65
“Your guest is here,” Charlotte says through the intercom system. “Leon escorted him to the living room.”
It’s surreal to think Reeve’s twin is only one floor below us.
We don’t know a thing about him other than he seems as keen as Reeve to meet up and he readily agreed to come here rather than meeting in public. I’d surmise it’s because he knows who Reeve is except names haven’t been exchanged yet, per his request.
“Thanks, Charlotte. Does Angela still have eyes on Easton?” I inquire. Angela is our part-time nanny, and she usually only minds E when I have to work. However, we asked her to come over today so we could talk with Reeve’s brother without interruption.
“They are right here beside me, baking cookies for the party,” Charlotte confirms as I massage the corded muscle along Reeve’s shoulder blades. My husband is excited but cautious and more than a little tense.
“Hi, Mommy!” Easton’s cute little voice trickles into the room.
“Hey, E. Bake some extra cookies for me and your little sister.” Easton is super excited to meet his new sibling. He and Reeve sing to my bump every night before his bedtime, and it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Be a good boy for Angela, and I’ll take you out to the playground after,” Reeve promises. Easton has his own personal playground, obstacle course, and treehouse in our backyard, just like we had as kids. It’s easier organizing playdates at the house than going out in public and dealing with nosy assholes and vile paparazzi.
“Yay, Daddy!”
“See you in a while, buddy.”
“Okay! Love you, Mommy! Love you, Daddy!”
“We love you too,” we say in unison, smiling as they disconnect.
Reeve tucks his blue button-up shirt into his black pants. “If our daughter turns out anything like her big brother, we’ll be extremely blessed.”
“That we will.” Easton is an amazing kid, and he’s made parenting him much easier than I expected. “Right, ready?” I peer up at Reeve, smiling softly.
“I feel sick,” he admits, running his hands repeatedly through his hair. “What if he doesn’t like me or he doesn’t want to form a relationship with me?”
I understand his nervousness. In the two weeks since we discovered the truth, Reeve has been knocked off-kilter. It’s one thing entirely to discover the circumstances of your mother’s death weren’t exactly as you’d been told—like finding out your lying piece-of-shit father is an even bigger lying piece-of-shit father—and quite another to discover you have a brother.A twin. A part of you out there in the world you never knew existed. Reeve has so many questions and expectations, and I hope he finds some answers today.
Truth is, I’m almost as anxious as Reeve. I know he’s hoping this meeting will go well and he’ll get an opportunity to know his brother, to develop the relationship they should’ve always had. They say twins share a deep connection, and I wonder what it does to them when they are separated, as happened in this case. Will they form an instant bond the second they meet? Or will it no longer exist because it hasn’t been nurtured since birth?
Having a brother in his life would be the icing on the cake for my husband, and I really hope they hit it off. We don’t know the circumstances of his adoption. It’s possible he has other siblings, and this might not be as big of a deal to him. But Reeve is his only flesh and blood, his only living connection to their parents. Surely that counts?
Right now, my husband needs reassurance, and I intend to give it to him. I cup his face, kissing him briefly. “He’s yourtwin. It’s probably been as big of a shock for him as it’s been for you, but how could he not love you? You’re an amazing person, Reeve. A wonderful husband, son-in-law, and father, and I know you’ll be an excellent brother too. If he doesn’t want to get to know you, that’s all on him.” I rest my hands on his toned hips. “It’s a good sign he’s here. That must mean he’s open to it.” I sincerely hope so because I’m not sure what it’ll do to Reeve if his twin doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. “Just don’t expect miracles. It might take both of you some time to come to terms with everything, but I’m sure it’ll work out. You’re not just brothers. You’retwins. That’s an extra special connection.”
“True.” His lips come down on mine, and he kisses me softly and slowly until I melt in his arms. “I know I’ve been a basket case these past few months. Thank you for putting up with me.”
I slide my hands up over his chest. “Reeve. I love you. I love you so much.” I peck his lips, winding my arms around his neck. “Supporting you is never a chore. I’ve just been worried, but I think you’re about to turn a corner.” I offer him my most reassuring smile. “We should go. We don’t want to leave the poor man waiting too long.”
I am fascinated to see if Reeve’s twin looks like him or if they share any of the same character traits. I’ve been reading up on identical twins since Carson broke the news, and he was correct. They aren’t always identical. While they are born with the same features, they can develop in different ways as they grow. They can have different heights, different builds, different facial traits, and different facial expressions. They can be completely different in personality.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, as I grab his hand. “It’s going to be fine. Breathe, and remember I’m here with you. This is an exciting moment,” I add, wanting to reinforce the most important part of today. “You have a brother.”
Anxiety is replaced with cautious elation on my husband’s face. “It’s surreal.”
“It’s wonderful.”
Please, please, let this go well for him. I offer up silent prayers the entire way down to the living room.
My heart is racing when Reeve stops outside the closed doors, drawing another deep breath and squeezing my hand tight. I’m tingling with nervous adrenaline so I can only imagine how my husband is feeling.
Reeve opens the door, and we step into our plush living room. We usually only entertain guests in here, preferring our informal living room when it’s just us.
A tall man stands in front of the window with his back to us and his arms folded in front of his chest. He’s wearing a black T-shirt over fitted black jeans and boots. My heart does a funny little jump, and all the tiny hairs stand at attention on the back of my neck. I examine him more carefully, and I can’t shake the sense of unease crawling over my skin. His brother has a couple of inches in height on Reeve, and he’s broader in the shoulders. His hair is cut similarly to Reeve’s. It appears to be the same shade of brown minus the natural blond highlights Reeve has acquired thanks to the Californian sun.