The desert air hit them with a wave of dry heat as they stepped out of the car. After the cool coastal climate of home, Palm Springs felt like stepping into another world—the harsh afternoon sun radiating off the pale concrete driveway of Ken's parents' home.

"Welcome to Heatport," Ken said with a wry smile, already reaching for his sunglasses.

Toni laughed, pulling her sun hat lower over her eyes. "I think I'm going to melt."

From her carrier, Samba let out a disgruntled meow, clearly expressing her own opinion about the change in climate.

"Don't worry, Sambaport," Toni cooed as she carefully took the carrier from the backseat. "We'll get you inside where it's cool."

Before they could retrieve any luggage from the car, the front door flew open, and Ken's father emerged, his familiar silhouette backlit by the foyer light.

"You made it!" Tony Mendoza called out, striding toward them with arms outstretched. "Right on time, as always."

Ken stepped forward to embrace his father, a man with the same angular features as his son, though his hair had long since turned silver. "Hi, Dad. Good to see you."

Tony held his son for a moment longer than usual before releasing him to turn to Toni. "And you must be Toni! Finally, we meet in person." He enfolded her in a warm hug as if they were old friends. "It's about time you two figured things out," he whispered in her ear before letting go.

Toni's cheeks flushed at the comment, but she smiled warmly. "It's wonderful to finally meet you in person, Tony. After all our video calls, I feel like I already know you."

"Better now that the cavalry has arrived," he replied, glancing back at the house with a momentary shadow crossing his face. Then, his eyes lit up at the sight of the cat carrier. "And you brought Samba! Gloria will be thrilled."

"She goes everywhere with us," Ken said, smiling as Samba meowed her agreement.

Tony gestured toward the car. "Let's get your things inside before you all melt out here."

Working together, they unloaded the essentials—overnight bags, the LOVE BOT components, the carefully packed keyboard, and Samba's supplies—leaving the rest for later. As they carried everything inside, Tony kept up a steady stream of conversation, updating them on neighborhood news and local developments.

The house was cool and dim after the brightness outside, the air conditioning humming efficiently. Ken paused in the entryway, taking in the familiar scents and sounds of his parents' home. Little had changed in the decor since his last visit—the same southwestern-inspired color scheme, the same collection of family photos lining the hallway, the same pottery his mother had collected over decades.

Toni set down Samba's carrier and opened the door. The feline cautiously emerged, sniffing the new environment with careful consideration before apparently deciding it was acceptable.

"Where's Mom?" Ken asked, setting down a box of electronic components.

"Resting," Tony replied, his voice lowering. "She had physical therapy this morning, and it always tires her out. But she's so excited you're here—both of you. She made me promise to wake her the minute you arrived."

"Let her rest," Toni suggested gently. "We can get settled and maybe set up a few things first."

Tony nodded gratefully. "That's probably wise. The guest rooms are ready—I put you in your usual room, Ken, and Toni, you're across the hall in the blue room." A hint of uncertainty crossed his face. "Unless you'd prefer... I mean, I wasn't sure if you would want to share, now that you're..."

Ken and Toni exchanged a quick glance, both suppressing smiles at Tony's awkward navigation of their changed relationship status.

"That arrangement is perfect, Dad," Ken assured him. "Thanks for getting everything ready."

"And is there a good spot for Samba's things?" Toni asked, as the cat wound herself between their legs, already exploring her temporary home.

"I set up a corner in the sunroom with some old cushions," Tony said. "But knowing Samba, she'll choose her own favorite spots."

Relieved, Tony led them through the house to the guest wing. As they walked, Ken took mental notes of changes since his last visit. The house seemed tidier than usual—evidence of his father's meticulous care in their mother's reduced capacity. But there were subtle signs of strain: mail piled on a side table, a dining room chair with a stack of medical paperwork, reading glasses perched precariously on top.

"I thought we'd set up your tech project in the sunroom," Tony said as they reached the guest rooms. "It gets the best light, and Gloria spends most of her time there during the day."

"Perfect," Ken agreed, setting down his overnight bag. "The sunroom has the space we need, and it's close to the piano."

After a quick freshen-up, they reconvened in the kitchen, where Tony was already preparing a light meal. Ken moved around the familiar space with ease, helping his father assemble sandwiches while Toni set the table. Samba had found a sunny spot on the kitchen windowsill and was watching their activities with lazy interest.

"How is she really, Dad?" Ken asked quietly when Toni stepped out to retrieve something from the car.

Tony's hands stilled on the cutting board. "Better than a month ago," he said after a moment. "The physical recovery is on track. She's walking more each day, gaining strength. But..." He looked up, meeting his son's eyes. "She's not herself yet. Forgets things sometimes. Gets frustrated easily. The doctors say it's normal after what she's been through, but—" He broke off, swallowing hard.

Ken placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "That's why we're here, Dad. To help however we can."

Tony nodded, blinking rapidly. "Having you both here—it means everything. Especially now."

Further conversation was halted by Toni's return. She sensed the emotional moment between father and son but didn't intrude, instead busying herself with arranging glasses on the table. Her quiet understanding of when to step back was one of the many things Ken loved about her.

They were just finishing their meal when a soft voice came from the doorway.

"There you are."

All three turned to see Gloria Mendoza standing in the entrance to the kitchen, one hand resting on the doorframe for support. She was thinner than Ken remembered, her usually immaculate dark hair—now streaked with more silver than before—pulled back in a simple braid. But her eyes—Ken's eyes—were bright and alert as they moved from her husband to her son.

"Mom," Ken was on his feet instantly, crossing to her in three long strides. He embraced her carefully, as if afraid she might break. "You should have called for help."

"I'm not an invalid, Kenneth," she chided gently, though she leaned into his embrace. "Just a bit slower these days."

When Ken released her, Gloria's gaze moved to Toni, who had risen from her chair but remained by the table. A slow smile spread across the older woman's face. "And you're Toni. At last, I get to meet the woman my son talks about constantly. Come here, dear one."

Toni crossed to embrace Gloria, the two women holding each other as if they'd known each other for years rather than just meeting. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you in person, Gloria," Toni said softly.

"Let me look at you both," Gloria said, stepping back but keeping hold of Toni's hands. Her eyes moved between them, taking in their dynamic, the ease between them. "You're even more lovely in person than on our video calls," she told Toni, then looked between them with quiet satisfaction. "Finally together, just as I predicted. It took you two long enough."

Just then, Samba jumped down from her windowsill perch and approached Gloria with a curious meow.

"And you brought Samba!" Gloria exclaimed with delight, carefully bending to offer her hand to the cat. "Hello, beautiful."

Samba sniffed Gloria's fingers, then rubbed against her hand in approval.

Ken shook his head, laughing. "Is there a 'Ken and Toni should date' fan club I don't know about? Dad said practically the same thing."

"We're founding members," Tony confirmed, coming to stand beside his wife, one arm slipping protectively around her waist. "Chapter established approximately fifteen years ago, wasn't it, dear?"

"At least," Gloria agreed, her eyes twinkling. "That Christmas when Ken couldn't stop talking about 'my business partner Toni' every five minutes."

"I did not—" Ken began to protest, then caught Toni's amused expression. "Okay, maybe I did."

"You absolutely did," his mother confirmed. "But enough about that. I want to hear about this LOVE BOT you've been so mysterious about. And Toni mentioned something about a keyboard?"

"Why don't we move to the living room?" Robert suggested. "You can be comfortable while they explain everything."

They relocated to the spacious living room, Elena moving slowly but determinedly without assistance. Ken noticed how his father hovered nearby, ready to help but respecting her independence. It was a delicate dance they had clearly perfected during her recovery.

Once settled on the comfortable sofa, Elena looked expectantly at her son. "So, tell me about this project. Your father says you've been working on it for months."

Ken and Toni exchanged a glance, their practiced partnership coming into play as they took turns explaining the LOVE BOT concept. Ken covered the technical specifications and features, while Toni elaborated on the therapeutic applications and user experience.

"It's designed to adapt to your preferences and needs," Ken explained. "The more you interact with it, the more personalized it becomes."

"And it connects with the digital piano we brought," Toni added. "So it can suggest music based on your mood or therapeutic goals, display sheet music, or even play accompaniment if you want to perform."

Elena listened intently, asking occasional questions that revealed her sharp intelligence remained undiminished by her health challenges. When they finished explaining, she was quiet for a moment, her gaze moving between her son and Toni with an expression Ken couldn't quite interpret.

"This is why you've been so insistent on this extended visit," she said finally. "You're not just bringing a gadget—you're bringing yourselves as tech support."

Ken felt a momentary pang of uncertainty. "Is that... not okay?"

To his surprise, his mother's eyes filled with tears. "It's more than okay, Kenneth. It's... exactly what I needed, though I didn't know it." She reached for his hand. "You've always tried to solve problems with technology. Ever since you were small. But this time, you're not just sending a solution—you're bringing your heart along with it."

She glanced at Toni with a knowing smile. "I suspect I have you to thank for that part."

Toni shook her head. "Ken's heart has always been there in his work. Sometimes it just needed a little translation from INTP to the rest of the world."

This made everyone laugh, breaking the emotional intensity of the moment. As the conversation shifted to more mundane topics—their drive down, the Oregon weather they'd left behind, neighborhood gossip—Ken observed the easy way Toni fit into his family circle. Despite this being her first in-person meeting with his parents, she interacted with them as if they'd known each other for years, thanks to all their video calls. But there was something different now, a deeper connection forming that felt right in a way he couldn't quite articulate.

After an hour or so of conversation, Elena began to show signs of fatigue, though she tried to hide it. Robert, attuned to her rhythms, gently suggested it was time for her rest.

"You two must be tired from your drive anyway," he added. "Why don't we all take a little break, and then maybe we can have dinner on the patio this evening? The nights are beautiful here."

As Robert helped Elena to their bedroom, Ken and Toni retreated to the sunroom to begin unpacking the LOVE BOT components. The room was filled with golden afternoon light, desert views visible through large windows.

"Your parents are amazing," Toni said as they worked. "The way they support each other... it's beautiful to watch."

Ken nodded, carefully connecting the main processing unit. "Forty-three years of marriage. They've always been like this—a team. Dad was her rock through medical school, she was his support when he started his architecture firm. They've weathered a lot together."

"A good model to aspire to," Toni observed quietly.

Ken looked up, meeting her eyes. "The best," he agreed. Then, with a hint of vulnerability: "Did I tell you what Mom said to me after her surgery? When things were still really touch and go?"

Toni shook her head.

"She said, 'Kenneth, don't wait for a health scare to tell people how you feel about them.'" He set down the component he was holding. "Two weeks later, I finally asked you out."

Toni's expression softened. "So I have Elena to thank for that?"

"Among other things," Ken acknowledged with a smile. "She's been in the 'Ken and Toni should date' club for a long time, apparently."

"Smart woman," Toni said, leaning over to kiss him lightly. "Clearly the intelligence runs in the family."

They worked companionably for another hour, setting up the basic components of the LOVE BOT system. The familiar rhythm of their professional collaboration—passing tools without needing to ask, anticipating each other's needs in the workflow—felt especially meaningful here in Ken's childhood home.

Later, as the desert sunset painted the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, they joined Ken's parents on the sheltered patio for dinner. Elena, refreshed from her rest, insisted on helping Robert prepare a simple meal, though she moved more carefully than in the past.

Over grilled fish and vegetables, the conversation flowed easily between past and present. Elena shared stories from Ken's childhood that made Toni laugh and Ken groan in mock embarrassment. Robert recounted the early days of his architecture practice, when Elena would help with drafting between hospital shifts.

"This reminds me of Storyport nights," Toni said during a lull in the conversation. At the puzzled looks from Ken's parents, she explained: "It's our little tradition. Adding 'port' to words—our special language."

"From Sweetieport Systems," Ken added. "It sort of... evolved."

Elena's face lit up with delight. "I love that! It's like your own private language." She thought for a moment. "So this would be... Familyport?"

"Perfect," Toni agreed, smiling. "Definitely Familyport."

Ken felt a surge of warmth at seeing his mother embrace their quirky habit, at watching Toni share this personal part of their relationship with his parents. Something significant was happening here—the careful integration of their shared life into his family foundation.

As the evening progressed, he noticed how Toni would subtly assist his mother when needed—passing items within easy reach, finding the right word when Elena faltered momentarily, quietly refreshing her water glass. Not hovering, not intruding, just... supporting. His father noticed too, shooting Toni grateful glances when he thought no one was looking.

After dinner, as they lingered over herbal tea (Elena's new preference since her medications limited caffeine), Ken's father brought out a family photo album—one Ken hadn't seen before.

"I've been digitizing all our old photos," Robert explained, placing the book on the table. "Part of my 'keeping busy' therapy while your mother was in the hospital."

"Robert has become quite the digital archivist," Elena added with fond exasperation. "Every photograph we own has been scanned, labeled, and categorized."

"It's a perfect project for the LOVE BOT's reminiscence therapy function," Ken noted, leaning forward with interest. "We can incorporate these digital albums into the system."

As Robert turned the pages, they were treated to a chronological journey through the Mendoza family history—Ken's childhood, family vacations, Elena's medical school graduation, Robert's first major architecture award. Toni asked questions about each image, genuinely interested in the stories behind them.

When they reached photos from a beach vacation twenty years earlier, Elena paused, her finger resting on an image of teenage Ken building an elaborate sand castle.

"You were always constructing something," she said softly. "Always figuring out how things worked, how to make them better." She looked up at her son. "I knew you'd do important things. Create solutions that matter."

The simple pride in her voice made Ken's throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had good examples," he managed, glancing between his parents.

"You certainly did," Toni agreed. "A doctor and an architect—both builders in different ways. No wonder you became an engineer."

This observation—connecting Ken's path to his parents' influence in a way he'd never quite articulated—landed with surprising impact. He felt Toni's hand find his under the table, a gentle squeeze of understanding.

As the evening drew to a close, Elena's energy began to fade visibly. Though she protested, her body's needs couldn't be denied, and Robert gently insisted it was time for rest.

"Tomorrow we'll set up the piano," Toni promised as they said goodnight. "And finish configuring the LOVE BOT."

"I'll look forward to it," Elena replied, embracing her. Then, more quietly: "Thank you for bringing my son home. And for making him happy."

Toni's eyes met Ken's over his mother's shoulder. "He does the same for me," she said simply.

After his parents retired, Ken and Toni stepped outside onto the patio once more, gazing up at the desert night sky. The stars seemed impossibly bright and clear, the Milky Way a luminous streak against the darkness.

"Different from our Perspectiveport at home," Toni observed, nestling against him in the cooling night air.

"But still beautiful," Ken replied, his arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for today."

"For what?"

"For... everything. The way you are with my parents. How you remember Mom's medical details without making her feel like a patient. How you connect with Dad about his architecture projects." He paused. "For seeing them as people, not just my parents."

Toni looked up at him, her expression earnest in the starlight. "They're important to you, so they're important to me. And they're wonderful people in their own right."

Ken nodded, feeling a profound sense of rightness. "I keep thinking about what Mom said—Familyport. It fits."

"It does," Toni agreed. "Your family is now part of our Sweetieport vocabulary. As it should be."

They stood together under the vast desert sky, the foundation of Ken's past supporting the promise of their future together. Tomorrow would bring the technical work they'd prepared for—setting up the LOVE BOT, configuring the piano, beginning the practical aspects of their visit. But tonight had laid a different, equally important foundation—the integration of their relationship into the family structures that had shaped Ken.

Familyport, indeed.