Prologue:
A baby’s wail met me in the doorway as I let myself into the house. My eyes went straight to the TV that had been left on when my mother went outside to read one of her many Sandra Brown romance novels in the wicker chaise lounge on the front porch.
I watched the last few seconds of my birth as I did every time I came home from school. Well, at least it had been that way for the past month. Actually, it may have been longer than that.
For unknown reasons, Mom would watch the tape for hours everyday. She would sit there with a box of tissues and tears streaming down her face. I would lie in my room and listen to sob with a pillow over my head asking myself why. Many times, I was tempted to ask why buy was afraid of the answer she would give. I just hoped she wasn’t pregnant, and this was her way of telling me.
Perhaps she was upset that she couldn’t have more or maybe it was because of her baby, me, was leaving for college in a couple of months. I wasn’t sure, neither was I sure if I wanted to know.
Today, though, she wasn’t watching, but I figured was listening to it since the window was open. That had to have of been it because she hadn’t turned a page since I parked in the driveway. I shook my head to clear all thoughts of her possibly being pregnant. The last thing I needed was a sibling, I thought to myself. That would be a disaster in the making.
The blue screen, and indication that the video had ended, came on as I set my books next to the pink tissue box.
Knowing if the VCR wasn’t turned off soon, it would shut itself off causing the TV to make a blaring sound, the search for the remote began. Since it wasn’t on the normal spot, which was the middle cushion of the couch, I got down on my hands and knees. Perhaps the remote had fallen in the floor and kicked under the couch when Mom left her TV watching spot, I thought.
I had just reached under the couch when out of the corner of my eye I happened to notice there was a picture on the screen. I sat up to get a better look at the screen.
“What the…?” I mumbled under my breath. “Who is…?”
A man I’d never seen before was on the screen. For years, I thought the video ended there since my mother had always turned it off when the blue screen popped up. I had been set up. I was supposed to see this. But what was the purpose?
The very attractive man was holding a pink bundle that had to of been me, and smiling as he said, “Lizzie, she’s perfect.”
A scream was heard, and the camera was pointed back at my mom. She was holding her, still, round stomach.
You have got to be kidding me!
She was still pregnant, and I knew what was about to happen. I absolutely could not believe she was about to have another baby. That baby was my…
…I have a twin?
I watched in disbelief as the baby was born, looking exactly as I did. I then wondered if perhaps I’d been watching the other baby’s birth all these years instead of my own. That worried me. What worried me even more was the fact that I may not be who I’ve always thought I was.
“Look, Honey, we have twins,” the man said as he held the two babies against his chest. Then he said to the camera, “Hey, everyone, meet Heather and Carrie Scott.”
Reality hit me like a slap in the face. My name is Heather Ryan, I’d never met my father John Scott, only heard about, and now I had a twin named Carrie Scott. This was all too much. I wanted to rewind the tape and act like none of this had just happened. But more than that, I wanted to lie down with an ice pack on my forehead.
“Mom,” I heard myself say. “Where is Carrie Scott?”
“She’s in New Mexico with your father,” she answered with tears in her eyes; she was holding the remote.
Chapter one: four years later…
“Carrie?”
Dressed in the shortest miniskirt I’d ever seen, a bikini top that practically covered nothing, and barefoot, stood the sister I had never seen before. It was my twin, Carrie Scott.
I took in her image.
She was exactly identical to me with semi-straight, blond hair, bright blue eyes that always received comments, though hers were slightly dilated, and she even had a nose ring. It was like looking into a mirror, and that is if I were dressed like a slut. There were silver hoops in her ears and a skull belly button ring visible. Only difference between us was that mine was plain.
I couldn’t believe she was actually standing at my front door with a smile on her face, and was tempted to yell at her.
Wait a second. What is she doing here?
“Hi, Heather,” she greeted me with a phony white smile. “Can I come in?”
“Sure, I guess,” I told her, not really sure what else to say but that.
I moved aside so she could pass by me, and shut the door behind her, not quite sure if I wanted to know what she had shown up at my front door so randomly. After all, Carrie had vowed never to come in contact with me even if I were the last person on Earth.
She had said in her letter back to me three years before, she didn’t want a sister and hadn’t contacted me since. I hadn’t contacted her either out of anger. Her exact words were, “I don’t want a sister, and I will never come in contact with you if you were the last person on Earth. I have a great life without you so don’t even think about trying to put yourself in it.”
I didn’t write back or even really think about her all that much. I’d told a few people here and there about her, who were close to me. I didn’t go into detail but simply said I had a twin I didn’t ever see; didn’t want to see. People were interested, but who wouldn’t be? No matter how much thy begged me, I wouldn’t answer their questions of why. I wasn’t being mean, no it was the time…okay, more than half the time, I didn’t know the answers to myself.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her as I placed my hands on my hips. “”I remember a certain letter saying you didn’t want a sister.”
“I know what I said, but I’ve changed my mind,” she replied with a facial expression I knew well. “So here I am.”
Carrie was making my lie face.
I know what you’re thinking: There’s no such thing as I lie face. Well, have you ever lied to yourself in the mirror?
“Carrie, you’re such a bad liar. Now, what’s the real reason?”
“Surprised and breathless, she said in haste, “Okay, you caught me. I left my husband and needed somewhere to hide for a while. I figured here would be the best place.”
“Why here?”
“I thought Florida with a sister he didn’t know about would be perfect. I told Dad I wanted to attend your wedding, which he thought was a good idea, though he doesn’t know it’s only my cover up.”
What? I was her cover up?
I fought the urge to kick her out of my apartment with a good riddance. She was only here to use me as a source of hiding. I figured it was typical since this was my twin I was dealing with. My twin who could care less if I were about to fall off a cliff any second. Instead, I demanded, “How did you now I was getting married?”
“Your mom wrote my dad.”
My mom and her dad? Obviously, she didn’t claim Mom, and I wasn’t to claim Dad.
“My wedding is two weeks away, and you’re here now?”
“I thought it would be nice to become friends.”
LIE.
“And you expect to have a place to stay here until then?”
“Of course,” she answered with pleading eyes that caused me to give her an uncertain glance. “Oh, come on, Heather. Perhaps once I get to know you, I’ll want a sister.”
“Who says I want one?” I asked, wondering if it would be wise to let her stay, knowing that she would only be using me to gain a place to stay while she hid from her husband. I was uncertain.
“Please, Heather.”
I just stood there looking at her, waiting to see what she would do next. I wanted to know if she would begin to beg me desperately, or if she would just give up and leave.
“Please, please, please, Heather,” she continued. “I’ll get on my knees if I have to. I’ll do anything just for a place to stay for a couple of weeks.”
It was hard to suppress the laugh that made it’s way to my throat at the thought of her on her knees. I could picture her begging like a dog would for food. I thought seriously of making her. The question remained of whether I should let her stay. But then I realized that not letting her stay would be something along the lines of being Carrie. I would rather die than actl ike her, I thought to myself, not believing what I was actually about to do.
“Alright, but…”
“Oh, my God, thank…”
I held up my hand to silence her as I continued as if I hadn’t been interrupted, “But if you make one wrong move, you’re out.”
“I promise I’ll be an angel.”
I highly doubted that.
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