First Come Twins

by Helen Brenna

  “I hate this place!”

  So what else was new? “Why? What happened?”

  “That’s the problem. Nothing happens here. This island is dead. There’s no mall to hang in. No cool stores or restaurants. No movie theaters. Did you know that Chicago has everything we have here, including a marina. Matt goes to Six Flags three times every summer.”

  Oh, Matt. So the boy was from Chicago. Figures. A lot of Mirabelle’s visitors came from northern Illinois.

  “He’s been to the Sears Tower. The Field Museum. The aquarium. Zoos. He says there are more shopping malls in the Chicago area than anyone could ever count. Arcades. Parks. You name it, he says you can find it there.”

  And smog, noise, crime, gridlocked traffic and a higher cost of living. For every benefit, Sophie could name a drawback, but that wasn’t what Lauren needed to hear.

  “What are you saying? That you want to move to Chicago? All because of a boy?”

  “It’s not because of him, Mom. I’ve always hated this place.”

  “Mirabelle has some shortcomings. Every place does.”

  “We have no soccer team, dance studio or gymnastics classes. If I wanted to learn piano, French or woodworking, I’d be fine. I happen to want to learn guitar, Spanish and yoga, so online is my only option. This place is so…like, limiting.”

  “Some day you can move anyplace you want.”

  “What am I supposed to do for the next four years?”

  “Maybe we need to get away more often. I haven’t done a very good job of that, have I?”

  “You’re doing the best you can, Mom. I know that. When I’m out of school in the summer, you have to work. When you have more free time, I’m in school. It’s not your fault that I feel like I’m suffocating.”

  Where had Sophie heard that before?

  “You should marry Noah, so we can get off this island.”

  Sophie almost fell out of the tree. “So you think getting married is the only way a woman can leave this island?”

  “No. But it’s probably the only way you’ll leave.”

  Sophie couldn’t argue with that. “Why Noah?”

  “What? You think I’m that lame that I couldn’t figure it out?” Lauren rolled her eyes in that sanctimonious teenage-girl way. “Gawd, Mom. So you and Noah had a thing when you were kids. What’s the big deal? He left, you married Dad, and now Dad’s gone.”

  Kids always had a way of boiling things down to their barest elements. Sophie couldn’t believe it. How blind and deaf of a mother was she? She looked away, gathering herself and then asked, “Have you and Kurt talked about this?”

  “A little.”

  “And?”

  “He’s not too sure about Noah, and he misses Dad.” Lauren’s expression turned serious. “I miss him, too, but I want you to be happy. And before…Noah came, I knew you weren’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lauren grabbed at a branch and tugged off a big green leaf. “Every once in a while, you have this look on your face. Sad. Like you want something and can’t find it. And then you try to cover it up. For us.”

  Sophie didn’t know what to say. Her daughter was so perceptive and so right.

  “I used to think it was because you missed Dad, too, but then I remembered. You sometimes looked like that when he was alive.”

  Shit. The mirror was smack-dab in front of Sophie’s face and to turn away would’ve been cowardly.

  “You still love Noah, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you won’t leave the island and he won’t stay?”

  Won’t or can’t? That was the question. She nodded.

  “So that’s it? End of story?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “If you say so,” Lauren said, clearly unconvinced.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  NOAH ROLLED HIS GRANDMOTHER’S old lawn mower into the storage shed and wiped the sweat from his brow. Weeks had passed since the first time he’d trimmed the bushes and weeded the gardens, so the whole yard had needed a cleanup.

  He turned around, taking a long swig from a water bottle and stopped short. His dad, dressed casually in shorts, T-shirt and baseball cap, was walking toward Noah, carrying something bulky. When he got to the yard, he bent over and took a long breath.

  Though Noah was still royally pissed, the man was his own flesh and blood. “You all right?” Noah asked, probably a bit more gruffly than he’d intended. He recapped the water bottle and tossed it onto the porch for a later pickup.

  “When I was a kid, I could run up that hill ten times without stopping. Getting old, I guess.” He held out a long box. “I got something for you.”

  Noah didn’t move.

  “It’s not from me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Noah flipped open the box. Two pairs of old snowshoes lay inside. The sight of the leather bindings, worn and tattered, drilled a hole in his heart that old memories quickly rushed to fill.

  “Isaac wanted you to have those,” his dad said. “It was in his will.” His dad moved into the shade of a large ash tree, took off his hat and brushed back his thinning gray hair. “I think if he’d known he was going to die before seeing you again, he’d have had a few things to say.”

  Noah looked away.

  “He tried to do what was right with Sophie, and he never wanted to hurt you. He loved you. He was proud of you. He missed you.”

  Emotion clogged the words in Noah’s throat. Why did his brother have to go and get in the way of that bullet? So much violence in this world.

  “He would’ve wanted you and me to talk. To settle things between us.”

  Noah closed the box and set it on the porch. “I said everything I needed to say back in your office. I’ve got nothing left.”

  “Oh, yes, you do. I know that look on your face.” His dad leaned against the tree and fanned himself with his hat. “When’s the last time you went fishing?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Well, I ain’t getting any younger.” His dad put his hat back on his head. “It’s time, don’t you think?”

  “All right. You asked for it.”

  For as far back as Noah could remember, his dad had docked a boat in the marina. This recent one was bigger than any of the earlier ones and set up for deepwater charter fishing excursions. Well-stocked with food, beverages, first aid and with a head and sleeping quarters below, Jim could easily spend a week or two out on Lake Superior without docking.

  While Noah had been growing up, if his dad wasn’t at work, he was out on the water. And as far as Noah was concerned, there’d been nothing more fun than fishing with his dad, until he’d turned thirteen and had noticed Sophie growing into a young woman. By the time fifteen rolled around, Jim couldn’t pay Noah enough to get him out on the water. Funny how things had a way of going full circle. Today, Noah was actually looking forward to seeing if he could catch one of those big Lake Superior salmon.

  It didn’t take long before they were cruising on the open water. They hadn’t gone far when Jim cut the engine and prepped his downriggers for trolling.

  “Want something to drink?” Noah headed below deck.

  “Grab me a beer.”

  He rejoined his dad topside and handed him a frosty can. “How’s fishing been?”

  “Terrible. If you know where to go, it’s not too bad. This lake’s overharvested, and I told Isaac that on more than one occasion.”

  At the mention of Isaac again, they both grew quiet.

  “Did he like being a game warden?”

  “Loved it. Almost as much as he loved being a dad.”

  That topic still felt a bit too raw. Noah glanced around. He could see the faint outline of Mirabelle’s shore. “You’re not catching anything this close in, are you?”

  “We’re just messing around. You want to catch some real fish we’ll need the whole day.”

  Noah took a swig
of ice-cold beer as he watched his dad work. The man had always been methodical and efficient in everything, including this hobby. Today, though, he seemed troubled. It took him longer than normal to find the right tackle and he was moving slowly. “You feeling okay?”

  “I must be catching something. Headache. Stomach’s upset.” He wasn’t even smoking his pipe.

  “Why are we out here then?”

  “Can’t pass up a day like today.”

  The sun was bright and the water was about as smooth as a big expanse like Lake Superior ever got. “Sit down. Let me do it.”

  “Hah.” Jim stepped back. “You remember after all these years?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  Jim sat in the shade under cover of the boat’s canopy and sipped on his beer. “How’s your leg doing?”

  “Better.”

  “You sleeping and eating?”

  “Yeah, actually. I feel pretty good these days.”

  “Good.”

  “You going to tell me it’s time to leave the island?”

  “No, son. I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

  Noah glanced up.

  “You and Sophie are right. I’ve wronged you—and her—in more ways than I can count.”

  And her? What had he done to Sophie?

  “Your brother was a good man—”

  “That’s what I keep hearing.”

  “He was stable. Loved Mirabelle. Loved those kids. And he loved Sophie.”

  “Not as much as I did.”

  “I’m realizing that now.” Jim nodded. “I thought what you and Sophie had was puppy love, Noah. That it’d pass once you were gone. For both of you. Isaac wanted to stay on Mirabelle and he wanted a family, but I didn’t want to see him go through what I went through with your mother.

  “The couple of other single women the right age on Mirabelle weren’t well-suited to Isaac. God help me, I not only steered him toward Sophie I made him see that she’d be the perfect wife. And when he insisted Sophie belonged to you, I convinced him that Sophie belonged to herself. She could make her own choice.”

  Noah couldn’t look at his father.

  So many years. Gone.

  “I was wrong, Noah. Can you forgive me?”

  “For that I can,” Noah whispered. “What happened between me and Sophie wasn’t your fault. It was mine. For leaving.” He paused and turned around. “But why didn’t you tell me about the kids right away?”

  His dad looked wary. “That’s a little harder to explain.”

  “That’s what you brought me out here for, isn’t it?”

  His dad nodded. “It has to do with your mother leaving.”

  “Mom? How?”

  “She hated Mirabelle. Couldn’t stand being on an island.”

  “So she left.”

  “That’s the easy answer. There’s more to it than that.”

  “Did I do something to make her go away? Is that why you were angry with me after she left?”

  “No, son. You and I…We’re just different.”

  “Did you do something to make her go away?”

  His dad shook his head. “You blamed me, though, didn’t you, for her leaving?”

  “I suppose in a way,” Noah said.

  “Wasn’t very long after she left that you and I started fighting, left and right. Remember?”

  “I remember you were always angry.”

  “I was angry with everyone after she left.” His dad took a deep breath. “But you’re right, Noah. Every time I look at you, I see your mother. It’s in your eyes, in the way you talk, in the way you live your life. You’re a lot like her.”

  “But you loved her, married her, brought her here with you.”

  “I did. I loved her very much.” He focused on the deck. “That first winter was hard. She was lonely. We didn’t have e-mail and cell phones back then, making it difficult for her to keep in touch with her family. She asked for us to move back to San Diego. I wouldn’t go.

  “Once she had you and Isaac, things got better for a while. Then you were both in school and things went downhill real fast. She started saying that if she stayed on the island, she was going to shrivel up and die.”

  Noah understood the feeling.

  “Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and asked for a divorce. She wanted you and Isaac to spend the school years with her in California, the summers with me. No way, I said. Then she asked for the summers. I wouldn’t give an inch. Mirabelle was your home. I told her the only way she was going to get her divorce, was by giving up both of you.”

  “She could have fought you in court.”

  “Fought against a police chief? A man who knows the Wisconsin court system, the judges and lawyers inside and out? I would’ve raked her over the coals. I was as unbending as that hundred-year-old oak in Shirley Gilbert’s backyard.”

  As if the conversation was too much for him, his dad got up and checked on the downriggers at the back of the boat. He stood astern and turned. “I was wrong. I made your mother choose between herself and her children.”

  “You wouldn’t even let her see us?”

  “I knew if she came to Mirabelle, it’d be moans and groans and tears every time she left.” Suddenly looking so tired, he sat back on the port side of the boat. “If you two had gone to San Diego, you’d never have wanted to come back to Mirabelle. I’d have lost you both.”

  “I always thought she didn’t want me.”

  “I don’t blame you for being mad at me, Noah.” His dad leaned back as if he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Strangely, I’m more relieved than anything. I think I need to find her.”

  “When you do, tell her I’m sorry.”

  “That’s something you’re going to have to tell her yourself.”

  “I doubt an apology will cut it. A mother—or a father—should never have to choose between herself and her children.”

  Understanding dawned in Noah. “So when you found out Sophie was pregnant, you didn’t want me to have to make the same choice Mom had to make.”

  “I didn’t know what I was doing at the time, but I desperately needed to set the past right. I wanted you to be able to live your life without guilt or regret. Free. I wanted you to be free.”

  “Free.” Noah shook his head. “How can a man be free when his heart’s—”

  “Oh, damn.” His dad groaned. “My arm…” He tried to stand, couldn’t, and lost his balance. His feet went out from under him and he started to fall backward.

  “Dad!” Noah shot forward. Reached. Caught a handful of shirt, but his tenuous grip wasn’t enough to stop the momentum. With a loud splash, his father fell into the water. “Dad!”

  “Noah…I’m having a heart att—” He went under and was sinking like an anchor.

  Frantic, Noah dove after him and grabbed him under the arms. His dad’s eyes were closed, his mouth slack. He was out, deadweight. Noah kicked, but he’d never been in the water before with his prosthetic. His left leg seemed totally ineffective.

  He kicked, kicked and kicked toward the surface, and instead of getting closer they seemed to be moving farther away from the boat. As long as he held on to his dad he’d have only one arm and one good leg. It wasn’t enough to move the water. His lungs felt as if they might explode. They were sinking. He couldn’t let his dad go. No way. If one of them sank, then they were both going to sink. That was all there was to it.

  Sophie! Oh, God, Sophie. He didn’t want to leave her again. Not like this. Not ever. Kurt. Lauren. Dammit! You can do this. Bum leg or not. Move, Noah! Now!

  He made one last surge toward the surface. This time, he made headway, could tell he was closing in on the surface. Kick, kick, kick! He shot up out of the water, sucked in a breath, and lunged for the boat. He floated his dad to the stern, yanked on the ladder and managed to get his good leg up on the first rung.

  As soon as he pulled himself partially out of the water, his father’s weight, no longer buoyant, dragged him b
ack. Noah was running on adrenaline and didn’t have much time.

  With everything in him, he heaved himself up, dragging his dad after him and into the boat. It was a damned good thing he’d been working out, or they would both be dead. They fell onto the deck in a heap. Noah prayed there was a defibrillator on the boat.

  He hopped up. His dad wasn’t breathing. First his airway needed to be cleared of water. Noah lifted his father’s limp figure, grabbed him low on his diaphragm and pressed, once, twice. Harder. Water flowed from his dad’s mouth. He pressed again and again and more water spilled through his lips. After several more compressing thrusts, all the water seemed expelled.

  Noah laid him back on the deck of the boat and frantically searched through the cabinets. Fire extinguisher. First-aid kit. Yes! An automated external defibrillator. An AED. His dad must have kept it on board for his charter fishing operation. Noah had used them before. Too many times.

  He unzipped the bag, ripped off his dad’s shirt, grabbed a nearby towel to dry off the exposed skin, and applied the electrical pads to his dad’s chest. Then he sat back and waited for the thing to charge. Go, go, go!

  Finally, it was ready and Noah hit the button. The machine zapped his dad and then automatically monitored the response. Three times it zapped his dad before his heart started and his rhythms stabilized, but he wasn’t breathing. Noah administered mouth-to-mouth, inflating his dad’s chest. Minutes seemed to pass before his father began breathing on his own.

  “Dad!” Noah shook him. “Dad!”

  Nothing. He was unconscious, but alive.

  Noah raced to the radio, revved the engine and ran the boat at full speed toward Mirabelle. “Herman!” he yelled over the line to the deputy chief. “Herman!”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “MOM!”

  “Mom!”

  Focused as Sophie was in attempting to calm a guest, the frantic calls barely penetrated her consciousness. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, facing the woman, doing her best to sound sympathetic. “Unfortunately bee stings do sometimes happen, especially if a child is traipsing through the gardens.”

  “Traipsing?” The woman’s eyebrows rose and she put her hands on her hips. “What are you suggesting?”