Page 88 of Dreamboat

There it is. The open door I need to walk through, so I do.

I stare up and into her eyes. “Twins run in mine, too.”

She breaks free of my grasp as her hand jumps to cover her mouth. “What?”

I know what she fears. She’s still adjusting to the idea of giving birth to one child. The remote possibility that we’ll be parents to two newborns in a few months is unfathomable to her.

I’ve thought about it over and over again since I found out she’s pregnant.

I haul myself back up to my feet and adjust the waistband of my sweatpants. “There are twins in my family, Delia.”

“Are one of your parents a twin?” she questions, her gaze searching my face for the answer. “Or do you have twin cousins? Are the twins identical or fraternal?”

I reach for both of her hands. “Delia.”

She takes my hands in hers and squeezes tightly. “What is it? Did something happen to one of them?”

“I’m one of them,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I’m a twin.”

Laughing lightly, she shakes her head. “What? You’re not a twin.”

“I’m a twin,” I repeat, the words sounding almost foreign to me. It’s been so long since I’ve said them out loud. “I have a twin brother.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “Since when?”

A smile ghosts my lips. “Since we were born twelve minutes apart, thirty six years ago.”

“He looks just like you,” she says, not asks. “He does, doesn’t he?”

There are differences now. We’re still the same height and judging by how he carries himself in a suit, we’re near the same weight.

“He has a beard,” I whisper. “His hair is slightly longer than mine.”

She nods slowly. Tears fall down her cheeks. “Victor.”

Stunned, I step back, my hands darting to the center of my bare chest.

“I don’t…I don’t…I’ve never met him, or seen him for that matter,” she stammers through all of that. “I think my neighbor met him, though.”

Confused as hell, I brace a hand on the wall to keep myself upright. “I’m not following.”

She moves closer to wrap her arms around my waist. As she stares into my eyes, she explains, “I think my neighbor, Mr. Winters, met Victor in Indianapolis years ago.”

“Vic lived there for a few years,” I blurt out. “He was married back then.”

“He waited tables.” She goes on, “Mr. Winters met him then. The morning you left my apartment, Mr. Winters saw you in the lobby of our building. He described you to a T, but then he said the man he saw was named Victor. I didn’t put the pieces together then.”

“Until now, you didn’t realize one of the pieces existed.”

She nods. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned him? Why hasn’t Matt ever told me that you’re a twin?”

The next words out of my mouth are laced with shame but they’re my truth. “I haven’t spoken to my brother in years, Delia. It’s been years.”

Her unending compassion is shining bright this morning because after I confessed that I haven’t spoken to Victor in years, Delia took my hand and brought me back into the kitchen.

She finished making the tea and prepared a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and a bowl of fresh berries.

I didn’t say a word as I watched her move around my kitchen as if she belonged there. She does. I want her here or I want to be in her home on Park Avenue every day when I wake up.

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