by Andrea Ring
I stand up and pull a folded sheet of paper from my back pocket. I hand it to her. “This is my bank statement from this morning.”
She stares at it. “You…you have $1,328,767.42 in your bank account.” Then she laughs. “Are you one of those actors on the Disney channel?”
I smile. “No. I’m sort of a child prodigy. I do medical research. Several of my patents are starting to pay off.”
“I’ll say,” she says. Then she pulls out a notepad and pen. “I feel like I have an obligation to help you here. Let me start by talking to your father and making sure he’s okay with this. Then I want to educate you a bit on home ownership. The costs don’t end with the purchase. I’m sensing that you just want a place of your own and haven’t really thought this through.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, bummed about being so easy to read.
“Honey, I’ve been doing this for thirty years. Let’s call your dad.”
***
Dad is a bit taken aback at my sudden urge to buy a home, but he assures Sharon, my new real estate agent, that I’m legit and that he will handle the legal end of things when I’m ready to buy.
She spends a good hour going over home ownership with me—insurance, taxes, utilities, the pros and cons of buying a fixer-upper, even a mini lecture on keeping termites in check.
“And now,” she says, “I want to mention one more thing. I work on commission, so I won’t get paid for any time I spend with you unless you buy a house.”
“Oh, I’m quite serious about buying a house,” I say.
She nods. “I believe you are. Sometimes, a buyer just can’t find the right house, and there’s no deal. That can happen, and I’m okay with that. But sometimes, a buyer will go looking at houses on their own, they might stumble into an open house on a Sunday, and fall in love with the house. Of course, you can look on your own all day long, but if you don’t use me for the purchase, I won’t get paid. I’m happy to help, but I still have to eat.”
I smile at her. “I get it. I promise you, I will not purchase a home without you. No matter what.”
Sharon sniffs. “Thank you. Now, I know what you’re looking for, so let me do some research, set up some appointments, and I’ll give you a call. You said you’re only available nights and weekends?”
“Yes, I work full time. Is there nothing we can see today?”
Her face softens when she sees the disappointment in my eyes. I really want to look at houses.
“There are two that are vacant that might work. They’re not exactly what you’re looking for, but it’ll be educational. Let me—”
“Take him over to see my new listing,” a voice says, and we both turn around to see who’s talking.
“You have a new one, Sal?” Sharon says.
“What price range are you looking at?” he asks.
“Under a million,” I say.
“Hmm. This one’s a million two. But there’s room to negotiate.”
Sharon stands. “We’ll take a look so we can compare. It will be good for you to see what you get for that much money. Let me grab my purse.”
Sharon disappears, and Sal offers me his hand. “Sal Meroni,” he says.
“Thomas Van Zandt. It’s a pleasure.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Thomas Van Zandt? You’re the one who healed Olivia!”
I smile. “You know the Brooks family?”
“I’ve worked with Cy for years. It’s his house I’ve got on the market.”
“He’s selling his home in Orange Park Acres?”
“No, it’s a rental property he just acquired last year. Market’s hot, though, so I told him it’s time to sell. It’s over on Afton. You know the street?”
My heart stutters. I feel faint. “Yes, I…I know it.”
“It’s in primo condition, five bedrooms, pretty new kitchen, gorgeous pool. It’d be a great place to raise a family.”
I slowly stand as I process this. “And it’s listed for a million two?”
“Yep. A great price.”
“Cyrus bought it for $900,000.”
Sal laughs. “You’ve done your research. I’m impressed. But he’s carried the house for almost a year now. Upgraded appliances. Paint.”
“Call him now,” I say. “I want to make an offer.”
“You haven’t even seen the house,” Sal says.
“I’m familiar with the house. Tell him I’ll give him $1,000,000. Cash. And Sharon’s my agent, so he has to pay her commission.”
***
Dad met me at the Afton house after work, and we met with Sharon and Sal and signed paperwork. I bought my first house. And it only cost me $500,000. Because I saved his daughter’s life, Cyrus wouldn’t take a penny more.
We get home well after eight, and I find Tessa at the kitchen table slurping chicken noodle soup.
I kiss the top of her head. “Feeling any better?”
“Much,” she says. “I took a shower. I feel human again.”
I finger my new house keys in my pocket. “Are you up for an outing?”
“If it’s not too taxing.”
I grab the paper bag I left on the counter, and rummage in the cupboards for two champagne glasses. Then I grab her hand. “Let’s go.”
Tessa is chatty until we pull onto Afton. “What are we doing here?”
I don’t say anything.
And then we pull into the driveway.
“Why are we here?”
“Come on.”
We walk up the front steps, and I juggle my bag as I pull out my keys.
“You have keys? Why?”
I open the door. I lead Tessa to the kitchen, open the bottle of sparkling apple cider I brought, and pour two glasses. I hand her one and clink my glass to hers.
“Congratulations,” I say. “We are now the proud owners of your childhood home.”
Tessa’s glass trembles in her hand. She sets it down and runs off to her old room.
Damn.
Chapter Six
Tessa is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. I note the walls of her room are still bright orange—Cyrus painted the house, my foot.
“Everything okay?” I ask, leaning back against the wall.
She turns to me. “Why didn’t you ask me before you bought the house?”
I lower my eyes. “It was a completely impulsive decision. I heard it was on the market and bought it. I thought you’d be happy about it.”
“I…I don’t know how I feel,” she says.
“Talk to me.”
“All the memories…Dad…everything just came flooding back. I don’t know if I can live here.”
“I’m sorry, Tessa,” I whisper. “I didn’t think this through.”
“You honestly thought I’d be happy here?”
I shrug. “Well, yeah. You had a happy childhood. You didn’t want to leave. I assumed your mom would be happy if we raise a family here. I mean, it’s a great house.”
“With the specter of my dad living here.”
I blow out a breath. “I’ll sell it. It’s no big deal. We can look for a new place together—”
“No.”
I cross the room and squat down next to her. “No?”
She shakes her head. “You know me better than anyone, better than I know myself. If you think I can be happy here, I trust you.”
I hug her tight and we roll on the floor. Tessa laughs. I bend over her and brush the hair out of her eyes. “Tell you what? We’ll totally re-do it and make it ours. Matt’s old room can be your studio. Ian’s room can be my office. Sam’s room can be where I sculpt. We don’t need a stuffy living room, so we can make it a library.”
“That’s not stuffy,” she says with a laugh.
I ignore her comment. “We can paint every room a different color, and I’ll have all your paintings professionally framed and hung with the proper lighting. Maybe—”
“Ohhh, a movie theater!” Tessa exclaims. “The den can be a movie theater
! With those cool leather chairs that have cup holders, and we can buy a popcorn machine.”
I laugh. “Done!”
Tessa throws her arms back around me. “It’s gonna be okay, isn’t it?”
I pull back to look her in the eye. “Yes. It’s you and me. It’s gonna be great.”
Chapter Seven
Instead of going to school, Tessa takes one more sick day and drags her mom over to our new house. Erica is ecstatic that we bought her old home, and insists on helping with the renovations.
Fine by me. I love the idea of the renovations, but the actual work? Not so much.
I have work of my own.
The last six months, I’ve dedicated my lab time to one project and one project only: genetic engineering. I want to be able to replace someone’s faulty DNA with modified and improved DNA. Say someone is genetically coded to develop cancer—if I can manipulate the DNA to eliminate that cancer coding, then that person won’t get cancer. Sounds easy enough.
Except DNA is the most complicated thing I have ever studied. Changing it, knowing which sequences need to change, is a time-consuming process. And even when I nail down what I want to change, there’s no guarantee I can get it into existing cells and make it stick. Sometimes the DNA dissolves itself. Sometimes the immune system kicks in and attacks it. Sometimes the cells just don’t want to accept it.
Sometimes, it works. I now have straight pinkie fingers, even though I was born with crooked ones. Yippee. Too bad there’s absolutely zero medical need for straight pinkies.
The pinkie experiment was only the second genetic engineering experiment I’ve conducted on a living human being (myself, obviously). The first was with Tyrion, right before they separated his body from Dacey’s. I tried to make him a Dweller so that he could finish healing his body on his own.
It didn’t work. Dacey’s immune system kicked in and started attacking Tyrion’s body before I could finish the procedure. We had to separate them before any major damage was done to Tyrion’s body.
But the pinkie experiment did work. Took me five full-blown trials to get it right. I never expected it to take that long, and I need to step up my game, and fast. People are counting on me to save their lives. People…well, two people in particular.
Tessa and Erica.
Tessa was born with the genetic coding for Huntington’s Disease after inheriting it from Erica. Dad’s currently controlling Erica’s symptoms, but there will be a point where either the disease takes over or Dad’s gone. And Tessa…I refuse to let her get to that point. Huntington’s usually kicks in around age 30, but it can start earlier. Basically, the disease causes degeneration of the nerve cells in the brain. This can lead to the loss of just about any function, but typically you see twitching and spasms, memory and concentration loss, trouble walking, even trouble swallowing. Over time, these patients basically turn into vegetables.
I refuse to let that happen to the two most important women in my life.
I’m so close. I’ve got the process down. I know how to fine-tune their DNA to eliminate the Huntington’s threat.
The sticking point is the rest of the human body. You can’t always predict how the body will react.
The first time I tried replacing my DNA, my immune system attacked with impressive strength. My face was so swollen I looked like I’d been stung by a horde of angry bees. Then my skin started to peel off. I looked like a living zombie.
I refuse to put Erica and Tessa through something like that.
So I have to refine. I have to conduct more experiments. I have to make sure I have the immune system under control. I actually have a list of thirty-four things that have to happen before I can actually try to re-code Tessa.
Actually, I have to break the news to Tessa about her condition first.
Make that thirty-five.
***
I enter the Planarian Institute and pour myself a cup of coffee. I find Dr. Kenneth Mullen hunched over a microscope.
“Morning, Kenneth,” I say.
He looks up and scrubs a hand over his eyes. “I think I’ve been here too long. My eyes are playing tricks on me.”
“Don’t tell me you pulled another all-nighter?”
He grins. “Kate’s gonna be pissed. I told her I’d be home around midnight.”
“I’m surprised she’s not here,” I say. “She usually beats me in.”
“She had an early morning at the hospital,” he says. Then he stands up and waves me over to his stool. “Look at this damn thing and tell me I’m not crazy.”
I sit, peer into the scope, and adjust the focus. I see liver cells and…wait. They’re multiplying while I watch.
I jerk my head up. “You did it! This is it!”
“I did?” Kenneth looks dazed.
I jump up and grab his shoulders. “They’re growing! They’re dividing! Holy crap, Kenneth, you did it!”
He breaks out in a grin and grabs my shoulders. “We did it! Yes, yes, yes!”
And we’re hopping around in a circle and whooping and hollering, and Kenneth throws his arms around me in a bear hug and we cling and jump and laugh until we’re both so exhausted we fall in a giggling heap on the floor.
“Oh my God, Kate’s gonna be so pissed she missed this,” he says.
I fall back and stare at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “I can’t believe it. You finally got it to work. I’m just…in awe.”
Kenneth grins and climbs to his feet. He holds out a hand and pulls me up. “We did it,” he says. “We. Not me, not you, not Kate, all of us. We.”
I go back to the scope and take another look. “It’s grown so much the slide is pressing on the end of the scope. Let’s move it to a dish.”
“No need,” he says. “I’ve got a full-blown liver working over here.”
We peer side-by side at the dish of liver cells. “It’s, what? Ten millimeters now? Awesome!”
“At this rate, we should have a liver in less than a week,” Kenneth says.
“Add more protein,” I say. “See if that speeds things up.”
“Hmm, I don’t want to mess with what we have going.” He takes the slide of liver cells off the microscope and puts them in another dish. “We can try it on these.”
Chapter Eight
“Dad! Dad!” I slam the front door shut and continue to scream. “Dad!”
Dad and Erica come running out from the bedroom hallway, Emmaleth wailing on Erica’s shoulder.
“Thomas! Quit yelling! You woke the baby!” Dad scolds.
I smile. “Sorry. Big news here.”
“Big news?” Erica says. She bounces up and down on the balls of her feet to try to calm the baby.
“We got my protein to work,” I say. “We’re growing a liver!”
Dad grins and throws an arm over my shoulder. “That’s fantastic, Thomas! Awesome! Congratulations!” He squeezes me tight to his side. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”
I beam at him.
Erica clears her throat. “So…do you think…will this help her? Us?”
I hold my hands out to her and she passes Emmaleth to me. I put her to my shoulder and pat her back.
“It’s a start,” I say. “A great start. It’s not a cure, but we can definitely grow nerves this way.”
Erica gives me a half-hearted smile and nods. “Okay. Great. That’s great.”
I juggle the baby up higher and put a hand on Erica’s arm. “I’m still working at it. Every day. I will find a cure for you and Tessa. I promise you.”
“A cure for what?”
The three of us whirl around to find Tessa hovering in the doorway. I gulp.
“Hey, Tessa,” Dad says.
Tessa ignores him. “What cure?” she repeats.
Erica takes a step towards her, but then she freezes. She furrows her brow and makes a helpless mewing sound that is almost embarrassing in its emotion. She takes another step, opens her mouth, but no more sound comes out.
&nbs
p; “Here, Dad, take Em,” I say, handing over the baby. “Tessa and I need to talk.”
***
Tessa allows me to lead her to our bedroom. I shut and lock the door. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the space beside me. Tessa shakes her head and leans back against the door.
I almost sigh, but sighing conveys impatience, and that’s the very last thing I feel right now.
“So,” I say, “I have something to tell you.”
“Spit it out,” she snaps.
“You know that your mom’s family has a history of genetic disorders.”
“And?”
I swallow. Tessa’s not making this easy on me. I’m not used to hostility from her, but I admit I’ve earned it.
“When you were born, your parents had you tested for genetic diseases. They found…”
Tessa stares at me with her grass-colored eyes. “What?”
“It’s called Huntington’s Disease,” I say softly. “It comes from a mutation on chromosome 4. Symptoms include—”
“I know,” she says. Then she sinks to the floor and wraps her arms around her knees. “I know what it is.”
“How do you know?” I say automatically.
“You say that like you think I’m an idiot,” she says angrily. “Is it so hard to believe I actually know something?”
“Uh, no,” I say, fumbling. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s exactly what you meant. So you’re telling me I have Huntington’s.”
“The genetic mutation, yes. The disease won’t manifest for years, if you’re lucky.”
“Lucky,” she whispers. “How long have you known?”
I pick at the cuff of my sleeve. “A few months.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
Tessa lapses into silence, and I try to draw her eyes, but she’s staring intently at the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
She finally raises her head. “I’m fine. I’m no different than I was two minutes ago.”
“But you…you know about Huntington’s. Surely you must feel—”
“What, Thomas?” she growls. “What the fuck am I supposed to feel? You tell me, since you know everything. No, wait. I’m gonna tell you.” She climbs to her feet and glares at me. “I’ve known about Huntington’s since my mom got sick. I overheard her and Dad talking about it, and Dad explained everything to me. He told me I have the disease. I’ve known for years.”
