Family Reunion

You get up and try to compose yourself as if you hadn't just fucked your neighbor. Your scuffle with Ben was an effective diversion in losing your track of time. As your neighbor heads inside with his kids you check the clock on your phone, and in a stroke of serendipity you receive a call from your brother. At that moment you realize you had lunch plans with your parents at their place, a biannual occurrence to keep up-to-date that you always forget about. You hastily answer the phone.

"Hey, I'm-" you are cut off.

"Where you at, bro? Don't tell me you forgot again!" your brother shouts on the other end.

"I know, I know, I'm on my way now, but... I had a really good reason to forget!"

There's unintelligible chatter and ruckus on his end, "Forgetting is still forgetting, everyone's here and I've got no excuses. Hurry up."

By the time the phone clicks you are already half-way to your car, fumbling the keys in your hands. You hop in your car and speed away. Thankfully, you've always lived nearby. You could never really fly the coop, having moved back in after college before getting your own place in the suburbs, still only a couple miles away from your folks.

By the time you're halfway down the road you feel sanity returning to you, already putting what just occurred to the back of your mind, though not out of it. You feel guilty for being late to one of these reunions again, and although your parents always forgive you, they don't think twice about giving you a hard time. You turn onto their street, greeted by their subdivision sign. Your family lives in a neighborhood not unlike your own, with the exception that it's more upscale and smothered with Home Owner Associations. While you pull into their driveway you see your brother waving from the front door. You park and head inside.

The inside of the house is filled with the familiar heat of all-day cooking and the smell of simmered greens. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins are scattered throughout the house, mostly focused within the living room. You enter the kitchen and are greeted by a smile from your mother, who brandishes a skillet over the hot burner.

"Can I help with anything, Mom?" you ask.

"Oh, no dear. I've got your uncle Joe helping me," she points toward the dining room, where you see your recluse uncle setting the table with chinaware. "You have a seat with your brother, everything will be ready soon."

You take a seat with your brother in the breakfast nook who's currently flicking the screen of his phone, engrossed in some game.

"Thanks for reminding me," you say apologetically, "...but I swear I had a... legitimate reason for forgetting."

You nervously grin as your brother looks up from his game, giving a weary smile, "Heyyy, I totally understand, bro. Things with me and Meryl have been crazy hectic ever since baby number dos."

"Oh, you must see the baby pictures," your mom sparkles from across the counter, "Show him the pictures, Steven, She is just darling!"

"I've seen the pictures, Mom."

"One needs to have kids in order to appreciate baby pictures, honey." Your dad swaggers into the kitchen, beer in hand, giving a peck on your mom's cheek before taking a seat next to you. "Who's gotta be loading the shotgun for you to settle down, Pete?"

It's true, you are the only one in your family who hasn't had kids yet, even your recluse uncle Joe has grand-kids now. This revelation wouldn't have surprised you as much if you hadn't woken up this morning being granted a power that lets you sleep with dads, which, as your brother shoves his phone in your face showing you these baby pictures you only now realize the ramifications of that.

You turn to your dad, who has pulled out a phone of his own, squinting at whatever article he's reading as you try to grasp this turn of events you are now presented with.