Runaway Twin (15 page)

As soon as he said it, I realized I was exhausted. Besides riding my bike for hours, this had been an emotional few days, especially this afternoon. My thoughts were still whirling like the tail of the tornado, and I longed to lie down and replay everything that had happened, to try to sort it out.

Mrs. Anderson came in. “We're going to give Sunny the den for now,” she said.

“What about Starr's room? She has twin beds,” Mr. Anderson said. “No pun intended.”

“I think Sunny needs some privacy,” Mrs. Anderson said. What she probably meant was, Starr will throw a fit if we make her share her room, even with her twin sister.

“The den will be great,” I said.

“Do you have luggage?” Mr. Anderson asked.

“Just my backpack. I left my bike out in front.”

“Let's put it in the garage, where it's safe,” he said. I followed him to the garage and watched while he pushed a button that made one of the garage doors open. I got my bike and wheeled it in beside a new Prius.

“You're going to need more clothes,” Mrs. Anderson said as she led me to the den. “Tomorrow we'll go shopping. Starr loves to shop. Do you?”

“Yes,” I said, although the only time anyone had ever taken me shopping was when Rita bought me new clothes when I first went to live with her. We'd had a great time that day. She let me try on anything I wanted, and then I'd step out of the dressing room to show her how I looked and we'd decide if we liked the item or not.

It wasn't only the new clothes that made this a happy memory; it was the feeling I'd had that someone cared about me and wanted me to look good. I realized Rita had given me more than jeans and tops that day; she had given me love.

Her words came back to me:
You'll always have a home here.
I realized how foolish I'd been to assume that once I found Starr, I'd instantly have a permanent home. I'd had a simplistic dream for a complicated situation.

Mrs. Anderson opened a hide-a-bed that was already made up with sheets and a blanket. “For now, you can sleep here,” she said. “There's a bathroom across the hall. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I'm glad you're here, Sunny,” she said. “Starr will be glad, too, once she gets used to the idea. She's really a wonderful girl.”

“I should have called first, instead of just showing up.”

“It doesn't matter. You rest now, and we'll talk later.”

I went across to the bathroom and took a long shower and shampooed my hair. According to the information that had come in the box of dye, it would take twenty-eight shampoos before my hair returned to its natural color. However, I had not left the dye on the full amount of time, so it was already beginning to fade, and I wanted to hurry that process along. I knew the resemblance to Starr would be greater if our hair was the same color.

I lay on the bed, trying to put myself in Starr's place. How would I feel if a stranger appeared with no warning and claimed to be my twin sister? I'd probably feel apprehensive, too, if I had no memory of a sister, but I didn't think I'd be as negative as Starr was. I would be curious. Whether I liked the idea or not, I'd want to know who my sister was and what her life had been like since we were separated.

Dinner that night was strained. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson tried to ignite the conversation, but I felt ill at ease. Starr gave only one-syllable answers to questions and appeared not to listen when I talked.

“Starr is a poet,” Mr. Anderson told me. “She's been writing poetry for years. Do you write poetry, Sunny?”

“No,” I said. “I love to read it, though. I used to read only novels, but Rita likes poetry and she got me started on that.” I turned to Starr. “I'd like to read some of your poems.”

When Starr didn't respond, Mr. Anderson said, “You'll be impressed. Starr has a lot of talent.”

I took a bite of my baked potato.

“Tell us about Rita,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“She's single,” I said. “She works at home most of the time, editing a business journal. One day a week she teaches yoga classes.”

“How long have you been with her?”

“Five months.” It seemed longer than that. In some ways, I felt as if I'd known Rita for many years.

“So you don't have a long-term relationship,” Mr. Anderson said. “She probably wouldn't fight to keep you.”

I put down my fork and looked at him, surprised. Was he saying they wanted me to live with them permanently? Starr looked horrified, and I knew she was wondering the same thing.

“Rita lets me make my own decisions,” I said.

W
hile we ate brownies for dessert, Mrs. Anderson said, “What shall we do tomorrow? Do you girls want to pack a picnic and go up to see the wildflowers? They should be in full bloom at this time of year.”

“I'm going swimming with Abby tomorrow,” Starr said.

“Do you have a swimsuit with you, Sunny?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

“No.”

“We'll buy you one, first thing tomorrow. We can see the wildflowers another day.”

“Mother,” Starr said, “Abby invited me to go swimming at her club. I can't just bring along an extra person.”

“Of course you can. If you call Abby and tell her that your twin sister is here, I'm sure she'll be eager to meet Sunny.”

“No,” I said. “It's okay. Starr, you go ahead with your plans. I'll be fine. Really.”

“Then the two of us will go shopping,” Mrs. Anderson declared.

And that's what we did. While Starr was off swimming with her friend, Mrs. Anderson took me to a dozen stores. It was almost like shopping with Rita. Almost. The differences were that Mrs. Anderson never looked at the price tags, and she didn't make me feel special, the way Rita had. I got the feeling Mrs. Anderson wanted me to be well dressed so as not to reflect poorly on Starr.

I felt ashamed for having such thoughts when Mrs. Anderson was being so nice to me. I pushed them aside and promised myself I'd make every effort to be friendly to Starr, no matter how much of a brat she was.

By the end of the afternoon, I had two new pairs of jeans, a pair of shorts, three tops, a sweater, some socks and underwear, new sandals, and a pink duffel bag that was the right size to fit in the overhead luggage space on my flight home. She also took me to a bookstore and let me choose a couple of new novels.

“Thank you,” I told Mrs. Anderson. “I love everything you got for me.”

“I hope this is only the first of many shopping trips,” she replied. “Next time, Starr can come with us. Even though you and Starr are fraternal twins rather than identical twins, you have the same sweet personality.” I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

When we got home from shopping, there was a voicemail message from Starr saying she'd been invited to stay at Abby's for dinner and would be home around eight. Mrs. Anderson looked angry when she listened to the message, but she didn't call Starr and tell her she had to come home.

Mr. Anderson arrived home from work shortly after we returned from shopping. “I thought I'd take my girls out to dinner, to celebrate being together,” he said.

“Starr is eating at Abby's house,” Mrs. Anderson said.

His eyes narrowed briefly before he said, “Do you like Mexican food, Sunny?”

“It's my favorite.”

“Then that's what we'll do.”

We had a delicious dinner at a Mexican restaurant and then they showed me the town's public art. There was a huge loggers memorial sculpture that showed a pair of oxen pulling a downed tree while a logger urged them on. “Logging was an important industry here for many years,” Mr. Anderson explained.

They showed me two other sculptures. My favorite was a bronze colt that stood on a street corner in the downtown area. I had seen it when I went to the visitor's center, but I enjoyed seeing it again.

After the tour, we went home and had ice cream. We had just finished when Starr arrived. “There's still plenty of ice cream,” Mrs. Anderson said.

“No, thanks. I had dessert at Abby's house.”

“Sunny and I had a good shopping trip,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Would you like to see what we bought?”

“I'm really tired,” Starr said. “I'm going to bed early.”

Mr. Anderson opened his mouth as if he wanted to object but then said nothing. I got the feeling Starr's parents had decided not to push her to be nice to me but instead were hoping she'd come around by herself.

After Starr went upstairs, I excused myself and went into the den. I heard the TV go on, and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson talking together in the living room. I went quietly up the stairs and tapped on Starr's bedroom door.

“Who is it?”

“It's Sunny. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“About what?”

“Nothing special.”

“Oh, I suppose so. Come on in.”

I went in. Starr was sitting on the bed, propped up with pillows. I sat on a small upholstered chair.

“I know you're unhappy that I'm here,” I said, “and I'm sorry about that. I thought you would have the same memories that I have. I never dreamed that you wouldn't remember me.”

“You could at least have written first, or called. It's a shock to find out I have a twin sister and nobody bothered to tell me about her.”

“I know. I assumed you knew about me.”

“Well, I didn't.”

“You really don't remember me at all?”

“I vaguely remember playing with someone. I thought it was a friend.”

“I'm not going to stay all summer, if that's what you're worried about,” I said. “I'll be here only until Thursday. When I get back to Rita's, I plan to stay there.”

“Mom is trying to bribe you,” she said. “Buying all those clothes for you is supposed to make you want to stay longer.”

“I don't think that's true. Your mom was only being nice. She wanted me to have enough to wear during my visit.”

“Think what you like,” Starr said, “but I know her better than you do.”

“I just—I just want to say that I'd really like to get to know you better. I mean, how often do you get a chance to meet a twin sister? It'll probably be years before we see each other again.”

“If ever.”

“If ever,” I agreed. “So let's be friends for these few days.”

Starr didn't respond.

“Are you afraid of me?” I asked.

“Afraid? Why would I be afraid?”

“I don't know. You act as if you fear something bad will happen if you get to know me.”

“You're crazy. I'm just not thrilled to have my life disrupted by someone I don't know who moves in and wants to instantly become best buddies.”

“Okay,” I said as I stood. “I get the message.”

I went back to the den and sat on the edge of the bed. Thursday seemed a long way off.

The old song ran through my mind, but this time I changed one word: “Twinkie, Twinkie, little Starr. How I wonder
who
you are.” For ten years, I had wondered where my sister was. Now that I had found her, I realized I didn't know
who
she was. I had searched for a girl who existed only in my mind.

I picked up one of my new books, hoping it would be the kind of story where I'd forget about my regular life and become totally engrossed in the lives of the characters.

I had just finished Chapter One when Starr screamed. The first scream was followed immediately by another, even more shrill. I dropped my book and rushed to the den door.