The Good Twin(30)

Jake led me into the kitchen first, where three women were busy finishing up the food preparations. I placed my contribution on the counter.

“Mom, this is Mallory,” Jake said to the oldest of the women, who wore a frilly apron over her ample stomach.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Bowman.”

“Please, call me Jenna. And I’m happy you could come.”

Jake introduced me to his sisters, then brought me into the living room, where his father and two brothers-in-law, along with his grandparents, were seated around the stone fireplace. Four children sat huddled in a corner with a stack of LEGO bricks. Once again, Jake made introductions. His father, like his mother, insisted I use his first name, Joel, and his grandmother said, “Call us Gammy and Pop Pop. That’s what everyone does.”

Jake led me to the corner where a Christmas tree stood, tastefully decorated. Scattered around it were open boxes and torn wrapping paper, except for one box, still wrapped. Jake handed it to me. “This is from my mom.” I opened it and found a hand-knitted wool scarf in colors of red and green and fought back tears. Her thoughtfulness overwhelmed me.

Jake settled in a chair next to his father, and I went back to the kitchen to thank his mother. “It’s beautiful, and just what I need now that winter’s arrived in full force.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Can I do anything here to help?”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest,” Jenna said.

I remained there, anyway. They were easy to chat with, taking turns filling me in on places I should visit while I was living in the area. When it came time for everyone to take seats around the table, I already felt like I’d known them for years.

“Jake tells me you’re writing a novel,” Joel said.

“Trying to.”

“What’s it about?”

A good liar is always prepared. “It’s a murder mystery. About a man who wants to kill his business partner. He’s in debt to him for two million dollars and sees that as his only way out.”

“I like mysteries,” Joel said. “How does he get caught?”

I smiled. “Now, if I tell you, you won’t buy the book. Besides, maybe he doesn’t get caught.”

“Ah, now I’m intrigued. In every mystery I’ve read, the bad guy is always punished in the end. Of course, that’s not real life. I suppose there are plenty of people who’ve gotten away with murder.”

I hoped that was true.



I fell in love with Jake’s family. His father made me laugh throughout the meal, and his mother treated me like a daughter. His sisters, Julia and Sherry, both teachers, entranced me with stories of their students. And their children: four-year-old Jillian, five-year-old twins, Hailey and Zach, and the oldest, seven-year-old Jessica, already assuming the role of boss, made me think once again that I’d like to be a mother. I watched the twins’ obvious affection for each other and felt a stab of wistfulness at what I had missed with my own twin.

Jake’s grandmother kept asking me questions about my life, not as a grilling but because she genuinely seemed interested. Everyone gushed over the dishes I’d brought, and after dinner, we broke into two teams and played charades. I was hopeless at it but laughed and laughed. When the game was over, Jake’s brothers-in-law, Steven and Mark, brought out their guitars, and we all sang Christmas songs.

Christmas with my own mother always had been a solitary experience. Sometimes she had enough money for a tree and gifts to put under it; other times all I’d gotten was a trinket from the drugstore. Rarely had dinner been anything different from every other night of the year. The home of Jake’s parents was filled with warmth, not just from the fireplace but from every person present.

When Jake pulled into my driveway, I wasn’t ready to let go of the magic of the evening. “Want to come in for a bit?”

He turned off the ignition and followed me into the house. Without even asking, he got a fire started in the fireplace.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“Nope.” He patted the seat on the sofa next to him, and I sat down. “I’m glad you came tonight. I’m glad you met my family.”

I smiled. “They were lovely. Every one of them.”

Jake scraped his hand through his hair, then cleared his throat. “I was wondering if next week, instead of lunch, maybe we could go to dinner.”

Here it was—the pitch to move our relationship forward. I was surprised it had taken him this long. Every part of me wanted to say, “Yes,” to lean over and kiss his full lips, to take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. I knew that I couldn’t. “I like you. I really do. But I don’t want to get entangled with anyone while I’m working on my novel. And when it’s finished . . . I’ll be moving on from here.”

“New York City’s not so far away.”

I put my hand on his. “Can we just put it on hold for the time being? Stick to lunches?”

He nodded, but I knew he was disappointed. So was I. Of all the men I’d met since leaving Scranton, he was the one I could see making a life with. I could picture myself as part of his family. But I was leaving this life behind and, in a few months, maybe less, inhabiting someone else’s.

Jake stayed for another hour and then got up to leave. When he was gone, I realized that it wasn’t money that I’d missed growing up. It was family.