by Linda Ungar
“Can you forgive me?” her mother sobbed. Jenny’s long, tearful embrace gave her the answer she prayed for.
She called Mark from the car. “You were right about my mother. Can you come home now, please?”
“They’re not my real parents. I’m not who I thought I was. A lot of things in my past make sense to me now, thoughts that just came and went through my mind that I dismissed. Now I know why there weren’t any baby pictures of me. My mother told me they were lost in moving. When I asked who in the family I looked like my mother told me I was the image of her grandmother. Of course there weren’t any pictures of her either. When I told her I was expecting twins, she had a very odd expression on her face, almost disturbed. When I commented on it she said she was just very surprised, that’s all.”
Mark was greatly relieved to have an answer at last. An answer he felt would heal Jenny.
“I know this is a shock, but I think this is really good news. It proves nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s triggered that memory. This doesn’t change the life you had. Your parents were wonderful. Their love for you was real. Everything they did for you was real. My parents are my real parents and I still wish I was adopted. I hate the thought that I’m related to them.”
It was true that anyone who knew Mark and his parents well, were convinced that such a good man couldn’t possibly be related to the shallow selfish people who barely bothered to raise him.
“And just because you don’t know who your birth parents are doesn’t change you at all. You’re still the most incredible person I know. That’s the real you.”
Mark was right. Knowing the cause of the nightmares did put an end to them, allowing Jenny to heal. She slept well for the first time in months, delighted to see both the early afternoon sun flooding her bedroom, and Abby patiently waiting for her to get up. Yawning and stretching luxuriously, knowing the curse was gone, she smiled. It could be effortless to resume life as it had been before the nightmares started, knowing Mark would want to rebook the cancelled cruise and start enjoying themselves again. He already had waited too long.
But she couldn’t do that because she knew the nightmares were not a suppressed memory, but her sister screaming for help now. How could she go on with her own life until she saved her sister’s?
Now that she knew the meaning of the dream there was no other choice.
I’m coming for you. I’ll find you, she vowed.
The low dark clouds stalled overhead added to her sense of foreboding. What if she didn’t find her sister? Followed by the equally disturbing thought, what if she did find her? Though Mark never told her what to do, she knew his childhood taught him to be wary of family entanglements. He was against exhuming the past.
She approached a small brick office building at the end of Main Street in Huntington and pushed the buzzer for M. Ryan. Though she had walked through these doors many times, never before had she been nervous or upset. Now she was the one needing help, not one of her distraught readers desperate to track a missing loved one or an errant spouse who had stopped child support. Mickey Ryan provided security for some of the biggest businesses in the New York area. He had started a detective agency after retiring from over twenty years in the NYPD. His reputation, first as a policeman then as a detective, ensured his success. He had added the security division after 9/11.
Jenny routinely called on many people for expert advice that she could pass along to her readers. Her end of the year column was always dedicated to her sources, and Mickey, grateful for her yearly thanks and praise, always made time for her in his crowded schedule.
He greeted her warmly. “Good to see you Jenny. Here’s your coffee the way you like it, milk no sugar.” He pushed a tall paper cup towards her, the steam still rising from its rim. Wrapping her hands around the hot cup, she savored the warmth.
“How can I help you?”
That was Mickey, friendly, to the point, and no frills. You would never find a china cup filled with some exotic brew in his utilitarian office. He looked the part of a no-nonsense cop. Medium height, trim compact build and short cropped steel gray hair. His piercing blue eyes, set off by a ruddy complexion, missed nothing.
“Mickey, this might sound crazy to a lot of people, but you’ve known me for years and I think I can safely say that I’ve always been rational and easy to deal with and………”
“Tell me what you want from me,” he interrupted.
“OK, but first you should know that I tried to take care of this myself. I’m looking for someone who was adopted forty-two years ago. Not only did the people at the orphanage refuse to give me any information, they looked at me as if I needed a psychiatrist. They were tactful in what they said, but I got the message.”
While Jenny spoke, Mickey listened intently, his expression never changing. He had seen and heard just about everything in his long career.
“Well that’s it,” she sighed, feeling slightly foolish. “Is this something you can help me with?” uncertain she had been taken seriously.
He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands behind his neck to relieve the tension he felt after concentrating on Jenny’s story.
“I don’t dismiss psychic experiences. A lot of police departments ask for help from psychics occasionally, though usually they don’t publicize that. I’ll look into this. I’ll need some more details then I’ll get back to you. Just a warning though, you may not like what you find.”
During the days following her visit to Mickey’s office, Jenny’s cheerful outlook returned.
Relieved of the horrors of the exhausting nightmares, and feeling physically well again, she regained confidence that the past had receded. She even began to question if her nightmares meant her sister was in any danger.
The day Mickey Ryan called was the first day Jenny had given no thought to her sister. There was a deadline to meet for her column and a lunch date with an out of town college friend who had texted her only that morning asking if they could meet for lunch. Then spending more time than she expected catching up with her old friend, she rushed to the supermarket to buy food for dinner.
Laden with bags of groceries, she dropped them onto the kitchen counter. Abby’s padded footsteps grew louder as she scurried across the floor to greet Jenny. She loved this time spent by herself, the fleeting space between day and night, before her family came home. Happy to be alone, but not lonely.
The softness of spring warmed the twilight as Jenny opened the kitchen windows and began to prepare dinner. A breeze blowing through her garden gathered the scents of the first spring flowers and they soon mingled with the aroma of a roasting chicken. The biscuits would go in the oven later. She was grateful that her greatest pleasures were simple ones. As she sliced tomatoes for a salad, humming softly, another puff of wind pushed aside the sheer curtains and blew into the kitchen, presenting her with the fragrance of a spring bouquet, its scent familiar. ‘Spring Bouquet’, “of course.” She smiled at the memory of the cologne she loved as a teenager. She wore perfume now, but occasionally still wore ‘Spring Bouquet’. I wonder why I never realized until now how like it is to the real thing. A ringing phone demanding her attention startled Jenny out of her pleasant thoughts, an unwelcome intrusion into the quiet of her peaceful world.
“Jenny, Mickey Ryan. Can you come in tomorrow? I have news for you. How’s 4:30?”
“Fine.” One syllable was all she could manage.
“Great, see you then.”
Jenny told the family about Mickey’s call.
“He didn’t give me any news on the phone, but knowing Mickey, I don’t think he’d call yet if he didn’t find her.”
Mark became very quiet. The twins, Brian and Josh, thought it was ‘cool’ to have a mysterious aunt suddenly emerge from the past, especially one who was a twin like them. They were excitedly laughing and making up stories about what she would be like, never noticing they were the only ones talking. Mark took some papers fro
m his briefcase and closed the door to his study before dessert was served.
He was in bed waiting for Jenny when she came up. Looking like a man who saw an oncoming storm but no place to take shelter, he kissed her goodnight and turned away. Reaching for her lamp, she turned off the light.
The meeting with Mickey was brief.
“I found your twin.” He handed her a paper with her sister’s name, home and work addresses. “She’s moved around a lot and has had a difficult life,” was the only comment he made. Mickey’s expression gave no clue to his thoughts, but she suspected he knew more than he was telling her.
Smiling, Jenny threw her suitcase into the trunk, started her car and waved goodbye to Mark. He stood in the driveway, returning her wave but not her smile. He couldn’t shake his worry. What Mickey discovered about her twin troubled him, especially since she insisted on going alone to find her.
Jenny had argued, “But that’s the whole point. I think she needs help and I’m happy to give it. I think it will be easier for her if she meets just me.”
Mark knew it was also what Jenny needed. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t pursue this. One of the reasons she had an advice column was to help others. She genuinely cared about her readers. It was one of the many reasons Mark loved her.
Jenny entered the address in her GPS and began her journey. She knew it would take her to the right place, but was it a place she should go? There was still no technology to tell her that. Dismissing any doubt, her optimistic nature took charge. I’ll leave it to Mark to be the designated pessimist in the family, and gave it no further thought.
It was another four hours before she pulled into the parking lot of the address Mickey had given her. He said it was better to go to her sister’s workplace than home since she was more likely to be there. She looked around the lot. Billy’s Diner probably never had a customer who arrived in a Mercedes sports car. She laughed to herself, thinking how Brian and Josh would groan and call her a snob even to have thought that. They would realize when they were older that there had never been any snobbery in Jenny, she just spoke the truth.
Before getting out of the car she looked again at the diner. The faded sign sat at an alarming angle on the roof. She had no way of knowing that, even though it seemed it could fall at any moment, it had been that way for years. The exterior paint was faded and, in some places, had flaked completely off. She would have to walk carefully over the buckled and cracked asphalt.
Making any repairs would be a waste of money since no one would care. People came here for the cheap food. Anyone looking for ambience wouldn’t be in Watkins Falls. Once a thriving town, its last factory had closed decades ago. A distant whistle warned of a fast-approaching train that would rattle the diner as it roared by on its rush out of town. Her spirits faltered. Instinctively Jenny tugged at the brim of her baseball cap pulling it further down until it reached the top of her sunglasses. A futile attempt to shield her eyes from the pain of reality.
“Getta load a what just pulled up,” Jodi snickered to Hank, the short order cook behind the counter. “It’s a god damn rich bitch.” She watched in amazement as Jenny got out of her car. “What the hell is she doing here? Her GPS must really be fucked up. Her handbag probably costs more than I make all week.”
The smells of frying bacon and hash browns that were served at Billy’s all day assaulted Jenny as she entered the diner and slid into the first empty booth. It didn’t seem to be the kind of place you waited to be seated. Jodi approached with a menu and a pot of coffee. She pushed the menu towards Jenny and turned over the cup already placed on the table.
“Coffee hon?” She smiled, hoping for a big tip from this one.
“Sure, thanks.”
As she leaned over to pour the coffee, Jenny could smell her cologne.
“‘Spring Bouquet’?”
Jodi looked puzzled. “What?”
“Your perfume, are you wearing ‘Spring Bouquet’?”
“Oh that, yeah.”
“I wear it too.”
Jodi laughed a little too sarcastically for someone looking for a good tip. “Sure you do. I can see we have so much in common.” Still laughing she turned away, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“The specials are in the front of the menu,” she called back to Jenny, her retreating bulk encased in a dark green apron tied around a thick waist. Her slightly swollen feet nestled in new shoes. Jodi had cut off the Payless price tag on them this morning. With bright blonde hair, heavy makeup and hot pink nail polish, she was all artificial color. No one would take them for sisters, let alone twins, yet Jenny knew by her nametag this was the Jodi she had come for.
She delayed removing her hat and sunglasses and lingered over her coffee, waiting for the few lunch customers to leave before she spoke to Jodi. This was a conversation that required privacy.
Jodi came to the table. “Do you want anything else?”
“Yes. Please sit down, I need to talk to you.”
Jodi startled in surprise. “What about?” she asked suspiciously, backing away. “Did someone send you?” She seemed almost panicky.
“Nobody sent me. I came because I need to talk to you. I promise it’s nothing bad, quite the contrary. Please sit down,” she repeated.
Jodi looked back at the reassuring presence of Hank, who was now leaning over the counter watching, and felt safer.
“Ok.” She perched on the end of the booth opposite Jenny, like a bird on a branch ready to fly at the first sign of danger.
Jenny removed her hat and sunglasses and reaching into her large handbag, pulled out an envelope filled with photos. She looked directly into Jodi’s blue eyes, ones that looked identical to the ones she saw in her own mirror every day.
“Do I look familiar to you? I should, we’re twins.” She spread out pictures, taken from the time she was three until late last year.
Jodi, now pale and trembling, silently stared at images that could have come from her own photo albums, if she had been lucky enough to travel or live in beautiful homes. It was only in the later pictures that they began to look different. While a smiling Jenny remained slender and beautiful, a defeated, worn out Jodi, overweight by her thirties, never smiled anymore for the camera, she had lost too many teeth.
Jodi jumped up and backed away. “Are you shitting me? Are you for real? Who the hell are you?” But looking at this better version of herself, she knew.
In spite of all the times Jenny had rehearsed the best way to approach Jodi, she had just blurted everything out and was handling this badly.
“I’m your sister, Jenny Harris.” In desperation she spoke rapidly, her voice rising, trying to convince Jodi. “You were born May 3rd in Glen Cove, New York. You’ll be 46 on your next birthday. How could I know all that if I wasn’t for real? And I’ll bet you never saw any baby pictures of yourself either?”
Jodi didn’t move, tears spilled from her eyes. They mixed with her mascara, running down in blotches on her face.
“Are you ok.” Hank now stood behind Jodi, his big hands resting gently on her shoulders.
“She’s fine.” Jenny answered for her.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Hank snapped back. Hank and Jodi, two lost souls, had become very close.
“It’s ok, Hank. She’s my sister. Jenny, this is Hank. He’s like family, a big brother.”
Jenny extended her hand to Hank and shook his rough one that was attached to a hairy, tattooed arm. This was more family than she had been looking for.
Hank looked at Jodi’s tear-stained face and went behind the counter, returning with a wet dish cloth.
“You’re a mess,” he said handing it to her.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jodi mumbled into the cloth she used to wipe her face.
“I didn’t mean it that way honey. You know what I meant.”
“I know. I’m just feeling sorry for myself again.”
“How come you never told me you had a sister?”
“Maybe ‘cause I didn’t know.”
With her face cleaned of makeup, Hank was startled by the resemblance to Jenny. “You’re more than sisters, you guys are twins.”
“So I’ve just been told.”
“Hell, this is no place for a family reunion. Go home. I’ll cover for you. Go on sweetie, I’ll see you in the morning. Want me to pick you up?”
“I can drive her back.” Jenny volunteered.
Hank turned to Jodi, to see if that’s what she wanted. It was.
“Should I follow you home or do you want to come with me?”
“I’ll come with you. Hank usually gives me a lift.”
“Pull in there.” Jodi pointed to a driveway that was more dirt than asphalt. 41 Railroad Avenue had no neighbors. On one side squatted an abandoned house, the other side an empty lot with nothing beyond that. There was no reason for the town to keep going. It stopped here…..a dead end. The small bungalow Jodi rented was even more poorly maintained than Billy’s Diner. Rotting wooden steps leading to a sagging porch was the only way to reach the front door. Jodi told her the wobbly stairs to the back door were even worse. The railroad ran just a few feet behind the house. Only a rickety wooden fence separated the weed-filled, trash-strewn yard from the tracks. Low green hills in the distance provided the single pleasing view Jenny had seen since coming to Watkins Falls.
The stench of stale cigarettes, along with a fat black cat that looked like it had no intention of ever going on a diet, greeted the sisters as they entered the cramped living room. Jodi reached down and smiled as she affectionately stroked the creature.
“Abby,” she addressed the cat, “meet my sister Jenny.”
“Abby?” Jenny was incredulous, “That’s the name of my cat.”
“See, maybe we do have a lot in common?” Jodi was pleased, Jenny was not.
“What have I gotten myself into? Mark was right. I should have left the past where it belongs.”