Page 34 of Bringing Home the Bacon
My brothers rinse their dishes at warp speed, place them in the dishwasher, then head to the door.
“For the last time, where are you going?” I ask.
“We’re off to New York City to confront that Pork guy!” Ethan somehow says with a straight face.
“It’s Bacon,” I say. “And no, you are not! What are you gonna do? Wander around New York City and hope you bump into him?”
Sam, usually the stoic voice of reason, mumbles, “Seems like you’re the one who was bumping into him. Over and over again.”
“Gross, Sam! You need to never say that again. Also, you need to stop texting me every time I’m about to have sex!”
“What? I don’t do that!” he insists.
“Every time your twin sense tells you I’m in danger…” I try to lead him to the realization without me having to say it again.
Sam gasps. “I’m actually sensing you’re about to have sex?”
“Bingo,” I say.
Gran smiles. “Twinship is truly a remarkable thing.”
Ethan is getting impatient. “Gentlemen? Truck leaves in T-minus ten seconds!”
I throw my hands up. “Seriously, this is ridiculous. You don’t even know where Bacon lives!”
“We do actually.” Sam lifts his phone and shows me a screenshot of Bacon’s apartment building.
“How did you?—?”
Alex shakes his head at me and Sam. “You two should really turn off sharing locations. You’re twins, not boyfriend/girlfriend. Cut the cord, kids!”
Sam turns serious. “Cut the cord is a confusing idiom to use in this situation, Alex. Colleen and I are fraternal, so we didn’t even share an amniotic sac in utero. Or a placenta. Cutting the cord implies we were somehow connected by an umbilical cord at one point, and that’s simply not true.”
Alex sighs. “It’s just a saying!”
“Yeah,” Sam says. “An inaccurate one.”
“Sam,” I say. “Back on track, please. This is a violation of a man’s privacy.”
He shrugs. “I was worried about you that day you missed the bus home. I tracked your location and saved the screenshot, figuring in the event of your murder, I could submit it as evidence in a court of law.”
“Wow,” Ethan mutters.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Alex whispers. “They gotta cut the cord.”
“You know what, guys!?” I raise my voice. “I gotta cut the cord with all of you! Every single one of you! I mean, dammit! At what point are you going to respect me enough to let me deal with my own shit?”
“These children and their cussing.” Gran shakes her head in disappointment.
“She curses a lot more than she used to, doesn’t she?” Ethan says.
“Forgive me, Gran, but fuck yeah, I do, Ethan! You would too if you were me. You guys can’t keep doing this.”
“What? What do we do?” Alex asks.
“You sweep in whenever I have a problem and try to make it go away for me. You did it when those mean girls in middle school made fun of my training bra. You did it in high school when Bobby Hunter ditched me at prom. Ethan, you did it just last week at Tiddy’s when that drunk guy called me ‘babydoll.’ It’s like you all think I can’t handle my own life. Thankfully, you were wise enough to give your girlfriend space to handle her health, but you can’t seem to give me the same respect.”
Ethan starts, “Collie, we respect you! And we know you can handle yourself, but?—”
