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* Gerry was laughing as he pressed the accelerator of our rented Fiat to the floor. The two of us were on the Autostrade, on our way into Milan. The windows were down and the sunroof was open. Warm, dry wind ripped through the cabin, mangling our hair and wrecking our maps. I could barely hear the radio over the rushing air. My brother had only gotten his driver’s license a month earlier back in North Carolina. Against my better judgment, I let him take the wheel, once we had gotten past Varese. My judgment, it turns out, was more than a little off that entire trip. “Gerry, you’re doing almost 150 kilometers per hour.” I yelled. “Excellent,” Gerry glanced at the speedometer and knitted his brow. He seemed determined to beat the cheap little car to pieces. “How fast is that in American?” “Slowwww dowwwwn!” In American? What an idiot. Rolling his eyes, he eased off the gas. He turned to me with that big grin of his, white teeth lighting up his suntanned face. “Better, Lynnie?” “Don’t. I’d been leaning on Emily a lot to help pick up the slack. She’d been keeping track of other things like the new facility progress and updates on Ronald’s new plant, while I locked myself in with Ted and Aaron Baxter, working out the preliminaries of a new deal between us to use our new battery in their upcoming projects.We both slumped down on the couch, not even bothering to go upstairs, Emily slouching over on me as a convenient pillow. We’d been down all of five minutes, long enough for Emily to already be breathing slowly and evenly in sleep, and I was just thinking this would be a good place for a nap before heading upstairs to bed when Zoe, Vicki, and Celia came tumbling down the stairs.“Finally, you’re...” Zoe said and stopped as I held up a finger to my lips. She continued in a whisper, saying, “Ohh, sorry.”“It’s fine,” a sleepy voice came from my shoulder. “I’m not asleep, or at least not all the way.”Emily sat up, stretching.“Good,” Zoe said, sitting next to Emily and.
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