The Common Thread

by Jaime Maddox

  He shook his head at the thought of Billy, forcing away the anger at his betrayal. Billy had been with him from the beginning, when he was just using a hand-turned candy machine to crank out pills. He’d taken bigger risks in those days—transforming a bottle of a thousand tablets into two thousand during long, sleepless nights. Billy had been his neighbor growing up, and he was the one Simon turned to when he needed someone to push the drugs. Billy did well, most of the time, and he’d never made much trouble. Until now, anyway, but that was over. Billy and Katie were both dead, and the secrets they knew would be kept forever.

  Business had grown tremendously since that time. From the first candy press he’d purchased during his college days, he’d graduated to state-of-the-art machinery run by computers. Now, a large machine crushed the ingredients into a fine powder, precisely adding the fillers in the quantities the pharmacist specified. Another machine pressed the mixture into pills. They were air dried and sprayed with a coating and came out looking nearly identical to the original products, so much so that even Simon had a hard time distinguishing between the authentic and the counterfeit.

  “How is everything?” he asked his pharmacist.

  “No problems tonight.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Simon reached into his pocket and removed a wad of cash, handing the man $5,000. Not bad for three days’ work, considering he also drew a $100,000 salary for an imaginary job in the pharmacy up on the street level of this building. Not bad at all.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Comfort

  Not even the combined powers of nicotine and alcohol could give Nic the gift of peace she desperately needed. The ride home from the hospital had been understandably quiet, that fateful moment at her front door even more awkward than the typical conclusion of a first date. What could have been a wonderful time with Rae had disintegrated into a disaster, and she saw no way to repair the damage of their evening. Who went on a first date to an art museum and ended up in the hospital because her date’s long-lost sister (who happened to be a suspect in a homicide) had just been shot? Nic laughed as she thought about it, figuring at least Rae would have a good story to impress future dates. Worst date ever? No question about that one. We started out at the Barnes and ended up at the intensive-care unit…”

  Nic swirled her glass, noting with remorse that not much Ketel and tonic remained, mostly just ice. As much as she’d like another, she’d regret it tomorrow. All at once the alcohol would catch up with her, and she’d pass out and find herself in this same balcony chair in the morning, stiff and cold and with a pounding headache. Instead of another drink, she leaned back and thought about why she wanted one.

  How was she feeling? Angry, confused, bitter, and perhaps even a bit frightened. With whom was she angry? The Finans, for sure. She presumed they were both dead, but she wished they were alive so she could enjoy a brief moment of pleasure by giving them a piece of her mind. Who in the world separated twins? Why hadn’t they just given both children to the Coussarts if they couldn’t afford to raise both of them? It wouldn’t have been a sacrifice for her parents to have two girls. In fact, it probably would have made their life much easier, for Nic would have had a playmate and not have spent her childhood pestering them. And they’d offered to take both. Jeannie had told her that. How could the Finans be that selfish?

  And to never tell Katie she was adopted was unbelievable as well. Nic could understand keeping that information from her as a child, but didn’t they understand the medical consequences of genetics? What if their mother had breast cancer or some other treatable-if-detected disease? Nic had submitted to genetic testing when it became commercially available, to help ease some of her concerns, but she’d considered that option only because she knew she was adopted. Thankfully, her testing revealed no unwanted surprises and, instead of fear, filled her with relief.

  Nic supposed the way Katie had turned out proved the Finans were awful parents, and each time she reviewed it in the courtroom of her mind she found more evidence to support her verdict. The Finans were jerks.

  At the moment, she had to lump her own parents in the same category. They had no right to keep this information from her. Protecting her from disappointment as a child was understandable, but by the time she was a teenager she was certainly mature enough to handle the truth. It was her right to know, and in her opinion, their failure to tell her was a huge lie. The biggest. She couldn’t fault them for adopting her—someone else would have taken her if they hadn’t, because apparently the Finans weren’t going to raise her. But they should have told her she had a sister. Period.

  A sister was the only gift her parents couldn’t give her, the only thing she’d ever asked of them that they didn’t provide. They’d patiently explained that babies were gifts from God, and they didn’t want to ask for too many blessings since they already were so lucky to have her.

  So Nic had bypassed them and gone directly to the source, all of them, because she was never quite sure who the real God was. She’d knelt beside her bed, praying to the Jewish God of her father and the Catholic God her mother worshipped, and even talked to Buddha, because the family next door did, and what if they were the ones who had it right?

  All she’d wanted in the world was a sister to keep her company. Someone to play with and talk to, someone to take the spotlight off her and give her parents another one to annoy once in a while. A confidante, who would share her secrets and keep them safe.

  Nic remembered that strange time before the junior prom when all the girls were going soft in the head, their thoughts possessed by boys and dresses and flowers. “What’s wrong with you?” her best friend had asked. “Everyone wants to go to the prom.” She wanted to tell her, to share this secret that had been growing within her, watered by hormones and threatening every day to erupt. And with that opportunity she’d confided in her best friend that she liked girls. They were best friends no longer.

  How differently that would have gone if she’d had Katie to talk to.

  Katie, I don’t want to go to the prom unless I can take a girl.”

  Oh, really? You, too? Well, should we just host a big party and invite all the boycotters?”

  Great, let’s make a guest list.”

  She’d had a wonderful, privileged, lonely childhood. Had she sensed the loss of her twin, subconsciously aware that Katie was out there?

  It was infuriating, and at the moment she wondered if she’d ever speak to her parents again. At the moment, it wasn’t looking good for them.

  And Jeannie was in on this, too. Jeannie, her practical, sensible, morbidly honest aunt, who was a voice of reason and giver of sound advice. Well, Jeannie clearly hadn’t given this situation careful enough consideration. She knew about Katie and had kept quiet—hell, she was even her doctor! She had a relationship with her.

  Couldn’t Jeannie have said something, if not to Nic, then at least to Katie? Raised the hypothetical questions?

  “Suppose you were adopted, Katie. Now that your parents are dead, would you want to know? Would you like to perhaps be in touch with your biological siblings?”

  No, okay.”

  Yes, well, in that case, do I have a story to tell you.”

  Louis was right up there with everyone else, too. Just because he’d learned this troubling piece of information, why did he have to share it with her? It was another situation where some hypothetical questioning could have done some good.

  Nic, suppose you had an identical twin? She’s a drug dealer and wanted by the police for murdering her boyfriend, and she’s quite possibly dying in the SICU. Would you like to see her? Say hello and bond?”

  No? Well, I don’t blame you. Yes? Are you sure, because as your friend I have to tell you this could be a life-altering event. Still yes? Well, if you’re sure…”

  This was a gigantic conspiracy, and all the people in her world whom she loved and trusted had betrayed her. She literally didn’t have anyone to talk to about thi
s. No one.

  Nic sucked on an ice cube and closed her eyes. In the back of her mind lurked another issue as troubling as the others. It had popped up several times over the past few hours, but she’d pushed it back down as her anger and confusion consumed her instead. But there it was again, the nagging uncertainty of what if. What if the Finans had taken both of them? Or if they’d taken Nic instead of Katie? Would it be her in that SICU bed sucking on an ET tube?

  Nic liked to take credit for her success. She’d studied and worked hard to get the grades and the volunteer hours she needed for medical school. She’d sacrificed extracurricular activities and ski-club trips to Vermont, skipped parties while other people were skipping classes. No one had handed her an admission slip just because her parents had medical degrees. She’d earned it.

  But what if? What if her parents were dead and she didn’t have their guidance? What if she didn’t have their money and had to get a job on the weekends? Spending her time working instead of studying might have influenced her grades. She’d written the essay and submitted it to the chief of staff—the one that earned her a prized summer internship shadowing doctors, the one that was the basis of the essay she then wrote for her medical-school applications.

  But even though she’d gotten the internship herself, she probably wouldn’t even have known about the program if her parents weren’t on staff at the hospital. She’d received privileges from the ER doctors there, who allowed her to wander into their sphere when she accompanied her parents to the hospital. She could literally just stop by for an hour and look at x-rays or watch procedures, coming and going as her schedule allowed. That experience was one she wouldn’t have enjoyed without the connections her parents had made during their medical careers.

  She shook her head, chasing away the thoughts. She was the master of her own destiny, and no one else. Louis came from a working-class family; no one in his family had even gone to college before him. And he’d made it. Katie Finan could have made different choices, and she didn’t, and that’s why she was in this dreadful state. It had nothing to do with Nic. Nothing.

  The lights twinkling in the distance suddenly seemed comforting, or was that the alcohol taking effect? She thought of Rae and realized she was lucky to have met her. She wished it had been a different day, but she couldn’t have done anything to change it. No use dwelling on it.

  She ought to apologize to Rae. While she’d done nothing wrong, she couldn’t help but feel badly for the mess she’d put upon her new friend. Rae had handled it so well. Offering quiet support, she’d sat next to Nic while they were talking with Jeannie, and then on the ride home, she’d allowed Nic the quiet she needed. Instead of forcing conversation she paid attention on the very important matter of getting them home safely.

  It was certainly more than Nic would have done if Rae had been the one with all the drama this night. Nic would probably have fled about the time she dropped her date off at the hospital, running fast in the other direction. She didn’t need chaos in her life, especially other people’s. It was one of the most annoying parts of her job. All her coworkers loved to share the details of their marriages and their children’s successes, but the divorces and failures were the topics that never died. Nic couldn’t tolerate it, and she made avoiding trouble a habit.

  Rae had done just the opposite. She’d been dragged into this, dragged away from the peaceful evening she’d been enjoying, and she’d barely even batted an eyelash when confronted with the peculiar circumstances of the first minutes of Nicole’s life. Rae was a special person, just like Louis. And then Nic laughed as she realized she was ticked off at Louis for revealing the very same information she was blaming others for withholding.

  Nic stood, opened the door, and entered the apartment. She rinsed the glass and set it out to dry, then took a hot shower, washing away the smoke and germs of the hospital, trying to talk herself out of the impulse that was gnawing at her. After she’d brushed her teeth and could no longer make an excuse not to, she went into the hallway and knocked on Rae’s door.

  “Hi,” Rae said as soon as she opened the door.

  Nic could no longer control the emotions she’d been fighting. Her parents would have disapproved, but at the moment, pleasing them wasn’t important. Tears began falling just as Rae closed her arms around her, pushing the door shut in the process. Burying her face in Rae’s neck, Nic clung to her and sobbed, comforted by the warmth of her and the strength that seemed to seep from Rae’s pores. She longed to catch some, to soak it up and absorb it and let it become the glue that held her together.

  It seemed an eternity later that Nic pulled back to see the sad smile on Rae’s face. She’d held her silently, not bothering with meaningless words, but had stroked her back, occasionally running her fingers through Nic’s hair. Nic understood there wasn’t much to say, and she appreciated that, once again, Rae didn’t give in to the temptation to fill the silence with unnecessary words.

  Rae reached for the tissue box on the hall table, pulled one out and hesitated, then grabbed the box and handed it to Nic instead. “Do you want to come in and sit down?” she asked after Nic had dried her tears.

  Nic nodded and followed Rae the few feet into the living room, where a plush leather couch beckoned. Suddenly, she felt exhausted.

  She collapsed against the soft leather, but Rae remained standing. “Can I get you a drink? I have wine. And vodka.”

  Nic was touched that Rae had noticed her drink preference, but she shook her head. “I’ve already tried that, and it didn’t work.”

  “How about some chocolate-chip cookie dough?”

  Rae wore an expectant expression, and Nic was suddenly again reminded of how attractive she was. The soft-looking cotton Phillies boxers and a ribbed tank pushed her far over the top of sexy. “You’re so cute,” she said, before her brain could prevent her thoughts from morphing into words. What about Rae made her suddenly unable to control the expression of the thoughts she usually kept so closely guarded? It was so unlike her.

  Rae winked and then disappeared toward her kitchen.

  Perhaps the drink was finally doing its job, for when Nic closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, she actually began to relax. Or perhaps fatigue was finally catching up with her. She’d been restless last night, and today was nearly twenty hours old. Her body’s ability to pull all-nighters was clearly fading as she approached thirty.

  Oh. She was thirty. This was her birthday. Opening her eyes, she sat up to see Rae emerging with two dessert cups in hand. As she offered one to Nic, Nic looked up at her. “It’s my birthday, Rae. I’m thirty years old. I’m supposed to have it all together by now, but my life’s a fucking mess!”

  Rae sat down, studying Nic as she nibbled a spoonful of cookie dough. “Well, first of all, happy birthday. It seems sort of a strange thing to say under the circumstances, but it is good, Nic. You’re alive. Your sister might not be. All those other people at the hospital—they have bigger problems than you do. So if you look at it from that perspective, you do have many reasons to be happy.”

  “It could always be worse,” Nic said as she stared from the cookie dough to Rae. “One of the best fringe benefits of my job is a daily reminder that it could always be worse.” Nic took a bite, chewed a chocolate chip, and licked her lips. “Got milk?”

  Rae’s eyes twinkled. “I was saving it for later, to serve with the cake…but since you asked…”

  Rae disappeared into the kitchen, and Nic closed her eyes again. She didn’t open them until the sound of footsteps told her the milk had arrived.

  “Thank you,” she said, and they sat silently as they ate and drank. When Nic finished her treat, she stood and took the cups and glasses into the kitchen, where she rinsed them and put them into the dishwasher.

  “Did you really just wash the dishes?” Rae asked.

  Nic shrugged. “Habit,” she said.

  “Well, thanks.”

  As Nic looked at Rae, her eyes filled with tears a
gain, and as she sat, she felt Rae’s arms around her once more. “I feel so betrayed, Rae. They all lied to me.”

  “Yes, they did,” she said softly as she kissed the top of Nic’s hair, still wet from her recent shower.

  “And what about her? I have a twin! My whole fucking life I wanted a sister, and now I find out she’s a life-long criminal and it probably doesn’t matter, because she’s probably dead already.” Her words were punctuated by sobs and sniffles, and when she finished, she cried even harder.

  “So you don’t have any other siblings?” Rae asked, still holding Nic tight.

  Nic sniffled. “No. How about you?”

  Rae eased back on the couch and pulled Nic with her, so Nic’s head was resting on her chest. She pulled a blanket over them, and Nic snuggled into her, marveling at how wonderful it felt to be held, how safe she felt with Rae.

  “Yes, I have two. A sister about two years younger, and a brother seven years younger.”

  “What are their names?”

  “Rhonda and Ricky.”

  Nic pulled back and looked at Rae, trying to control her laughter. When she saw the smile forming on Rae’s face, she knew it was safe to tease her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Rachael, Rhonda, and Ricky? What were they thinking?”

  “I’ve been asking that since they were born.”

  Nic pushed herself off Rae and off the couch, then, after extinguishing the lights, resumed her position.

  “You really make yourself at home, don’t you?” Rae said.

  The kitchen light was still on, and Nic could see the smile on Rae’s face. “You look too comfortable to ask you to move. But don’t change the subject. I have to know what kind of people would do this to their children. What are your parents’ names?”

  “You don’t want to know.”