Stacy came in first, complaining about how Rosie had stolen her nail polish…again. Rosie was flatly denying it even as she kept her hands noticeably hidden behind her back. Livy, Addy’s very non-identical twin, followed the other two, picking up the toys and books they left discarded on the floor. Addy grinned at her twin across the room. In spite of the mayhem, Livy sensed Addy’s gaze and returned her smile.
All the sisters looked just like their mother…all of them, that was, except Addy. Addy’s sisters all shared their parents’ brown hair, brown eyes, and soft features. Neither of Addy’s parents was tall, her father coming in at 5’6” and her mother barely hitting 5’, and the rest of her sisters were similarly petite. Even Addy’s twin barely made it to 5’1”…in shoes.
Addy, on the other hand, looked nothing like any of them. She alone had coppery-red hair and green eyes, which she inherited from Great-Great-Grandma Ellen. She also inherited Ellen’s freakish height of 6’1”. It made her stick out like a sore thumb, or a giant, in the Deerborn crowd. It also made for the world’s most ridiculous Christmas card photo.
There weren’t any pictures of Great-Great-Grandma Ellen—and even if there were, they would have been in black-and-white—but Addy’s mom told her that’s who she could thank for the features that Livy said made her look like a model. Addy just thought she looked like the giant that Jack killed…if he had been a ginger.
Addy’s dad always joked that the temper tantrums she’d thrown during her “terrible two’s” had given her parents gray hair and turned Addy’s red. That was also around the time her parents started calling her Firecracker Addy. All these years later, the nickname stuck. It was a nickname Addy much preferred over her twin’s equally-deserved one of Sweet Livy.
“Mo-om!” Stacy called from across the kitchen. She was chasing Rosie back through the swinging door into the living room. Addy caught the door before it hit Baby Lucy in the face and eased it shut.
“Never a dull moment around here.” Addy’s mom smiled as she wiped her hands on her jeans and moved over to the colander of green beans.
Addy’s middle sisters came back into the kitchen. Stacy held the bottle of nail polish victoriously over her head while Rosie jumped up and down, trying to steal it back.
“Jeez, Mom,” Stacy said eyeing their mother’s grease-stained jeans. “Can we buy you some new pants the next time we go to the mall? Puh-lease?”
“But these ones are fine,” their mom replied. She patted her leg. “Plenty of life left.”
“Debatable,” Stacy muttered.
Their mom wore what Stacy complained were “Mom jeans” and the same plain, cotton shirt that came in six different solid colors at Wal Mart (their mom never tired of bragging that they were buy one, get one 50% off). One of their mom’s favorite sayings was never buy something without a discount. The other was family, corn, and God, in that order.
“Set the table, girls,” Addy’s mom said. “We’re having an early dinner because I need to take Aunt Meredith back to the airport, and I don’t want her to miss the celebration.”
“Celebration?” Addy asked, taking the ear of corn her aunt handed her and shucking it over the compost bin.
“Do you think I’d come all the way up to the Arctic for anything less than a celebration?” Aunt Meredith asked.
“We don’t live in the Arctic,” Rosie informed their aunt.
At ten years of age, Rosie was always trying to keep up with her older sisters.
“You don’t?” Aunt Meredith glanced around, feigning confusion. “Then why is it so cold here?”
“It’s because you’re from Texas and we live in New York,” Rosie replied with confidence.
“She was joking, stupid,” Stacy, three years older than Rosie, informed her younger sister. Stacy and Rosie bickered worse than the Cluckers.
Lucy looked at Stacy and started to cry.
“Girls, stop fighting,” their mom said. “You’re upsetting Baby Lucy.”
“She isn’t a baby anymore,” Rosie informed their mom.
Their mom just smiled.
Livy opened her arms to Lucy, while Addy snatched the stuffed animal Lucy had dropped onto the floor and offered it to the baby.
“Seriously, Mom.” Stacy threw up her hands. “Can’t you wash Chicken Little? That thing is smelling worse than usual.”
They all looked at the stuffed animal Lucy was clutching and using to wipe her tears. Rosie had named the stuffed animal Chicken Little when Aunt Meredith first gave it to Lucy. Even though the toy was a duck and not a chicken, the name prevailed.
There was the sound of boots being scraped against the side of the house, and then the back door slammed.
“Livy-Addy-Stacy-Rosie-Lucy!” their dad called from the mudroom. “Where’s my fabulous five?”
“Daddy’s home!” Stacy and Rosie shrieked. They raced for the back door, pushing and arguing as they went.
Addy’s father came into the kitchen, a daughter clinging to each of his legs. He smiled, the corners of his eyes folding in the oft-practiced gesture. He rolled up the sleeves of his faded shirt—his uniform was flannel, jeans, and work boots, no matter the season—and combed his unruly tuft of graying brown hair with his fingers.
“Hello, darling.” Addy’s mom stepped around Rosie, who was still clinging to their father’s pantleg, and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek.
Addy looked at her family swarming around the kitchen. She loved them all so much it physically hurt. Everything was so warm and familiar.
And yet, even as she was surrounded by all of them, she couldn’t help the disembodied sense that she didn’t quite belong with the rest of them. It was a feeling she got from time to time, and it had nothing to do with her red hair, green eyes, and height. It was a sense that she was an outsider staring in on someone else’s family.
✽✽✽
Addy thought it was a miracle when they all managed to sit down at the table. Stacy and Rosie were still arguing, Baby Lucy was clutching Chicken Little, and their mom and Aunt Meredith were doling out food. When Rosie accidentally-on-purpose flicked a crumb across the table in the general direction of Addy, Addy was immediately prepared to return fire with a salt potato poised on the edge of her fork.
Livy gave Addy a meaningful glance, knowing what she meant to do before she did it, and gave Rosie a tolerant smile. Addy gave her twin a What? I wasn’t going to do anything look.
Addy had read that twins shared their own special language, and she and Livy were no exception. But as much as they could communicate without talking and knew each other inside and out, they were as different as two people could be. Aside from the more obvious physical differences between them, their personalities were complete opposites, too. There was a reason their parents called them Firecracker Addy and Sweet Livy. Addy was always the one causing some kind of mayhem, and Livy was the one who covered for her.
While Livy cut up Baby Lucy’s meat into tiny pieces, Addy contented herself with making funny faces that made their youngest sister giggle and squeal.
Their dad cleared his throat. “Before we eat, we have a surprise for Livy and Addy.”
Addy exchanged a look with her twin. Livy ducked lower in her chair; she hated being the center of attention. Addy, on the other hand, had no problem with being the center of attention. The only issue was that, in a house of seven, she was usually getting it for forgetting to shut the chicken coop or bribing one of her younger sisters to do her chores so she could spend her afternoons tinkering with cars in Fred’s garage.
“Is it a Porsche?” Addy asked.
Addy loved cars. Big ones, old ones, fast ones. Especially fast ones. If she ever became a criminal, she’d want to be the getaway driver.
Aunt Meredith snorted. “That should have been your sixteenth birthday present, not your eighteenth.”
“Good point,” Addy said. She turned to her dad. “You owe me a Porsche and a Lamborghini.”
Gary Deerborn frowned. “You
know any car without all-wheel drive wouldn’t make it out of the garage after the first snowfall.”
“Gary, dear,” her mom said, “Addy’s just pulling your leg.”
He paused, one finger still raised in the air while he considered that, and then slowly lowered it.
Livy narrowed her eyes at her twin. Addy shrugged, feeling a bit chastened.
“Now, Livy and Addy,” their mom said, “close your eyes.”
They did.
There was rustling and whispering, and then came the command to open their eyes.
There were balloons tied to Addy and Livy’s chairs and a giant sheet cake with Happy 18th Birthday and Congratulations on Cornell! written in green icing. Addy looked up from the cake and saw that her sisters were wearing identical shirts. The shirts were green with white lettering that read “Ithaca is Gorges.” Even Baby Lucy had one. Her parents and Aunt Meredith were wearing red T-shirts with Cornell University in huge white lettering stretched across the front.
“We’re so proud of you both,” their mom said, wiping away a tear.
“Our little miracles.” Their dad beamed at them.
It was what their parents had called Livy and Addy since they were born. The doctor had told their parents they might not be able to conceive, but then, a year later, the twins were born. Stacy, Rosie, and Baby Lucy had followed.
Their mom handed Livy and Addy their own Cornell T-shirts. Livy immediately pulled hers on over the shirt she was wearing. Addy left hers on the table, forcing a smile on her face as she echoed Livy’s thank you’s.
“Open your presents,” Stacy demanded.
There were two wrapped gifts propped against the kitchen table. Addy picked hers up. It was heavy.
Livy was carefully unsticking the tape from each corner of the package to keep from ripping the paper. Addy tore hers off in half a second. It was her acceptance letter to Cornell, framed. Her eyes skimmed over the words she’d already read.
Dear Adelyne Deerborn,
It is with great pleasure that I write to inform you that you have been accepted for admission to the Cornell University College of Agriculture and Life Sciences….
“Ohmygosh!” Livy exclaimed when she finally unwrapped her gift.
It was the same frame, same politely enthusiastic wording in the acceptance letter, same photocopied signature of the Dean of Admissions. The only difference was that her letter was addressed to “Olivia Deerborn.”
“Thank you!” Livy brushed away a tear before rising to hug their parents.
“Yes, thank you,” Addy said, going to do the same.
Cornell had always been Livy and their parents’ dream. It wasn’t Addy’s.
Livy was the one who fell asleep with open textbooks on her lap. She was the one who spent the little money she had on hardcover copies of Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre. Addy, on the other hand, had always done well on the exams their mother gave them without putting much effort into studying. Her assignments came easily to her, but she got no enjoyment out of her success. She did well in her studies because she had no reason not to, but she didn’t share any of her twin’s passion.
Addy felt a little numb except for the tightness in her chest. She rubbed at the place above her collarbone, trying to release the tension that restricted her breathing every time she thought about the future…the future that didn’t hold even a glimmer of uncertainty. But she kept her smile in place. She could never tell any of them, not even Livy. They wouldn’t understand the way she sometimes felt trapped, like she needed to just get the hell out or she’d go completely crazy….
“And the best part is Cornell’s only an hour away,” her dad was saying, “so we’ll be able to visit whenever you want.”
Her sisters all cheered. Addy tried to breath.
She could never admit to any of them that she felt like something was missing. How could she explain that she felt like she was part of this family, but also separate from them? She could never tell them that she often felt alone even when she was surrounded by all of them.
Addy knew she was being horrible and ungrateful. Her family was wonderful, and they loved her. She loved them back, more than anything in the entire world.
She didn’t understand herself sometimes. She should be happy. And yet, she couldn’t help wondering if this was all there was. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself from wishing for more, even if she had no idea what more might entail.
Addy pulled on the Cornell University shirt and forced a smile onto her face.
✽✽✽
They dug into the food, and for a few moments, the only sounds were the scraping of forks and knives on plates.
“Mmm.” Addy’s dad stamped his foot on the ground in satisfaction as he chewed. “Sue, this has got to be the best meal I’ve had in my entire life.”
Addy’s mom smiled at her dad. He said those same words every night.
He opened his mouth to speak, and as he did so, Addy mimed his every word along with him.
“Fresh meat from the Jones’, sweet corn from our own fields, and apple pie made with apples from the Davis’.”
Addy even mimicked the hand gestures her father used. She did it all for the benefit of her younger sisters, who snickered into their glasses of milk (fresh from the Browns’ farm, of course). Even Livy was trying not to laugh. Her parents didn’t notice.
“This, my girls,” their dad continued, “is the real American Dream.”
Addy finished with a flourish of her hand that matched her father’s exactly.
Aunt Meredith, who had been watching Addy, snorted.
“Bravo,” she said.
Addy’s father beamed.
“How are your cattle doing, Aunt Meredith?” Livy asked as she cut a single green bean into three even pieces.
Aunt Meredith swallowed her mouthful of corn and shook her head. “Strange things have been happening lately.” She shoved in another bite. “Last week, there was an earthquake. It was strong enough to wake me.” Aunt Meredith turned to her sister. “Remember that glass vase Grandma Mildred left me? It fell out of the cabinet and shattered.”
“I never liked that vase,” Sue mused.
“Yeah, but the darndest part was that when I mentioned it in town, no one else had felt it. There wasn’t a word about it in the news, either.” She shook her head. “It seemed like it was only on my property.”
Addy saw her parents exchange a worried look, but Aunt Meredith didn’t notice. Her aunt laughed and then elbowed Stacy, who was sitting next to her. “You think that’s why your parents gave me the house?”
“Shh, Meredith,” their mom said.
For some reason Addy couldn’t understand, her mom’s face was pinched with anxiety. Her parents got weird sometimes for no real reason. They were worriers, which was why they homeschooled all of their daughters and never let Addy go visit Aunt Meredith, or go anywhere else for that matter. Addy had learned that when her parents got in one of their worrying states, the only thing to do was wait until the wind shifted and their moods blew over.
“Alright,” their dad said in a too-bright voice. “Let’s clean up.”
Addy saw her aunt raise her eyebrows. Addy’s mom shook her head. Whatever question Aunt Meredith had asked and her mother had answered, her aunt didn’t like the response. Aunt Meredith’s mouth thinned in the way it did whenever anyone said they were voting for a Democrat.
“Sue,” Aunt Meredith began.
Addy’s dad, who almost never raised his voice, said, “Leave it, Meredith,” in a way that brooked no argument.
Aunt Meredith glared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. Whatever they were talking about, she let it drop. It was probably something about farm boundaries or head of cattle. Addy’s parents didn’t have interesting secrets.
There was a loud thump that made them all turn their heads. Livy had fallen onto the floor, her head cracking against the linoleum.
“Quickly,” their mom sai
d, but there was no need for it.
Addy was already by Livy’s side. She eased her twin’s head off the floor, while Aunt Meredith pushed a folded jacket under her neck to keep Livy from hitting her head again. Stacy was two seconds behind with an ice pack for Livy’s forehead. Addy took her sister’s hand and watched as Livy’s eyelids fluttered and incoherent sounds came from her parted lips.
“It’s okay,” they all said, as soon as Livy stopped jerking and opened her eyes. “You’re okay.”
Livy looked confused for a moment. She was always disoriented after. Sometimes she was scared, and it took a while to calm her down. The seizures used to come only once or twice a month, but lately, they were coming more like once or twice a week. Livy had been through every test the doctors had, but none of them could find any reason for the seizures she’d had ever since Addy could remember.
“How long was I out for?” Livy asked when she found her voice.
“A few seconds,” their dad told her.
“Did I say anything crazy?” Livy asked Addy. She never remembered what had happened during the seizure when she woke up.
“Just had some crazy eyes,” Addy told her, smoothing her sweaty hair off her forehead and squeezing her clammy hand.
“You feeling alright?” their mom asked.
“Fine.” Livy reached up to rub the back of her head and winced. “I just wish I didn’t always have to go head-first.”
“You could wear my bike helmet,” Rosie offered.
“Absolutely not.” Stacy clutched her heart. “That would give her helmet hair.”
Livy gave them an apologetic smile as Addy helped her to her feet.
“Come on girls,” their mom said, giving Livy one more appraising stare before going back to the dishes. “I have to take Aunt Meredith back to the airport, and Rosie and Stacy, you have assignments to do.”
Both of them groaned.
“Why can’t we go to regular school with regular teachers?” Stacy grumbled.
“Because I can teach you better than any teacher,” their mom replied. “And this way, you can be with your sisters and help out around the farm.” It was her standard response any time any of them (usually Addy) complained about being homeschooled.
Steel for 5 (Mags & Nats Book 3) Page 37