Page 41 of Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin

Goldie patted Lorraine on the arm. “Oh, dear. What a terrible thing to happen. And your nose, too.” Goldie was a very kind woman. She took care of everyone in town, whether through being a customer at the store, or just a friend or neighbor. Everyone knew Goldie, and she knew everyone within a fifty-mile radius.

Her son, Nate, Jane’s first husband, died several years before from some kind of heart attack or something, but she'd never lost the mothering gene. I found she tended to have lots of chicks to take care of, including myself.

With Lorraine's multiple wounds and sad story of spousal infidelity, with me, nonetheless, Goldie swooped in to protect the meek. And boy, did Lorraine look meek sitting there. Feathers, bruises, bandages and leg braces.

“The doc who took care of my foot says he knows you.”

Now Homer raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oh?” I commented, although it wasn't much of a surprise someone knew me since it was a small town.

“Dr. O or some such letter.”

I nodded. “Sure, Mike Ostranski.”

“Wanted me to tell you the paddle was working out. Make any sense to you?” Lorraine eyed me suspiciously.

Now Homer had both eyebrows raised. Did he really think I was into paddle play with a doctor at the hospital? And, responsible for corrupting Lorraine's husband? With the look on his face, he definitely thought so.

Jack was smirking. I could see it from where I stood behind the counter. His lip quirked up, and his chest was moving as if he was trying to squelch a laugh. He knew Mike would be making fun of himself—and the sex party—and Jack wasn't going to let me off easily. Or at all.

“Customer,” I told Homer, trying to explain who Dr. O was.

Homer nodded as he handed me the money. “Right, sure.”

He obviously didn't believe me.

I handed him the movie in a bag. “Have a good one,” I replied as he made his way out of the store. If I ever saw him around town, I had no doubt Homer would switch to the other side of the street to avoid me. Oh, brother.

Homer held open the door for Violet, who came in like a whirling dervish, stomping snow from her feet, cold breeze swirling behind her. Homer stood there frozen in place, staring at Violet. The last expression on his face as the door closed behind him was like he'd seen a ghost, obviously surprised there were actually two of me.

I wanted to stick my tongue out at him and say 'See?', but I held back.

Violet wore a heavy purple jacket, matching hat and gloves, jeans and snow boots. And she lookedexactlylike me.

“Holy shit,” Lorraine said. She stood up and hobbled over to Violet. Looked her over carefully, her head swiveling between my sister and me. Over and over. To keep the woman's head from unscrewing entirely, I went and stood next to Violet.

“You really are a twin,” Lorraine replied, in awe.

Violet, used to the ogling at being identical, ignored Lorraine. “Hi, Miss Goldie,” Violet said, and then seeing Jack, smiled brightly. “Jack Reid. Been a long time.” She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and gave him moon eyes.

Jack didn't look too keen on seeing my sister and it showed. She'd been the one to mess things up for him early on, and hislife had changed based on her small transgression. Violet quickly picked up on the cold shoulder and dropped the flirting act.

“Violet,” he murmured politely, but definitely without any feeling.

Violet looked at me, her face completely confused. “Where's the package you were telling me about?”

“You,” Lorraine said, jabbing Violet in the shoulder, “You're the one sleeping with my husband.”

Violet's jaw dropped open.

Goldie gasped. This was the first time she'd heard the official accusation. Up to this point, all she knew was that someone looking like me went skiing with her husband, Ronald. Goldie had known Violet and I our whole lives and shenanigans with a married man was the irresponsible, reckless, and moral-free behavior she didn't tolerate. From anyone.

“Violet,” Goldie said, her voice laced with disappointment and anger. She shook her head from side to side in disbelief.

“What?” Violet planted her hands on her hips. “I never slept with anyone's husband! I don't even know who your husband is.” Violet practically yelled at Lorraine. Her fuse was short and she definitely didn't like to be cornered as she was now.

“Ronald,” Lorraine told her. “Name ring a bell?”