Page 13 of My Twin Sister

“They were great grandparents. Mom only got to see Carter as a baby. That still makes me sad. But I’m glad she got to meet him.”

“I wish I could have seen it.”

We pause in the hall on top of the stairs. She wants to say something but doesn’t. Instead, she opens a door and sorts through folded sheets and blankets. While she’s busy, I take a step back and scan the top floor. Her bedroom is right behind us, the door wide open.

“Do you use top sheets? I have them somewhere,” Geny says, her back still to me.

“I usually do, but I don’t need one.”

I peer into the room. There’s a king-sized bed centered against the far wall. But only one side has pillows. The other side is empty and still made up. There’s nothing on the nightstand on that side either.

“There they are. Here, grab these from me.”

I spin back to Geny and take a bundle of sheets and blankets from her. She grabs two pillows and heads back down the stairs. I look over my shoulder as I follow her. There are plenty of reasons one side of their bed looks empty. Maybe one of them is really neat and the pillows are in the wash. Maybe one of them took a midday nap and didn’t make up their side of the bed.

Or maybe their marriage isn’t as loving as it looks and they’re no longer sharing a bed at night.

Twelve: Grace

I follow Geny down the basement steps and try not to fall down the steep stairs.

“Don’t mind the boxes over there,” she says.

There’s a wall of storage at the far end of the room. Boxes are stacked up high, along with papers and a few other things that didn’t make it into a container. There’s a little bedroom set up, and despite it being in the basement, it looks cozy.

There’s a big area rug beneath the bed and nightstand, a lamp, and a plant I assume is fake. There’s even art on the wall behind the bed.

“Mom stayed here for a while when I first had Jack.”

I smile. Of course she did. “I bet she loved that even more than you did.”

“She was amazing,” she whispers. “She always knew what to do. Always kept her cool when I felt like I might scream if he cried for one more second.”

My face warms at what feels like an admission. Geny doesn’t like to admit when she’s struggling, though she never did hide it well.

“She had two newborns at once,” I say. “She was a veteran at crying babies.”

Geny nods, then stands up straight and wipes her eye.

“Anyway. Bring me the sheets, and I’ll help you get the bed made up.”

We work together to make the full-sized bed. There’s so much to say, but the words always feel stuck in my throat. I need to say as little as possible for the foreseeable future.

“Mom?” calls a voice from the top of the stairs. Jack, I think.

“Yeah?” she yells back.

“Grandpa is here. He wants to see Aunt Grace.”

A swarm of bees attack my insides. Here we go.

Geny looks up at me. I smile to calm her nerves, which she wears plainly on her face.

“It’s fine,” I say.

We walk upstairs together, me in front. Frank Gibbs is standing by the front door, no longer in his Sunday best, but dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. Official business then.

“Sheriff Gibbs,” I say as I approach.