The Trouble with Twins

by Nancy Warren

“I’ve got good news,” Cindi sang from Melissa’s front door, waving a clump of papers in her thin hand.

  The elephants started to stampede.

  “They want to offer. I told them you’re reluctant to sell so they’ve given me the top price they can afford.” The woman practically crowed like a rooster as she named a dollar figure that made Melissa’s eyes bug out. She knew prices had risen in her neighborhood, but not that high. She could put some of the money into her business.

  “When? When would they want it?”

  “They want to be all moved in before school starts in September. Lots of time.”

  “Can I have a few days to think about it?”

  “Obviously, they’re anxious to get things settled. They have to go back to California and sell their house. He’s been transferred up here.”

  “I understand. Give me two days?”

  “Sure. Now. About that other matter. I talked with some of my agents and everybody likes the idea of being able to offer your services to our clients. Exclusively, you understand.”

  Melissa’s head was whirling. The woman in front of her was a deal-making machine. From one project to the next with lightning speed. She realized she’d better learn the technique if she was going to make a success of her own business. She managed a noncommittal “Uh-huh,” and tried to shift her thoughts from the fear of finding herself imminently homeless, to business wheeling and dealing.

  “I’ll put up the money to get a brochure done that will describe your services and include our logo and a short blurb. I want to get right on this. Also—”

  “I’ll want creative control of the brochure,” Melissa interrupted.

  A beat went by. “Naturally.”

  All right. Score one for me, she thought gleefully. By the time they’d hammered out a plan, Melissa was feeling euphoric about her new-found skills. And there was a lightness in her chest, like a weight had been lifted.

  It wasn’t till later, when Cindi had left and she wandered the quiet house once more, that she realized it was the weight of the house itself that had been lifted. The worry, and hopeless aim to keep a house she couldn’t afford and that didn’t fit her anymore, was over. In that moment she realized she’d made up her mind. She was moving on.

  That night, she was the one who called Seth.

  “Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  “All right. You?”

  She took a deep breath. “We need to tell the kids that we’re not going to Hawaii.”

  “I have a better idea. We go. We get married. We can make this work.”

  “I can’t marry you if I don’t believe you love me,” she said, feeling a pain in her chest, as though her heart was literally breaking.

  “I do love you. What the hell am I supposed to do to prove it?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  There was another of those awful pauses that punctuated their conversations ever since the day Cindi had first shown up in her driveway. Finally, he said in a low, expressionless tone, “All right.”

  “MELISSA, YOU HAVE TO marry Dad. We have to go to Hawaii.”

  Her heart went out to the little girl scowling at her. Laura’s eyes were puffy and dark-circled. Too much crying and not enough sleep, Melissa diagnosed the problem without a second’s hesitation, knowing she suffered the same ailment. “I’m sorry, honey.” She held out her arms, but the older twin took a step backward and scowled even more fiercely.

  “You promised! You said we’d be a family. We painted our room.”

  “It hurts me, too.” And it had hurt to see Seth’s face this morning when he’d dropped the girls off. Where the twins’ stormy expressions gave away all their feelings, his face gave nothing away. He’d locked up all his emotions.

  If she’d expected that he might try to win her back at seven forty-five in the morning, in her driveway, she was wrong.

  He was in the car, backing down the drive, the kids all in the house when she ran to the car and motioned for him to roll down the window.

  “Did you tell them Hawaii’s off?”

  He nodded. For a second, the blank expression cracked, and she had a glimpse of a man in pain. Then the mask was intact again.

  There was half an hour before she had to walk the kids to school. It was going to be a very long thirty minutes.

  Maybe another cup of coffee would help.

  “You’re a bum-head and I don’t want you for my sister anyway,” Matthew shouted. So much for that peaceful cup of coffee. She ran into the hallway and saw him halfway up the stairs, his face beet-red and his arms waving wildly.

  Alice was crying noisily. Jessie sat slumped and quiet on the hall stairs. And Laura, equally red in the face, was about to answer Matthew in kind.

  “Stop,” Melissa commanded. Her own heartbreak had to be put on hold for now, while she dealt with the very real pain in the young faces all around her.

  She picked up Alice and crooned softly.

  “But she called me—” Matthew blustered.

  “He said—” Laura shouted.

  “Stop,” she ordered again, in the voice that brooked no arguments. When she was certain the imminent battle was defused, she shepherded all four into the kitchen.

  The three older ones sat stiffly on chairs around the table, while Alice clung to Melissa’s leg in a way she hadn’t for a long time. It took some soothing words that almost choked in her throat, a few animal crackers and some juice before Alice would sit at the table, sniffing quietly.

  Melissa prepared three cups of hot chocolate and then poured herself that much-needed cup of coffee. Then she broke one of her rules and put a plate of chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the table. So they ate cookies at eight o’clock in the morning for once. What the hell.

  Although she felt a ripple of surprise flow round the table, it was a measure of their distress that not one of the kids reached for a cookie. Glancing at each face in turn, she read shock, anger, fear, disbelief…and from Laura, glaring back at her, blame. Keeping her gaze on the elder twin she said simply, “I’m so sorry about Hawaii. I know how much everyone was looking forward to going.” Her voice wavered piteously, and she swallowed hard.

  For an instant she glimpsed the naked hurt in the child’s eyes, then it was gone. “That’s crap.”

  “Laura.”

  “My dad still wants to marry you. He said so, and he never lies. It’s you. You don’t want us.”

  “I do. I do want you. This has nothing to do with you and Jessie. But sometimes adults make mistakes.” She stopped to regain control of her voice. “Your dad and I…” What? What could she tell them? She was terrified she couldn’t compare to their dead mother? Horribly afraid he was marrying her for convenience? “We need to take more time. It’s too soon.”

  “You pretended you loved him.”

  “I do love him.”

  Laura still glared, Jessie had yet to say a word, and Matthew hadn’t lost the belligerent, perplexed expression he’d worn ever since she’d explained to him that they weren’t going to Hawaii after all.

  “If you love him, why don’t you get married?” Laura challenged.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “I’m never getting married. It sucks.” Laura stared into her hot chocolate. “No Hawaii, no Bravo Boys concert. The whole thing sucks.”

  Ignoring Laura, Matthew glowered at his mother, his color blazing once again. “We have to go to Hawaii. The kids at school’ll call me a liar.”

  “We’ll go.”

  “When?”

  She sniffed miserably. “I don’t know, honey. Maybe next year?”

  “Next year?” He stormed to his feet, a study in impotent fury. “You’re all a bunch of boogers.” Then he stomped out of the kitchen.

  “I wanna go Hawaii,” Alice wailed, snuggling deeper.

  “Well, that went well. Call us next time you want another one of these little talks.” And with a jerk of her chin, Laura left the table, followed m
eekly by the still-silent Jessie.

  With a sigh, Melissa reached for a chocolate chip cookie.

  “I DON’T BELIEVE IT,” Pam said in a voice of amazement.

  “Don’t believe what?”

  “You have a butter mold. And it’s used—I think.”

  Melissa pulled a foil sack of coffee beans from the freezer. “Of course it’s used. It makes a really elegant star-shaped butter pat. I’ve also got a fleur-de-lis mold somewhere in that drawer. I don’t entertain anymore. Why don’t you take them?”

  “No. Really. A tub of margarine in the middle of the table is as elegant as I get.” She replaced the butter mold and got the coffee spoons out of the drawer. Then she reached for the mugs. They’d done this so often, they had an unspoken ritual.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pam.”

  “Are things any better with the kids?”

  Melissa made a face. “Armed neutrality. The twins barely speak to me, Matthew’s rude and uncooperative, and Alice pretty much whines every second she’s not sleeping.”

  “It’d be nice to ship them off to camp.”

  “Huh. Camp David maybe. Someplace where we could figure out how to declare a truce. Maybe I’m not going to be their stepmother, but I love those girls.”

  She poured the beans into the grinder. After the machine had finished roaring, she measured the freshly ground coffee into the coffeemaker and added cold water.

  “And the bodacious banker?”

  “He barely glances at me when he brings the girls and picks them up. He treats me like some evil home wrecker.”

  “Are you?”

  “What?” Melissa slopped the milk she was pouring into a jug on the counter.

  “I wonder if maybe you panicked. That’s all.”

  The milk puddle blurred before her eyes. “Maybe. It’s like we’re locked into this pattern and neither of us knows how to get to the next stage, you know?”

  “Yeah. I appreciate your scruples, but I’m not sure it would have ruined those kids forever if you’d gone ahead to Hawaii and tried a family vacation. Maybe you’d find out he really does love you.”

  “I don’t know. I already lost one husband to another woman. I’m not going to marry a man who’s in love with a ghost.” She poured two aromatic cups of coffee, passed one and then drank from her own.

  “He offered to move in here,” her neighbor reminded her.

  “And then I could feel guilty forever more for taking them away from all their good memories. I’m not that awful a person. I’m not.”

  “Life.” Pam shook her head.

  She stared out at the rain drizzling down the kitchen window pane. “We would have been on our way to Hawaii in a few days. With the family.”

  “I can understand you throwing over a handsome, successful man, but giving up two weeks in Hawaii?” Pam shook her head in mock despair.

  Melissa gave the requisite chuckle. “Think of the money I saved on sunscreen.”

  BEFORE THE KIDS WERE expected home, Melissa brushed her hair and freshened her makeup. It was silly, but her mother had always done it and somehow she’d fallen into the habit, too.

  In the mirror’s reflection, she noticed how tired her face appeared. A couple of lines she’d never noticed before had taken up permanent residence between her eyebrows. She was exhausted. Not only was she trying to police a war zone, she was the proud owner of her own business. Complete with business cards, brochures and letterhead from the ultra-efficient Cindi. If she hadn’t begged for mercy, she’d also be the proud owner of a Web site.

  And when she had little time for business, the calls had started to increase. Financially, she needed the work and somewhere deep down in her entrepreneurial soul, she was thrilled by each call. But the toll of trudging out to job sites, dredging up enthusiasm and enough creativity to wow clients and design fabulous gardens was leaving her seriously depleted.

  The irony was that her favorite current project had turned out to be the meditation garden. The part of her that craved quiet and peace and contemplative solitude yearned for such a place to escape to. And so it was easy to imagine the little trickling fountain, exactly there. The small stone bench here, under the shade of this maple. The lavender there, where its scent would soothe the soul.

  And, in between work, she pretended she didn’t notice Laura’s sarcasm, Jessie’s pained silence, Matthew’s boisterous rudeness or Alice’s whining. The children were working out their feelings. She tried to respect that.

  And Seth’s brooding anger. Which she knew was directed at himself as much as her.

  As for her own feelings, she’d tried to push them into a mental cupboard until she had time for them. Mostly, she was so busy they stayed locked up. But every once in a while, like now, she’d feel the overwhelming sadness.

  She picked up Alice from play school and drove home in a daze. What had she done? Was she really considering selling her home? She walked in and prepared lunch and then the girls went downstairs to the playroom.

  She was tidying the hall closet when the phone rang. Maybe it was Cindi canceling. But no, the woman’s voice said, “Is this Melissa Theisen?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Janice, Seth’s sister.”

  “Janice. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Listen, I get off early today. I’d love to buy you a coffee somewhere and, um, talk.”

  Seth’s sister wanted to talk to her? “Can I ask what it’s about?”

  A low laugh came through the phone. “It’s about my lunkhead of a brother.”

  “I can’t leave the house. My daughter’s napping. Would you like to come here for coffee?”

  “Sure. That would be fine.” She took the address and told Melissa she’d be there in fifteen minutes.

  Melissa ran into the kitchen and put coffee on. There were muffins left from breakfast, so she threw a few in a basket and got out napkins and cups. She felt like she’d had a lot of emotional conversations lately over coffee. Now she was entertaining Seth’s sister? What if the woman was coming to yell at her?

  Well, she thought, she might just yell back.

  But when Janice arrived ten minutes later, she didn’t look as though she was going to yell. She was dressed in black wool trousers and a blue blazer and she held a box of chocolates in her hand, which she pushed toward Melissa with a wry grimace. “I had no idea what to bring you, but chocolate always seems appropriate.”

  Melissa laughed, sensing that a chocolate offering meant she wasn’t going to be yelled at. “Thanks, come on in.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me calling. Seth would kill me if he knew I was interfering.” The flicker of hope that Seth had sent his sister to mediate on his behalf died.

  “I’ve got coffee on in the kitchen.”

  “Wonderful. Wow, your house is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  Melissa fussed around with coffee and muffins and Janice waited until she was sitting. Then she said, “I know this is pushy of me, and you can throw me out any time, but I wanted to beg you to give my brother another chance.”

  A feeling like an electric shock zapped through her. “He told you what happened?”

  Janice leaned forward looking anxious. “Please don’t think he was being disloyal. The thing is, we’ve always been close and I could see he was upset, so he told me you guys were having trouble.”

  “Trouble? Janice, I can’t believe he told you about us. Frankly, you’re the only person he has told. I feel like some dirty secret in his life.” She blew out a breath. “You’ve known him a lot longer, but I was there when we cleaned out Claire’s room. I knew then. I should have known. He was still in denial about her death.”

  Janice squeezed her hands together. They were plump and freckled, the kind of hands that could soothe a crying child or write for hours on a chalkboard. A teacher’s hands. “He’s come a long way since he met you.”

  “I can never be Claire,” she cried. “I’m jealous
of a dead woman.”

  The other woman reached forward suddenly and touched her hand. “No. You’re nothing like her.” She studied Melissa. “You’re obviously a more reserved person. Maybe a little more serious. And you’re right. He loved Claire with all his heart.” She swallowed and her voice grew hoarse. “We all loved Claire. She was like the sister I never had. And when they looked at each other you felt their love. But you know what’s funny? When you and Seth look at each other, I get the same feeling from you two. I thought to myself, after I met you, I can’t believe he got that lucky twice. And when we worked together that day cleaning out her room, I thought, maybe I’m going to get another sister.” She sniffed and Melissa passed her a box of tissues, then pulled out one for herself.

  “I never had a sister, either.”

  “I know he’s hopeless, but please don’t give up on him yet. He loves you.”

  “He didn’t tell anybody he works with. None of his friends. He didn’t tell anybody about me. How can he love me and hide me away like that?”

  “He’s never been a man to wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s more like you, reserved.” Janice plucked another tissue out of the box. “When Claire was dying, those terrible last months, he still went to the office every day. He did his job and I doubt any of the customers even noticed anything was wrong. That’s the kind of man he is. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have deep feelings just because he doesn’t show them.”

  “I don’t know, Janice. I’m so terrified of making another mistake.”

  “I think that’s what’s really bothering you. More than the house or Seth not telling people. You’re scared.”

  Melissa blinked at her.

  “Hey, I’m not criticizing. I’d be scared, too. It’s not easy trusting someone to love you forever. But what if it’s possible?”

  “What if?”

  “By the way, our parents are dying to meet you. They wanted to book Hawaii, as well, to be there for the wedding.”

  She felt her eyes widen. “They did?”

  “Sure. Seth told them it’s immediate family only. But they can come to the garden party to celebrate your marriage.”

  “He actually phoned his parents and told them about me? You’re not telling me that to make me feel better, are you?”