The couple that opened the door together was a striking one. Tangled together, laughing. She was a slender, black woman of medium-height, he was tall, green-eyed and very white. They both had rather extreme hair. Fannie's was a thick explosion of natural coils in deepest brown, Scott's a less impressive, but still utterly wild blonde mop. Fannie had said half-jokingly for years—though Jules wondered sometimes if there was more truth in there that he wanted to know— 'The first thing I thought when I saw that man was what beautiful babies we would make. Of course I had to marry him. Our gift to the world; perfect, genetically-engineered hair.' It was true, too. The twins were almost four and they were too gorgeous by half. Identical from their sweet button noses (Scott) and adorable upside-down mouths (Fannie), with skin that split the difference between both parents; a rich, fine caramel that everyone sighed over. Oh, and the hair was as perfect as Fannie could have ever dreamed, corkscrews in paroxysms of matching gold-brushed chocolate.
