Chapter 4: The Angel You Can Trust
1129 Words
Simone and I enter the kitchen, ushered in by the smell of something. . . not familiar.
Two boys are huddled over the gas stove, their backs turned to us. Their starched white shirts and blue pants are ironed to perfection. They're whispering in low tones, so caught up in what they're doing that they don't notice my entry.
I clear my throat loudly, and they slowly turn, sheepish smiles on their faces. Their name tags are missing, because of course, they are. These boys will lose anything if it's not printed or stapled to their bodies.
I make a move to see what has their attention so thoroughly on the stove, and the one closest to me quickly moves to obstruct my way. "Aunt AJ! I wasn't aware you'd be back so soon!"
I eye him and snort. "You never call me Aunt. What have you two destroyed this time?"
They look at each other, doing their telepathy thing, and I roll my eyes, turning to our visitor. "Simone, meet DeAndre and DeBraun. We're cousins, but they call me Aunt to butter me up whenever they're in trouble. They're in town for a few months till their parents come back from a world tour. They'll be living in the big house with you. But while you'll have the entire downstairs to yourself, they'll be upstairs. You won't have to see, smell, touch, or talk to them if you don't want to. They're also earning their keep by working for me as waiters, counter-watchers and assistant bakers. Say hello, boys."
Pot forgotten, they grin at her, eerily identical, down to the crook of their lips, and say at the same time, "Good afternoon."
"Twins," Simone whispers in awe as if she has never seen their specie before. Then a thought seems to hit her. "Oh my God, I may be carrying twins."
I shrug. "It's a family thing. And what's more, they'll be identical, too." Her skin turns an alarming shade of red and she seems to need some time to process that. I face the twins. "Well?"
DeAndre starts, "Well, you remember you said we're 'old enough to take responsibility and use our initiative'?"
I mentally sigh. I should have known that line would come back to bite me in the ass. A massive headache looms on the horizon, but I fight the urge to rub my temple. Then, they'll know they've worn me out and they'll think they won.
"DeAndre." My voice is as calm as I can manage, "What have you done?"
"To be precise, it's what DeBraun and I did—" his twin coughs, and he amends, "well, mostly what I did, but—"
I rub the knife I'm still holding in the most threatening way possible, and watch their eyes widen with relish. They never gave up their fear of my blade collection since I demonstrated its full effect when they were five. It ended with DeBraun hanging off the wall and screaming his head off, and his twin whimpering on the floor, "I'm going to die. Oh God, I'm going to die."
DeBraun speaks up hastily, "We just wanted to try a new recipe."
I nod invitingly. "That's a good start."
They eye me cautiously, eyes probing. After a moment, DeBraun continues, "We asked our Mom to send us a recipe from Barbados, and she sent. . . this." The fact that he refuses to name it gives me goosebumps. "We just wanted to help."
I nod again. "But it didn't end up so good. It happens to the best of us."
They nod and relax for a bit. DeAndre smiles. "Wow, Ash. You're taking it so well."
I laugh. "I am, aren't I? I mean, since you didn't touch the produce I left in the store, all is right with the world, yes?"
His smile freezes. "We used your flour, butter, couscous, grapes — Oh, for God's sake. You're going to kill us, aren't you?"
If they brought out the couscous, I don't even want to know what they were trying to make. "Well, definitely not. You're not worth living the rest of my life in jail for. But you'll be doing a bit of work for me to pay for the damages. For free."
They groan in unison but cut it off when I drag my hand past my knife. I eye them meaningfully and turn to the woman behind me. She smiles cautiously at me. "You're just as terrifying as Quentin said you are."
Quentin again.
"He said you used to threaten to kill off the school's bully."
"Oh, she's not actually going to kill us," DeBraun cheerily corrects the notion. "She'll just pin a part of our body to the wall and watch us dangle from it."
Simone's mouth dramatically falls open. "Really?"
"That was when you were five! And it was your shirt I pinned, DeBraun, not whichever part your child brain concocted!"
***
It's probably not healthy how eager I am to return to the hospital.
After getting Simone settled in and leaving the closing of the shop to the twin, I find my way back to the hospital. The nurses have lifted the ban on their relatives-only policy for me. For now, I'm considered his family.
I smile at the prone body on the bed, exhaustion making me want to fold into myself and just be. "How are you today?"
I fall against the sofa beside his bed in a slump. It's been a while since I read a book. Maybe I can get in four chapters and then fall asleep? I have to be back at Deónne's before six, at most, so I need to sleep early.
I turn to my side and face the stranger. "What do you think? Should I read? Or should I just sleep?"
He doesn't reply of course. His side profile is solid, balanced off with a strong, patrician nose and full mouth. Somehow, I think of Quentin in this moment. What he'd do if I'd saved the stranger while he was still home.
I'd been purposeful about not thinking about my brother, but now that I was, it's like a dam broke inside me.
I could have used his help now, d*mn it.
"He'd be jealous of you, at least," I tell the stranger. "You're taller and bigger. Definitely a prettier sight."
Then I feel terrible for noticing a man's physique and attractiveness while he's not even conscious for it. "Please just wake up. So I can feel better about ogling you, at least."
My voice is soft, too soft. Soon enough, I know I'll break and cry, and I won't do a thing to stop it.
At least, it'll only be in front of my stranger.
- Writer
