The Good Twin(12)

Lauren threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “I’m so happy to see you. I sent you a Christmas card after Sasha died, but it was returned, marked Moved. I didn’t know how to get in touch with you, you know, to see how you were holding up.”

“I moved to New York City. Queens, actually,” I said as Lauren led me into the living room. “I had to get away from Scranton.”

“Are you studying art there?”

“I am. I’m really learning a lot.”

“Good. Now, tell me—why are you here?”

On the drive over, I had thought of little else than how I would raise the subject. Ease into it, I’d told myself. Just ask about my mother’s life, about her family, general questions. Get Lauren comfortable talking. All that advice evaporated in an instant. Instead, I blurted out, “Do I have a twin sister?”

Lauren’s posture stiffened, and her voice, now shaky, said, “Why are you asking that?”

“I saw someone who looks just like me.”

Now, Lauren’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, honey, I guess we all have someone who resembles us.”

A feeling of anger arose, and I tried to push it away. I felt certain Lauren knew something and was holding back. “Not resemble. Exactly like me. With the same date of birth.” I stared hard at my mother’s friend.

Lauren stood up. “Let’s go in the kitchen. I need a cup of coffee. How about you?”

Reluctantly, I followed her into a kitchen that looked like it had recently been updated. Although the apartment building was old, the kitchen shined with stainless-steel appliances and gleaming granite countertops. A round table with four chairs was tucked in the corner. I took a seat while Lauren went to the Keurig sitting next to the refrigerator and put a cup in place.

“Decaf or regular?”

I was already too wired. “Decaf.”

“Milk and sugar?”

I shook my head. “Just black.”

When both cups were filled, she brought them over to the kitchen table, then sat down. “Your mother loved you very much.”

That was news to me. Growing up, my mother could be affectionate to me, or as cold as ice, depending on her mood. Mostly, though, she’d seemed indifferent toward me. “Was she really my mother? Or was I adopted?”

“She gave birth to you.” Lauren sighed deeply, then dropped her head into her hands. After a minute, she looked up. “When she got sick, when it was clear she wouldn’t recover, I begged her to tell you her story. She was terrified that you would hate her.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t certain I wanted the answers I’d come searching for. Just get up and leave. Tell Lauren to keep Mom’s secret. But I knew it was too late for that. From the moment I’d spied Charlotte Gordon through the window of the art gallery, I knew that my life was going to change.





CHAPTER 9

“Your mom met your father when she was sixteen,” Lauren began.

My arms were wrapped tightly around my body, a protective armor. Despite the sips of coffee I’d taken, despite the warmth in the kitchen, I shivered.

“He was eighteen, finished with high school, and working in his father’s construction business.” Lauren stopped and smiled. “My, he was handsome. Just about the most handsome boy either of us had ever seen. Wavy blond hair and the deepest blue eyes.”

“Like mine?”

“Exactly like yours.”

“Mom told me he was killed in the Gulf War. Is that true?”

Lauren nodded. “Sasha didn’t know she was pregnant when he entered the army. If your father had known, maybe he wouldn’t have enlisted. Then, your grandmother probably wouldn’t have kicked her out.”

My eyes widened. I’d known that my mother had cut ties with her own mother, but I didn’t know she’d been kicked out of her home, pregnant and alone. “How could her mother do that?”

“Your grandmother’s name was Millie. Your grandfather, Kyle, walked out on her when Sasha wasn’t even a year old. Left her with nothing. She’d struggled raising Sasha, all on her own. She just wasn’t willing to start all over again, raising her granddaughter.”

“But still—”

“Millie was resigned to the pregnancy while your dad was off fighting in Kuwait. Sasha had written to him, and he wrote back that he wanted to get married.”

“But then he was killed?”

“That’s right. Millie insisted that Sasha put you up for adoption. But Sasha wouldn’t think of it. So Millie threw her out.”

“She’s horrible! I’m glad I never knew her.”

“Don’t judge so quickly. Life decisions aren’t always black and white.”

I looked at Lauren incredulously. “She abandoned my mother when she needed her the most. There can’t be any excuse—”

A wailing sound coming from down the hallway stopped me. “What’s that?”

Lauren smiled. “Be back in a minute.”

Five minutes later, she returned with a sleepy toddler in her arms, his head resting against her chest.

“Meet Tyler.”

My mouth dropped open. Lauren was the same age as my mother would have been—forty-four. “Is he yours?”

Lauren laughed. “You think I’m too old?”