized shirt and pants, and wrapped herself in her cartoon bed sheets. Content with her makeshift attire, she opened the door and announced she was ready.

“Go!”

The beam fired, sending a hot tingling sensation throughout her body. Seth recognized subtle changes right away, though it took thirty seconds or so before the progression went full tilt. The preteen Seth met the night before reappeared, but only momentarily. In under a minute Lindsay blossomed through puberty, her youthful features dissolving into those of a young teen. Soon a pair of breasts began slowly pushing the fabric out as her figure took shape.

“It’s working...” Seth sighed in relief.

Gradually Lindsay grew to resemble the photograph she had shown him. Her brunette locks curled and spiraled down her shoulders, lending her a decidedly adult new appearance. By alteration’s end, Lindsay emerged a completely different person - mature, sexy, and eye to eye with her rescuer.

“So,” Lindsay said, breaking the silence, “what do you think?”

Grinning slightly, Seth cocked his head like a photographer and echoed the famous line from Jaws. “I think we’re going to need some bigger clothes.”

“Agreed,” Lindsay said. “Downstairs. My mom stashes my old clothes in her walk-in closet.”

Dragging her twisted sheets down the stairs while covering the important parts, Lindsay then led the way to her parents’ bedroom. Once inside, Seth was struck by the number of religious paintings and crosses wallpapering the room. Observing a large oak crucifix hanging directly above the headboard, he wondered how the Tierneys ever managed to get aroused, much less conceive a child.

“What’s with all the religious art?” he asked, hearing Lindsay flip through the hangers inside the closet.

“Dad didn’t say anything?”

“No, about what?”

“Daddy is fundie, through and through,” she explained, closing the door and stripping once again. “We go to church constantly. He thinks the device was a gift from God.”

“Really.” Seth tapped curiously on the wooden monstrosity. “Funny he didn’t mention that.”

“Well he probably didn’t want to scare you off. Big city types, you know.”

As she spoke, Seth moved in for a closer look at a vintage lamp beside the bed. Something small and dark appeared to be hanging inside. Reaching just past the bulb he confirmed that a small metal chain looped around the main frame. At the end Seth discovered a single silver key.

Materializing in her new age-appropriate wardrobe, Lindsay turned off the closet light and grabbed Seth’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Hey, wait. What’s this?”

Turning around to examine the find, Lindsay’s eyes became large. Without a word she took the key from Seth and led him back down the hallway and to the basement door.

“If this is what I think it is,” she said, “we’re in for some serious shit.” In addition to the curves, Lindsay’s new vocabulary established just how much the little girl had grown up in the last ten minutes. “Dad never lets anyone down here. He calls it ?the lab’ and says it’s none of our business.”

Fitting the key perfectly in the lock, Lindsay smiled devilishly. “Let’s take a peek.”

At the bottom of the ancient staircase was a pristine white laboratory, lined with an array of desks, boxy old computers, and stacks of paper. In the adjacent room stood an intimidating metal cylinder encased in a steel frame. A basic LED readout on the side appeared to be blank but activated. Seth drew closer and noticed a series of marks etched on the side: TX.5.1.14. Beside it the word “Baudrillard.”

A engraved plaque on the wall contained a rather ominous quote from the philosopher Thomas Hobbes: “During the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that conditions called war; and such a war, as if of every man, against every man.”

“What the hell could he possibly want with all this?” Seth wondered aloud, tracing the edge of the plaque with his finger.

“You got me,” Lindsay said, walking around to the other side of a gold-plated mahogany desk. “Hey, check this out.”

On the desktop sat a strangely fashioned box with an L-shaped indentation. Tiny electrodes dotted the hollowed out portion. Studying the contraption for a moment, Seth realized what the shape resembled. Carefully placing the Rensen Device into the box, he knew his hunch was correct.

“This is a recharger,” he guessed, pointing to the green panel now lit on the side. “It fits perfectly.”

“Holy shit, what’s that?” Lindsay asked, finally checking out the giant steel apparatus. “He said his great grandfather finished his research fifty years ago. Why would he need all this?”

“Maybe he’s following in his great grandfather’s footsteps,” Seth suggesting, stepping over a pile of thick red binders.

“It looks like a bomb or something,” Lindsay remarked, circling the six-foot-tall capsule. All her life she figured the Rensen Device was the only such machine in existence, the lone working invention Reginald Tierney ever produced. But seeing the capsule, completely unworn from the years, she felt a brick hit her stomach.

Maybe her father had more in mind than a simple age-changing gun.

“This thing must weight two tons,” Seth estimated. “Any ideas?”

Contemplating the possible meaning behind the device made Lindsay a little queasy. Her entire life her father had kept the laboratory top secret, pretending it was nothing but a little private room for “man” stuff. Though she knew better, she never expected such an assortment of anonymous projects.

“I really don’t want to know,” Lindsay said. “This place is creeping me out. Maybe we should get out of here.”

“Yeah, your father...“ Seth paused mid-sentence.

“What is it?”

A very familiar sensation sped down his arms, past his elbows, and into his hands. He glanced back at the doorway and saw Lindsay’s mother, holding the device.

“You shouldn’t leave these things lying around.”

“Mom!” Lindsay yelled, just moments before the same prickling feeling crawled down her body.

“Please,” Seth pleaded, “I’m sorry I...“

“Excuses, excuses,” Gwen sang, sending twin pulses into the curious pair. “You’re just like my daughter, Mr. Travers. It appears you both need to be disciplined.”

Already Seth could sense his whole body lightening, aging backward into his inelegant teen years. In a few seconds his shirt sleeves would begin steadily worming their way over his wrists and hands. At the same time, Lindsay cascaded back down into her mid-teens, regaining the innocent cuteness she had so recently shed. The effect was surreal for the pair, watching each other slip closer and closer to childhood.

“Mrs. Tierney.” Seth cleared his shrinking throat. “We can all be reasonable about this.”

“Can we now?”

The transformation showed no signs of slowing.

“Mom, don’t!” cried a twelve-year-old Lindsay.

As the seconds ticked off, Seth noticed a significant change in the process, a vague sickness that accompanied his journey backward into preadolescence. Suddenly his height shot down and his perspective shifted. His muscles clenched as his body became shorter and stockier. With his khakis now a wrinkled pool on the floor, Seth passed rapidly into the single digits. On the other end of the capsule was a half-clothed six-year-old girl, fighting back tears.

“I expected better from you, Mr. Travers,” Gwen said, finally dropping the device to her side, a prominent red light blinking on its side. “But I don’t appreciate people turning my husband into a kid.”

Seth adjusted his head to stare up at the much-taller matriarch.

“You just had to push it, didn’t you?” she said, closing in on the shocked seven-year-old.

“We can work this out...“ Seth whined in his new boyish tenor. “Please.”

“Oh, I think we just have, Mr. Travers.” She circled him. “In a moment, you’ll be three years old. You and my daughter.”

Seth found himself hyperventilating from the panic. The tail end of his shirt caressing the ground, he couldn’t be older than five. He no longer recognized his own voice and the world seemed much larger.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Gwen asked, a sinister sarcasm creeping in. “To be with Lindsay? Well, now you can be together all you want.”

When the regression finally came to a halt, the two toddlers sat on their butts, surrounded by mountains of former apparel, staring in disbelief at one another.

“Now, before I turn you into babies,” Gwen said matter-of-factly, gathering Lindsay’s clothes and slinging them over her arm, “I’ll want some answers.”

Soon another visitor joined them, clad only in a gigantic white button-down shirt.

“Honey?” Gwen said, seeing her little husband hobble into the basement lab accompanied by a gaudy middle-aged woman in high heels. “Don’t worry, we caught them.”

“We found him outside the bank like this,” Marcie said.

Relieved but still reeling from his own ordeal, George declined to speak, no doubt ashamed of his current stature. Instead he motioned for Marcie to exit and glared up at his wife expectantly.

“Thank you, Marcie, I’ll see that he gets back to the right age.”

As their good Samaritan climbed the stairs, Gwen commenced the aging process, which would return Mr. Tierney to his usual forty. As his height began inching up and his baby fat melted away, Gwen busied herself by dumping Lindsay’s clothes into a laundry basket and picking up the naked child, easily toting her across the room on one arm. By the time George reached eight, his lack of clothing below the waist became obvious and he promptly departed the scene.

“Some clean underwear is on the dresser, ok honey?”

“All right,” a ten-year-old George answered in a boyish voice still untouched by puberty.

“As for you two kids,” Gwen continued her spiel, “I think a bath might be in order.”

As Seth endeavored to stand on his new rickety three-year-old legs, Mrs. Tierney walked over and kneeled down next to him - a sight that sent shivers through the former “big city” magazine writer.

“You won’t be needing this,” she said, peeling the tent-like shirt off him. Underneath were the chubby tummy of young child and a tiny set of privates Seth rapidly covered with his right hand.

“Aww, a modest one?” Gwen mockingly sympathized. “Diapers will cover that right up.”

Grabbing Seth’s little hand, she towed the youngster out into the larger basement, still carrying Lindsay with her other arm.

“Welcome to the family.”[/quote][/quote][/quote]

 

---