“He couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving,” she concluded. “That’s why I’m not so terribly upset about going right back. Don’t tell Mother any of this.” She paused, but before I could say a word, she added, “You look good. You look . . . older. You have something to tell me, too, don’t you?”
“I like the school. It’s called Littlefield.”
“Yes, Daddy told me. Not too snobby?”
“I get along with the girls I want to get along with.”
“And? Come on. I told you my secret. Tell me something no one knows.”
“It’s not a secret. I’ve been seeing one boy.”
“Good. Let’s hear about that. He’s not coming here for Thanksgiving, is he? I mean, I hope he is.”
“No. He has a family, Haylee.”
“Right.” She shrugged. “Some other time, maybe. So? Don’t just sit there like Buddha, Kaylee. Talk.”
How much should I tell her? I wondered. My memory of our sharing secrets and dreams was somewhere inside a fog. Too much had happened for me simply to return to the comfort we’d once had when we revealed intimate thoughts to each other.
“I didn’t get into any social life for a while, Haylee. It wasn’t easy getting used to being away.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Anyway,” I said, ignoring her, “we’ve gone out only a few times, so there’s not much to say other than I like him. He’s very bright, witty, and—”
“Good-looking, I hope.”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name? You know that by now, right?” she asked, smirking.
“Very funny. Troy.”
“Troy.” She sat back and repeated it as if she were trying it on for size. “I like it. I hate boys with ordinary names. It shows that their parents have no imagination. At least Mother came up with interesting names for us. Everyone says so. What kind of dates did you have?”
“Rides, pizza.”
“And?”
“I’ve been to his home.”
“And?”
“That’s it,” I said firmly.
Her eyes pooled with disappointment, but a new thought brightened them. “What do you know about Daddy’s girlfriend? Are they living together? He didn’t talk much when he brought me over here. He could have been a limo driver. So?”
“She’s very nice, witty, and funny.”
“Can’t you come up with more? Witty. What’s witty, anyway?”
“Someone with interesting conversation, insights. Not boring to talk to,” I explained. “Loquacious.”
“Very funny. Always the English teacher.” She looked down. “I’ve probably fallen so far behind in school. They have classes, but they’re run by teachers who look terrified most of the time. And so many in my classes are so backward that most of the time is spent on remedial work. Anyway,” she said, getting off the bed, “I don’t want to think about it. Let’s just think about what to wear at dinner. Who’s going to be here? Not Daddy and his girlfriend, so who?”
“Just us, Mother, and Irene.”
“Who is this Irene? She looks like she belongs where I am.”
“She’s very nice, Haylee, and has done Mother a lot of good. She’s a psychiatric nurse.”
“I knew it. More analysis and eyes full of microscopes. Okay. We’ll make the best of it.” She opened her closet. “What to wear, what to wear. I haven’t had that to think about for some time, although Cedar said it wouldn’t matter, I’d look great in a sack. That’s where he would like to get me, by the way. We’re working on it.”
“Why don’t we each choose something and then see what we’ve picked?” I suggested.
“Testing? You expect we’ll miraculously choose the same thing? Want to see if we still would?”
“Maybe,” I said nonchalantly.
“You are different.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you’re not telling me everything, but you will,” she said. “You will.”
She hadn’t lost her self-confidence. That was certain.
“I forgot what I had in this closet. And these colors Mother chose for my room are making me nuts. Maybe I’ll sleep with you tonight.”
“That would really hurt Mother. Not a wise thing to do, Haylee.”
“I suppose you’re right. Pretend, pretend, pretend. I thought those days were gone. You’re actually very lucky to be living away from this place.”
“I had no choice,” I said. She was bordering on forcing me to break our pinkie promise, and she knew it.
“Well, I’m taking a shower and doing my fingers and toenails, something I haven’t done since I don’t know when. I want to put on some makeup, too. We’re not permitted to do that. We’re lucky to be able to brush our teeth.”
I stood there waiting to see just how much she was going to tell me about her treatment and life in the institution.
She glanced at me and seemed to snap back into the present. “Oh, I forgot those black suede booties. Remember when I talked Mother into buying them for us? She practically measured the heels on each pair to the tenth of a millimeter to be sure they were exact.”
“I’d better go and consider my wardrobe, or I’ll be influenced about what to choose,” I said.
The truth was that this initial confronting of her and the way she was behaving were making me a little sick inside. I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d been hoping for, but I knew it had something to do with some sign of remorse. She was more like Mother, sweeping the recent past under the rug and finding blame with anyone who made the slightest reference to it. To survive simply meant to forget. Shelve the nightmares and bury the anger, unless you wanted to live with hate and vengeance alive and well at your side. Haylee’s psychiatrist and my therapist were on the same page when it came to moving forward. Maybe my father was right the first time. Therapy and psychoanalysis were all voodoo. No one was guilty. Everything was the fault of some twisted psychological issue. Right and wrong had meaning only on final school exams.
Haylee had said she was sorry, but she had also rationalized it well. I was sure she had used those excuses from the day she was caught and probably believed them all herself now. What point was there in expecting anything more?
I did like those booties Haylee had mentioned, but I also liked my tan suede-tasseled ankle boots with the zippered sides. They had only one-inch heels. I had worn them just once and had not taken them with me to Littlefield. I selected the camel-colored dress to wear with them. It had a tan belt. I decided not to wear any makeup. I was consciously trying to be different from Haylee now. The novelty of miraculously choosing the same things to wear whenever we were left to do it was gone.
Were the Mirror Sisters gone?
Haylee was still working on her makeup when I stepped out to go downstairs. She was sitting at her vanity table in her bra and panties and didn’t see me look into her room. I stepped away quickly.
“I’ll be downstairs,” I called, and hurried away before she could ask to see what I had chosen to wear.
Mother and Irene were changing by now, too. I could smell all the wonderful foods they had prepared and glanced into the oven to see how the turkey was coming along. In the refrigerator, I saw the homemade cranberry sauce. Mother had worked so hard on this dinner. It was as if she believed one meal could work miracles.
Irene was the next to appear. She complimented me on how nice I looked. With both Mother and Haylee still getting ready, I had a chance to talk more frankly to Mother’s caretaker.
“Do you really think she’s ready to live on her own? I won’t be here, and my guess is neither will Haylee for a while,” I said.
“The last few weeks, I’ve deliberately faded into the background to see how she would do. She keeps busy. She has plans to do much more redecorating. I think she believes that if she changes the physical surroundings, she will wash away the bad memories. It’s not unusual. The other day, she met one of her friends, Melissa Clark, in the supermarket, and they talked for quite a while. I heard them make
plans to get together in the near future. She’s learned how to handle the questions and the sympathy well. There’s a point where if you don’t get her away from being dependent, she never will be independent. Everyone will check on her. She’ll be fine.”
Her words cheered me. Maybe we could have something close to a nice Thanksgiving after all, I thought. When Mother appeared, she did look beautiful. She wore diamond-studded earrings with her diamond necklace, something my father had given her on their tenth anniversary. It was a good sign that she could handle those memories and not cast out the evidence of what had once been a happier time. Her turquoise pleated A-line dress brought out her healthier complexion. She was always good at being subtle with her makeup.
“You look beautiful, Mother,” I said.
“Thank you, dear. So do you. Where’s Haylee?”
“Coming,” I said. “What can I do to help?”
“Irene and I decided you’d both be our guests today. Just enjoy,” she told me.
“Ta-da!” we heard Haylee sing and looked at the stairway as she descended.
We couldn’t have been more different. She wore a short, silky black dress sprinkled with blue, peach, and red dots over a white turtleneck and a pair of black tights. And of course, her black booties. Her makeup was a little heavy, but she wasn’t unattractive. She paused halfway down and pointed at me.
“Surprised?”
“No,” I said. “You look very nice, Haylee,” I added quickly.
“Very nice,” Mother said. “Both of you. Go wait in the living room,” she ordered. “We’ll ring the dinner bell.”
“I just had to wear this,” she said, hurrying to join me when I turned toward the living room. “I wish there was a way to sneak it back. Cedar would love me in this. You don’t have to wear a school uniform or anything at that place, do you?”
“No, but there are strict rules about what you can and can’t wear.”
“Won’t it be nice when we’re both somewhere where there are no rules?” she asked.
I sat on the settee. She walked around the living room, gazing at everything as if it were the first time she was here.
“There’s no such place,” I said.
“We can hope, can’t we?” She smiled and ran her hand over her piano and then tapped on a few keys. “Seems so long ago,” she said.
“It’s not the time that’s passed; it’s what happens in the time that’s passed. That’s why some days seem longer than others.”
“Who taught you that?”
“My therapist,” I said.
I watched her standing there and thinking. If there was ever a pregnant pause, this was it. She snapped around, and with a grin unlike any I had seen on her face or my own, she asked, “Do you think you’ll ever stop hating me?”
“Do you think you’ll ever truly be sorry?”
“I said I was.”
I saw no point in telling her that what she had said was more rationalization than apology. “I stopped hating you a while back,” I said. “The bigger question is, will you stop hating yourself?”
She laughed. “Don’t you remember what Mother taught us? If we hate each other, we hate ourselves. If you don’t hate me, I won’t hate myself.”
Irene appeared in the doorway. “Your mother says she’s ringing the dinner bell,” she announced.
“Oh, good. I’m absolutely starving!” Haylee cried. I rose and followed her to the dining room. “This table is absolutely a work of art, Mother,” she said when she entered ahead of me.
Mother stood by her chair, beaming. “Take your usual seats,” she said.
Haylee moved quickly to hers. We were sitting across from each other. Mother now sat where my father used to sit, and Irene sat in Mother’s usual place.
“Before we begin,” Mother said, still standing, “I’d like to give thanks. I am thankful that my daughters are safe now and that once again, they are sitting together in our dining room. I am thankful that we will all get a second chance at happiness, and I am thankful that I had such support from people like Irene.” She took her seat.
“I am thankful, too, Mother,” Haylee said. “I am thankful that I am here and we are enjoying your wonderful dinner.”
Mother nodded and looked at me.
“I am as well, Mother.”
“Well, then. Let’s pass everything around, and don’t forget, girls, leave room for pumpkin pie.”
We began eating. Haylee was quickly back to her old clever self, asking Irene questions and showing how interested she was to know about her. I wondered if Irene bought into how fascinated Haylee was in her life story, how she’d had to earn money for herself and her mother and how she’d worked to get her education.
“I swear,” Haylee said, “after seeing how spoiled some people are, it’s refreshing to hear someone describe how she achieved so much with so little.”
Mother was obviously delighted at how well Haylee spoke and how humble she sounded. Haylee then turned to me and asked questions about Littlefield, the facilities, and my teachers. I had to admit that Mother heard more about my school then and there than she had ever heard before. Despite her warnings, both Haylee and I ate more than we should, but everything was truly delicious. When I volunteered Haylee and myself to clean up, Mother refused.
“I’d rather the two of you go into the living room and prepare one of your piano duets for us. I’ve been telling Irene for months how wonderful you both play. Now, don’t make me look like a liar. Go on. Rehearse,” she ordered. “After that, we’ll have our dessert.”
“I’m a little rusty. How about you?” Haylee asked me.
“The last time we played here together was my last time, too.”
“Then we’d better do as Mother asks and rehearse,” she said.
If the food hadn’t been so wonderful, I might have heaved right there at the table, but I smiled instead, rose, and followed her to the living room.
When we sat at the pianos, Haylee looked at me and said, “Let’s make her happy, Kaylee. Who knows when we will have a chance to do it again?”
I should have paid more attention to that, but I was thinking about the music.
19
Despite what she had said, Haylee played the piano as well as I did. I began to suspect she had been rehearsing at the institution. We worked on two of Mother’s favorite holiday songs, and then Haylee surprised me after we had played them for Mother and Irene by beginning Gershwin’s Prelude No 1. It was, as I recalled, the last duet we had done together before she staged my abduction. She looked at me, challenging. I saw how pleased Mother was, and then I started to play, too.
“You rehearsed,” I accused as soon as we finished.
Haylee shrugged. “When something is so special to you, you can’t forget it,” she said.
For Mother, that was like spreading warm butter on toast. She clapped, and Irene joined her. “Aren’t they simply special?” Mother asked.
“They are,” Irene said. “I’ve never seen two like them.”
Haylee glowed so brightly with pride that my smile of appreciation paled. I felt like a candle next to a spotlight on the stage, which was what every room in this house had been for us. Even when there was no one but our parents here, we were performing. We thought we had to in order to keep Mother’s love. The moment we woke in the morning, the curtain was raised.
After our duets, we all returned to the dining room to enjoy our pumpkin pie. Haylee acted as if a dam of frustration had been broken. She was behaving now like someone who had been kept in solitary confinement for months and months. She talked a regular blue streak, describing the food they had and the institution facilities, the recreational activities she enjoyed, what she was reading, and, yes, she confessed that she had been practicing on the piano.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she declared.
“That it was,” I said.
“Kaylee was always a little better than I was, so I was confident she would be able to get ri
ght into it,” she explained to Irene.
Then we both looked at Mother to see if she would be as adamant as she had been in the past about not giving one of us more credit than the other. She just smiled.
Maybe it was over, I thought. Maybe I should relax and think only of my own future. We went back to the living room, where Irene, now more comfortable with the three of us, talked more about her own youth. Haylee was suddenly her best audience. I watched with amusement as she wrapped herself around Irene’s memories, appearing sincerely interested and amazed by some of it.
Mother then insisted we watch some of the videos of us when we were younger. Haylee volunteered to set things up so we could watch on our big television screen. To me, it was painful to see the four of us when we were still a happy family, a family with no inkling of what would become of us.
“They’re absolutely interchangeable at that age,” Irene said. She had seen these videos before, but now that she was sitting with both of us, glancing at us and then at the screen, she was even more impressed. “Their gestures, expressions, amazing.”
She told us about other twins she had known, something she had told Mother, I was sure, but made the point that there was indeed something unique about us. That set Mother off telling anecdotes about some of the things we had done naturally, things that had impressed her friends.
“They were so good at anticipating what the other wanted and what she would do. I think they still are,” she added, looking at us.
Never before had that comment saddened me as much. If that were true, I would have anticipated and avoided the abduction Haylee had so cleverly arranged by weaving a thick web around me and that horrible man. How did Mother process that when she thought of all this tonight?
“Well,” Irene said, after looking at me and perhaps seeing the sadness in my face, “I think everyone’s a bit tired. I know I am.”
“It’s going to take me forever to go to sleep anyway,” Haylee said. “It’s been exciting and wonderful, one of the happiest times of my life. Thank you, Mother. And thank you, Irene. Thank you for taking such good care of our mother.” She looked at me with that smug, self-satisfied expression she kept well hidden from anyone else.
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