“Yes. The aunties are going to be bad enough and that’s why I had to talk to you before they found out. We have to present a united front in this. Besides, now that we know, it’s easy enough to deal with.”

“You want me to neuter your husband?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Allie reached past the cushion to pat Charlie’s knee. “I’m second circle, I could neuter him myself. I’m referring to condoms. Later. When they’re not entirely redundant.”

“Are you’re sure they’ll block the seventh sperm of a seventh scrotum?”

In fairness, getting smacked in the face with the cushion came as no surprise.

“Oh, good. You’ve made up.”

Charlie emerged from behind the pillow in time to see Katie cross from the twins’ bedroom to the window and peer down 13th Avenue.

“Auntie Carmen just called me. Apparently the . . . yes, the stoplight’s working again. Did Allie tell you her theory about Graham’s boys getting a little boost from his ancestry?”

She perched on the sofa arm and Charlie stretched up to give her a kiss before saying, “The seven sperm of a seventh scrot . . . Ow!” Again, not a surprise.

“Stop saying that.”

“Stop saying what? The seventh sperm of a . . .” This time Charlie took the cushion away. “Okay, my brain is still on Baltimore time, so just to be sure I’ve got this . . .” She pointed at Allie. “You’re pregnant again because Graham’s the seventh son of a seventh son and that gives him gnarly, albeit unintentional, procreation prowess. I needed an advanced heads up before you tell the aunties—and nice job on keeping it from them, by the way, since I noticed the moment I saw you.”

“You noticed because I wasn’t hiding anything,” Allie told her smugly. “You didn’t notice before you left and I’m seven weeks along.”

“Good point. So in case the aunties, who’ve been angling for the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son of a Gale, say something that infuriates Graham . . .”

“Odds are high,” Graham muttered from the doorway.

“. . . I’m to throw myself in the line of fire because you’re pregnant . . .” She pointed first at Allie and then at Katie. “. . . and you’re a chicken shit.”

“I’m not sleeping with them,” Katie snorted.

“Valid point. Okay, so the aunties need to be told soon before they find out on their own and get pissed off because, although you hid it from them, you told me and Katie . . .”

“I only found out tonight because you hung up on her.”

“. . . and Graham.”

“I think my right to know supersedes theirs.”

Charlie stared at him until he opened his mouth. Then she said, “It’s like you don’t even know them.”

“Jack knows, too,” Allie broke in before Graham could speak. “Apparently, I smell different.”