There’s no getting around it. I’m well and truly committed to this event. I don’t break promises, and I do want to show my support. Our mother died in childbirth and while we never developed that twin bond so many people marvel over, Fallon developed somewhat of a mothering role. She took good care of me growing up because, despite being only two minutes older, she seemed infinitely wiser. And, because our dad could be unreliable at times, it was often Fallon who made sure there was dinner on the table and milk in the fridge.
So yes, I will suck it up and go for her.
Reaching across the table, I grab her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m a bitch and hard to pin down, but yes… I will absolutely go tonight.”
Her face softens, a smile breaking wide in relief. “Thank you.”
Pulling my hand away, I motion to my body. “I can wear this, right? Because I’ll have to come straight from work.”
Fallon sniffs, grimacing at my outfit. “Under no uncertain terms can you wear that.”
“You know I don’t have anything appropriate.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re the same size,” she replies easily. “Be at my condominium at five, and I’ll put you in one of my gowns.”
“I have to wear a gown?” I ask in horror.
“And heels,” she adds maliciously.
Groaning dramatically, I drop my forehead to the table. I pray for strength before looking back up at her. “Why do I have to be there so early? The show doesn’t start until eight.”
“Because I have to be at the gallery well before then, and it’s going to take a bit of time to do your hair and makeup. I can’t have my sister looking like a street rat.”
“Hair and makeup,” I exclaim, making an exaggerated faux moan of discomfort for effect. “Fallon… you’re killing me here.”
At that, she laughs, and it’s a beautiful thing. Patrons to our right actually turn to look at her, and I take a moment to enjoy this lighthearted moment with my sister. We don’t have many these days, only for the fact we both lead very busy and very different lives.
Having my promise in person while looking her dead in the eye, Fallon’s work here is done. She rises from the table, and I do the same. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, she steps around and pulls me into a hug. I’m shocked because Fallon’s not the hugging type, so I’m stiff and straight-armed for a moment. It feels right and wrong at the same time when you’re not used to it.
I’ve often wondered if the fact we’re fraternal and not identical is why we never twin bonded. Or maybe it’s because of our father, the man I loved more than anything and who Fallon could barely stand at times. I don’t think she’s ever forgiven him for taking his life, and I’m fairly sure she resented our bond that seemed to survive even his passing.
Which means, at times, I think she resented me.
And maybe… I resented her for not loving our father the way I did, but she just couldn’t accept his shortcomings. He was too much of an embarrassment to her.
Yes, our family was dysfunctional, and then it was split apart when our father shot himself. You would think in times like that, Fallon and I would cling to each other, but instead, it caused us to drift a little farther apart. I was lost without my papa, and she couldn’t understand the level of my grief. Add to that the stress of living with an unknown relative until we turned of age, by the time we became adults, Fallon and I led vastly different lives.
She went on to college, got a Bachelor of Fine Arts, and opened an incredibly beautiful and well-frequented art gallery. Fallon’s engaged to a wealthy attorney, and she lives in a luxury condominium. She is the epitome of success.
By contrast, I dropped out of college in my sophomore year, having no real ambition to do anything. I felt lost and adrift, and while Fallon encouraged me to stay the course, I just didn’t feel college was the right path. Instead, I took my portion of the inheritance from my father that was supposed to be for college and used it to buy Fallon out of her one-half ownership interest in the family home. She told me I was crazy, and yet I knew in my heart it was the right decision. Still, she didn’t talk to me for weeks after that.
As a college dropout, I drifted from job to job, never staying anywhere for more than six months. I’ve worked jobs as varied as a delivery driver to selling makeup—which is where I met Rainey—to being a check-in clerk at a gym.
Then six years ago, I walked into One Bean because I thought the marquis lights above the door looked cool, and I was hoping for a decent cup of coffee. I struck up a conversation with the owner, Rich Cardello, thoroughly enjoying his wit and sarcastic humor. I came back again and again until he finally offered me a job.