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Chapter 16 -  Glad You’re Back, Sparky.

They’d been in the car, en route from the airport, for more than fifteen minutes before Qianna realized something wasn’t right. From what her sister had told her, Britin was fairly close to the airport. The big old house Quinne and her father had lived in since she was a baby was located at the extreme edge of the city’s western suburbs, not that far from the West Virginia border. Since the airport had been built on the northwest edge of town, it was actually quicker to get from there to Britin than it was to drive all the way into the city. And when the wooded farmland they’d been driving through started to look more populated, Qianna knew something was up.

She pulled out her phone, tapped at the right places to bring up the maps app, and easily discovered her hunch had been correct. They were headed the opposite direction from the house she’d thought they’d be going to. Thank you, modern technology, for the heads up.

“Why are we heading into town, Pops?”

“Did you seriously think you were going to get away with being gone an entire summer without your Grandma Debbie throwing you a surprise welcome home party?” Brian replied, sounding completely disgusted by the prospect.

“She didn’t have to do all that,” Qianna spoke up, trying to politely demur even though she was secretly delighted by the prospect of a party in her honor.

“Yeah, YOU try telling her that,” Brian actually snorted a tiny huff of laughter at such a preposterous idea. “Hell, it was all I could do to keep her from throwing a Get Well Soon party every time you stubbed your toe as a baby. There was no way I was holding her back from this one. And then, of course, Michael insisted it would be more fun if we surprised you. I do not understand how he got it into his head that surprise parties are a good idea, but you’d think he’d have learned by now after virtually every surprise party he’s ever tried to throw turned into an epic disaster. But, no, and everybody else seemed to think it was a brilliant idea too. And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, Emmett decided to get involved. The next thing you knew he was clicking his heels together, saying ‘there’s no place like home’, and planning a Wizard of Oz themed extravaganza. I’m disgusted with the entire bunch of them . . . But, I’m also rather fond of my one remaining good ball, which Debbie threatened to personally remove from my body with her bare hands if I didn’t agree to get you there. So, surprise!”

“I’m sure we’ll suffer through somehow. After all, I wouldn’t want Grandma Debbie coming after the family jewels,” Qianna responded with a giggle she just couldn’t hold back; cursing was one thing, but discussing your purported father's genitals was a little too much for her.

“See what I meant by the blonde thing? It’s happening already. My brown-haired Spark would never have giggled like that.”

Wisely, Qianna chose not to say anything further until they arrived about fifteen minutes later on Debbie Novotny‘s doorstep.

“Surprised faces ready,” Brian ordered, then he twisted the door knob and pushed through the screen door, loudly proclaiming his cover story. “I know you’re tired and would rather just go straight home, Spark, but I don’t want to cook tonight and Debbie said she would have a lasagna ready for us, so…”

“SURPRISE!!!!”

The roar of greeting was followed almost immediately by a cacophony of voices, each trying to outdo the other in order to garner Qianna‘s attention. Even though she had spent weeks memorizing photos and names for all these people, they came at her so fast she didn’t have a chance to distinguish one from the other. They all wanted to hug or kiss her. Or both. All Qianna could do was smile and nod vaguely at all of their well wishes.

“Out of the way. Out. Of. The. Way! Let me in to give my granddaughter a welcome home hug!” a boisterous contralto voice decreed as a red bewigged beldame shouldered her way through the crowd to get to Qianna. “Well, look at you! My little Einstein looks fucking gorgeous! Come here and give your grandma a hug. I missed you, Kiddo.”

The next thing Qianna knew, two strong arms were wrapped around her neck and constricting her breathing like an anaconda attacking its prey.

“Hugging her to death is really not the best way to welcome her home, Deb,” Brian advised as he helped to peel the arms away.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Honey. But I just missed you something awful,” Debbie apologized and then reached up to roughly wipe the smudge of red lipstick off Qianna’s cheek.

“Girl, can I just say, I LOVE the hair, with a capital love!” a tall lanky man with a huge gap-toothed smile announced from where he was standing behind Debbie’s left shoulder. “You look so elegant. Like Marilyn, only cuter. And younger of course.”

“Don’t encourage her, Honeycutt,” Brian ordered with his best frown directed Emmett’s way.

“Oh, pshaw! Don’t listen to him, Sweetie. We ALL know our Big Bad loves blonds even though he pretends not to. And don’t call me ‘Honeycutt’ or I’ll tell the girl all the rest of your secrets, Kinney.”

Brian made a show of holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender and slowly backing away from the group standing around Qianna.

“Personally, I love blonds,” declared a towering hunk of muscle-bound man-meat who came up behind Emmett, wrapped his arms around the man’s middle and bent down to nibble affectionately at the long, slender neck. “Especially ones that taste like sugar cookies.”

“That would be Aunt Lula’s spice rum gingersnaps, to be precise. I don’t make just plain old sugar cookies, dear,” Em insisted as he angled his neck further to the right so that Drew could have better access for his nibbling.

“I think I have to agree with Brian on this one,” said a short, dark-haired man with abundant laugh wrinkles lining his big brown eyes. “I don’t think you have the coloring to pull off blonde, Quinne.”

However, from the dissenting murmurs of those standing around examining her ‘new’ look, it was readily apparent that most of the group disagreed with this negative conclusion.

“What are you talking about, Michael? She seems to pull it off just fine to me,” insisted a trim, silver fox of a man. “You know, if anything, I think she looks better with the blond hair. It gives her a whole new . . . Something. Hmmm. I can’t put my finger on it, but you just look different somehow, Quinne. Your cheeks look ruddier - fuller even - and with the way your eyes light up when you smile like that . . .” Ted paused, apparently stretching his memory before the answer dawned on him. “You know who she reminds me of with the blond hair and all? She looks a lot like Ju . . .”

“Uh, Teddy, Hon, can you come help me finish setting the table,” interrupted a slim, younger, dark-blond man, who actually tugged Ted’s arm hard enough to pull him off balance before he could fully voice whatever he’d been about to blurt out.

“Oh. Yeah. Good idea, Blake.” Ted smiled sheepishly before letting himself be led off by his husband, presumably to do something that didn’t involve sticking his foot in his mouth.

“Personally, I would’ve expected fuschia or blue or something,” commented an auburn-haired boy that looked so much like a younger carbon copy of Brian Kinney it was uncanny.

“Gus!” Qianna shouted, reaching out to hug the youth who was not only the one person she’d wanted to meet the most but also the easiest of all of them for her to recognize.

“That’s exactly what I said,” Brian added with a smile for his two hugging children. “Purple or blue or something I could’ve handled, but blonde? I did not see that coming.”

“Hey, Sparky,” Gus whispered in Qianna’s ear as she clung to him a little more desperately than was probably necessary. “I missed you too, Kiddo.” Then, in a louder voice, he asked, “so, how was college? Got any tips for me for when I move into the dorms at PIFA?”

“Yeah, make friends with all your neighbors right away, because the walls are super thin and if you don’t get along with them, they’ll make your life miserable,” Qianna advised with a grin. “Oh, and Pops said I was supposed to try and talk you out of taking too much shit with you, cuz those rooms are super tiny and it definitely won’t all fit. I could barely make it with only a suitcase of stuff, and I was only there a summer.”

“Well, you can tell Pops,” Gus shot a patented Kinney glare at his father, “that I’ve got it covered. I have plans and organizational storage tools. So you can both just butt out already, kay?”

Brian snorted dismissively and shook his head at his son. Gus rolled his eyes so hard they almost disappeared back into his skull. Qianna laughed, watching the two Kinney men trying to out-Kinney each other. Yep, these two were EVERYTHING her sister had told her they would be. She was in heaven here in the midst of this huge, happy, comfortable family. And she was even more jealous that she had never had anything like this for her own childhood.

“Okay, let’s move the reunion over to the table already,” Debbie stepped in and ordered them all towards the kitchen. “I didn’t slave away over a stove all day making Sparky’s favorite three-cheese lasagne just to have it go cold while you all stand around and flap your gums in the living room. Everybody get their asses to the table. Lindz, can you grab the salad over there? Carl, you’re in charge of the wine, Honey. Everyone else just get the fuck out of the way so we can work here!”

The entire houseful of people immediately followed their matriarch’s orders, shuffling over to squeeze their huge numbers around a table that looked far too small to accomodate them all. Somehow, though, they made it work. Qianna was seated next to Gus, of course, the two of them teasing and poking elbows into each other’s middles as they playfully jostled themselves into place. Brian was on Qianna’s other side, looking on at his silly offspring with an indulgent smile. Michael was on Brian’s other side and his husband Ben was in the chair next to him. Then came Drew, Emmett, Ted and Blake, like four peas in a pod. Lindsey, Jenny Rebecca and Melanie were squeezed in on the far side of the table. And then came the empty chair for Carl, who was still pouring wine and therefore couldn’t sit yet. The final spot - the chair closest to the stove, of course - was reserved for Debbie, who was too busy handing around food to bother sitting. Even for a regular sized dining room this would have been a lot of bodies to try and accommodate, but for the relatively modest little kitchen it felt like a crowd.

Qianna LOVED it.

“So, Sweetie, tell us everything you did this summer,” the brunette woman that Qianna recognized as Gus’ second mother asked. “Brian, as usual, only told us that you were being your usual brilliant self and then told us not to bother you. But from what Gus added, it sounds like you had a pretty great time.”

“I did. It was the BEST summer of my life,” Qianna raved in a very un-Quinne-like manner.

“Wow! The best summer ever? What did you do, discover the cure for cancer or something?” Gus teased her with yet another insistent elbow to her ribs.

“No. But we DID design the robot that won the robotics competition - for which I did all the coding, of course. AND, I learned Python and created this sweet database of all the music for our entire team, which I used to DJ a dance party that week. AND our team made a totally lit Rube Goldberg Machine which the Dean of the Engineering school said was the best he’d ever seen. He even offered to write everyone on our team letters of recommendation if we decide we want to go to School of Mines. AND we also did cool genetics stuff and epigenetics and chemistry and earth sciences and archeology and . . .”

“Shit, slow down, Speedy Gonzalez,” Brian joked as he passed the platter full of garlic bread to his overly-enthusiastic daughter. “They get the idea already, Spark. It was a STEM-kid’s dream summer.”

They all laughed and Qianna realized she was being way too Qianna-ish and needed to dial it down. “Yeah, well, it WAS pretty dope.”

“It sounds like it was an amazing camp,” Lindsey summed up for the whole family. “I’m glad you got the chance to experience all that, Honey. Now you have a better idea of all the opportunities out there that await you and you can figure out what you really want to concentrate on in High School and College. Maybe we’ll see if there’s something similar for JR to go to next summer.”

“As if . . .” Jenny Rebecca scoffed as she picked at the salad on her plate. “The only place I’m going next summer - like I’ve done every summer before, if you’ll remember - is gymnastics camp. I leave the science stuff to the brainiac over there.” She pointed with her fork towards Qianna. “My coach says I might even be able to qualify for Nationals this year if I really buckle down. That’s the only thing that matters. I don’t have time for a lot of boring shit like calculus.”

“Language, Honey,” Lindsey corrected, getting only an eye roll from her daughter, who went back to her salad. “You know we’re proud of you and your athletic ability, JR, but you can’t neglect your academic side either. We just want you to grow up well-rounded and have something to fall back on if gymnastics doesn’t pan out.”

Qianna thought Lindsey had a point. She didn’t think there were that many people who made an actual living doing gymnastics - not unless you were absolutely top of the top, and judging by Quinne’s comments, JR didn’t rate THAT high - and if you didn’t have a plan for what you’d do after a gymnastics career, you’d be selling used cars for the rest of your life. But, whatever. It wasn’t her place to be advising her step-sister about her career options.

Debbie, who’d finally taken up her seat, obviously still wanted to hear about the Science Camp though - they’d all heard about JR’s gymnastics shit more than enough times - and turned to her youngest grandchild. “Brian told us you’d won a special award or something, Honey. What did you get?”

“It’s no big deal - the camp just offered an award for the best student in each weekly unit. I got the one for the Coding Unit. Oh, and our team also won for the Engineering week, but that was a group thing,” Qianna answered humbly, more interested in the delicious lasagne at that moment than anything else. “Mmmm. This is SO good! I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so wonderful . . .”

“It’s the same lasagne Ma makes every family dinner,” Michael laughed at his niece with confusion. “You’ve had it, like, a thousand times, Sparky.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had real food like this all summer, so I’m just extra appreciative, I guess,” Qianna covered her little slip up as best she could.

“Then you eat up, Honey,” Debbie directed, spooning another heaping helping onto the girl’s plate. “I knew I should have sent a care package or two to that place.”

“How exactly did you plan on sending lasagne through the mail, Deb?” Ben teased his mother in law affably.

And then the conversation drifted off into the hundred and one other directions that family dinner conversations usually take. Qianna, who was still a little overwhelmed by this crew, was glad to have the spotlight taken off her. She listened avidly to all the talk going on around her, smiling and laughing along, but not saying much herself. She just wanted to sit and soak in the family-ness. She loved the warmth and companionship and love that seemed to envelope this whole house. It was so different than her past with her father. For most of her life it had just been the two of them. Or worse, the two of them and one of the string of loser boyfriends her father had tried out. Never had she experienced this level of family, though. Quinne better be careful or else Qianna wouldn’t ever agree to switch back.

When everyone had been thoroughly stuffed to the gills by Debbie, the family was finally allowed to retreat to the front room. Qianna ended up squished in the corner of the couch with Michael taking the spot next to her. He immediately picked up a ratty spiral notebook that was waiting on the coffee table and opened it to a page in the middle before turning to his niece.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sparky. I need you to go over our latest comic and do your editing thing. I want the new laser ice ray weapon I designed for IceTina to be realistic, you know? Our readers are such sticklers for that crap. You wouldn’t believe the negative reviews we get if they think the gadgets wouldn’t work in the real world. So, can you please read it over and tell me if it’s, like, at least reasonably plausible?”

“Sure thing,” Qianna agreed and took up the notebook.

To be honest, she’d never really been a huge fan of comic books. The storylines were generally too simplistic and didn’t hold her attention. Unfortunately, this one was even worse than most. And the rudimentary drawings were terrible. Quinne hadn’t mentioned much about her Uncle Michael’s comic book hobby, so she didn’t know if this was just a rough draft or if he thought he could publish this stuff. Wasn’t Gus supposedly helping out with the artwork? If so, the final drawings would hopefully be a lot better. If not, Michael would need a much better artist than this. The inner artist in her desperately wanted to take out a pencil and fix all the wonky angles and the incorrect perspectives, but she contented herself with merely reading through the script and only commenting on the technical stuff - at least to the best of her knowledge, seeing as she wasn’t exactly an expert on lasers or anything.

The ensuing discussion took far too long and Michael got way too into talking about the details of his plot for her liking, but Qianna didn’t know a polite way to get out of the conversation so she was trapped. Thank goodness that Gus came over just when she was about to die of boredom, bringing her a bowl of ice cream and telling Michael his mother wanted him to help out in the kitchen doing the dishes. As soon as the comic book author was gone, Gus took up his seat and gave his ‘sister’ a confused look.

“Did you suddenly develop an interest in superhero shit over the summer or something?” Gus asked.

“Hardly. I just didn’t know how to get him to stop talking,” Qianna answered honestly.

“Why didn’t you just get up and walk away? It’s what the rest of us always do,” Gus advised, still looking at her funny.

“I was about to, but then you showed up. Thanks for saving me, Bro.”

“Hmmmm,” was all Gus said as he looked into his ice cream bowl thoughtfully and fell silent again.

“You seem quieter than usual tonight, Sparky,” Grandpa Carl declared as he took a place in the recliner next to them with his own small bowl of dessert clutched in his arthritic hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Qianna answered, realizing that she was being a lot less talkative and outgoing than Quinne usually was - it’s just that she was so overwhelmed by all these new people and didn’t really know WHAT to say most of the time. “I guess I’m a little tired. I stayed up really late last night with my friends. It was the last night we had together, you know, so we didn’t want it to end. And then my roommate and I got up extra early so we could pack.”

“I think that’s MY cue to say goodnight and get my budding genius here home to bed,” Brian declared, standing up and putting the empty beer bottle he’d been sipping at on the table. “You two ready to go?”

Both Qianna and Gus nodded. QiQi offered to take Gus’ dish to the kitchen for him. Then they had to be hugged goodbye by everyone and Qianna was told all over again how glad they all were to have her home. Debbie had already packed up a huge bag of leftovers for them to take home, which made Qianna extra happy but caused Brian to grumble about carbs and calories under his breath. Gus didn’t say much, just took the bag from his grandmother’s hands and waited by the door.

“So glad you’re home, Sweetie. We really did miss you,” Debbie said for about the hundredth time before finally letting her go.

“I missed all of you too,” Qianna stated with a huge, sunshiney smiled beamed around at the entire group. “It’s good to be here finally.”

“Thanks for helping out with the comic,” Michael repeated, stepping up to say his own goodbyes. “I really appreciate it. We’re going to submit it to a new publisher next week. Hopefully we can increase our readership and your comments always make it better.”

“Anytime, Uncle Michael,” Qianna replied as politely as she could without pointing out how much she’d hated it.

“Thanks, Quinne! If you really mean it, though, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer and come by later in the week. Gus and I can show you the other stuff we’ve been working on!” Michael seemed really enthusiastic about her offer to help - enthusiastic enough that he couldn’t help himself and pulled her in for a huge bear hug. “Hey, did you shrink or something this summer?” he asked when she finally managed to get him to let her go.

“Huh?” she asked, momentarily caught off guard by the question.

“Yeah. You used to be taller when I hugged you, didn’t you?”

“I thought you wanted to go, Spark?” Brian interceded, thankfully, before she had to answer Michael’s awkward question.

“I do. I’m ready, Pops. Let’s go home.”

“Later, Mikey,” Brian said, offering his best friend a kiss goodbye and then waving to the rest of the group. “It’s been a slice, folks.”

They finally escaped to a chorus of ‘Byes’ from everyone inside, making their way to Brian’s Mercedes Benz GLE waiting at the curb. Gus seemed distracted and didn’t even argue when Qianna called ‘shotgun’. And when they got into the car Brian, who seemed to have had enough socialization for the day, immediately turned up the music and zoned out for the rest of the drive home. That was fine with Qianna, who wanted to just rehash the memories of the evening in her own mind and revel in her first night of true family fun.

The drive out to the country didn’t take long at that time on a weeknight, and a half hour later they were rolling into the garage at Britin. Despite the fact that Quinne had tried to warn her, Qianna was awed by the size of the house. It was this huge, sprawling, half-timbered, tudor-style mansion with a huge front entrance hall and two equally large wings to each side. No wonder it had its own name - the place was probably almost large enough to have its own zip code, judging by what Qianna could see of it in the dark. She wondered how much money Brian must have to be able to afford a place like this, even in Pittsburgh with its relatively low cost of living.

Brian helped her out by carrying her suitcase inside, so Qianna only had her messenger bag. Gus was toting an overnight bag of his own. They all three made their way into the back of the house and through the kitchen to the big front staircase.

“I’m beat, Kiddos,” Brian confessed as he dropped his daughter’s case at the foot of the stairs. “I’m going to go get an hour in on the stairmaster to burn off the damn pasta and then crash. You two have fun.” Then he turned to Qianna with a smile and added, “it’s good to have you home finally, Spark.”

“Thanks, Pops. I’m glad to be here.”

“You okay, Sonnyboy?” Brian asked his son who still hadn’t said a word since they’d got in the car at Debbie’s.

“Yeah. Night, Pops.”

“Night, Kiddos.”

Qianna was feeling a little tired herself, even though what she really wanted to do was explore the house. She figured she’d have time to do that tomorrow, though, after Brian was gone to work. Which would be better, because then she could have the whole place to herself. So it was probably best to just head to bed now herself. Assuming, that is, she could remember how to get to Quinne’s bedroom.

“Nite, Gus,” she said around a yawn that threatened to choke off her words.

Then she picked up the forgotten suitcase along with her carry on bag and started up the stairs. She took a right at the top landing and carefully counted the doors along the hall till she was reasonably sure she’d made it to Quinne’s room. When she twisted open the handle and found a room decorated with a familiarly feminine flair, she sighed with relief, assured she’d found the right place. It was a huge room, with it’s own attached bathroom, and of course it was decorated with Quinne’s comfortable yet modern taste. Qianna loved it at first sight. She was really going to love it here.

But she’d barely set the suitcase on the bed in preparation for unpacking when the door to her room opened again and, without bothering to knock, Gus barged in. Qianna was alarmed by the angry dark look on the boy’s face as he strode up to her, stopping only centimeters away and leaning down to glare directly in her face. Whatever he was about to say was obviously not going to be good.

“Who the FUCK are you and where’s my sister?” he hissed at her, the vitriol in his tone making up for the lack of volume in conveying exactly how furious he was.

“I . . . I . . . I don’t know . . . W-w-what are you talking about, Gus?” she stuttered, unprepared for how to answer this attack.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he insisted, poking a finger into her chest with each word he uttered. “You’re a fucking imposter. Now, where the FUCK is my sister? She better not be hurt or anything or I’m going to beat the crap out of you before I call the cops.”

“Shit! How did you know?” was the first thing that came out of Qianna’s mouth, which only further infuriated her accuser, causing him to grab hold of her arm as if to pull her out of the room. “Stop. Just . . . Just hang on a minute. Please, Gus.” He didn’t relent a bit, still tugging her along even though she was trying to dig in her feet. “Gus! Stop already! I can explain. I promise. Just STOP!”

“You better fucking talk fast, because you’ve got two minutes.”

“Shit. Fine. Hold on, okay,” Qianna pleaded looking him earnestly in the eye until Gus finally relented and let go of her.

Qianna immediately reached into her bag and pulled out her tablet. A couple of taps and she had her contacts list opened, allowing her to initiate a video call to ‘Q1’. Luckily the call went right through and was picked up on the third ring.

Before Quinne could say anything, Qianna was talking. “We’ve got a problem. Everyone bought it except for ONE person,” she explained.

“Did you slip up and call Pops ‘Dad’ again?” the voice on the other end of the call asked.

“No! It’s not your dad. He and I got on great. It’s your brother.”

Qianna turned the tablet around so that Gus could finally see the face that went along with the voice, although he’d already halfway guessed by that point.

“Quinne? Is that REALLY you?”

“Of course it is, you dweeb.”

“See? That's why I knew she wasn’t you - you NEVER called me by my name. You’re always giving me shit and calling me dweeb or asshat or jerkwad or worse,” Gus explained how they’d been found out.

“Damn. You mean I got caught because I was being too nice? That sucks,” Qianna griped, falling back onto Quinne’s bed in a snit.

“Well, yeah. MY sister would never politely sit and listen to uncle Mikey babbling on about superheroes for twenty-five minutes. Plus, you didn’t give any of the uncles shit for making kissy face the whole night long or complain about Grandma Debbie pinching your cheeks or tease Pops about eating carbs after seven or . . . Well, anything you’d normally do,” Gus elaborated before hesitantly sitting down on the bed next to the doppelgänger. “So where exactly are you, Quinne? And who the hell is this? You didn’t clone yourself while you were at that camp or something, did you?”

Both girls broke out laughing at that unlikely supposition, their nearly identical peals of amusement giving Gus yet another reason to look quizzical.

“No, we didn’t clone ourselves, but you’re getting closer,” Quinne started to explain. “Gus, I’d like you to meet Qianna - our other sister and my fraternal twin.”

Qianna waved at him with a huge smile on her face. “Hi! Surprise!”

“What the fuck!” Gus was understandably incredulous. “Are you fucking pulling my leg? How the hell did this happen?”

“That’s a really, really, REALLY good question,” Qianna admitted. “We wanna know how it happened too. Which is one of the reasons why I’m here and Quinne is at my house in California.”

“Wait. This is real? You two are, like, twins?”

“Yep. We’ve got the DNA tests to prove it,” Quinne assured her disbelieving brother. “As for how, we’re not exactly sure. The best we can tell, it’s what’s known as heteropaternal superfecundation - that’s when two separate ova are fertilized by different fathers in the same pregnancy.”

“Hetero-what? You know I don’t speak science, Sparky. What does that mean in plain English?”

“It means,” Qianna stepped in, “That we have the same mother and were born at the same time but we’ve got two different fathers. Quinne’s father is the same as yours; Brian Kinney.”

“And Qianna’s father is . . . Can I get a drumroll please, QiQi?” Qianna obliged by rattling her index fingers against the headboard of the bed. “. . . Justin Taylor!”

“No SHIT! Your dad is Justin Taylor? THE Justin Taylor? The animator? Seriously? That’s so fucking sweet!” Gus began raving at the news that the daughter of his idol was apparently, somehow, his newest sister, while the girls giggled in the background. “So you must be the camp roommate, right? We talked that one time a few months back. I never did get my autograph, you know.”

“Sorry. It kinda slipped my mind, what with plotting to switch parents and all,” Qianna apologized.

“Yeah, so, what’s up with that, anyway?” Gus asked.

“Well, this is what we were hoping . . .”

And the girls proceeded to enlighten their brother on the plan to uncover the mystery of Brian and Justin and the secret twin separation.

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