Even in a perfect world
Where everyone was equal
I’d still own the film rights
And be working on
The sequel …
-Elvis Costello, “Everyday I Write the Book”
It was Thanksgiving, and Taryn sat at her dressing table, trying to cover what was left of her bruises, now lovely shades of green and yellow, with make-up.
She and Iris had gone car shopping two nights previously, and had replaced the totaled Stratus with a hunter green Ford Explorer. Soon, the accident would be a distant memory.
Isaac had indeed called from the airport, and Taryn had recounted for him what had happened at her Saturday brunch with Cam, Gregor and Iris.
“Iris is really cool with this,” Taryn had told him. “She says if I like you, she thinks it’s great. And if she gets to meet Zac out of the deal, so much the better.”
Isaac had feigned exasperation. “Not a Zac disciple.”
“Afraid so.”
“What did Cam and Gregor have to say?”
“Well, Gregor basically accused me of being nuts, and Cam is acting jealous or something. But it’ll be okay.”
And Taryn thought that it indeed would be okay, although Thanksgiving was going to be hard to get through for her. In addition to missing Isaac and the fact that her two disapproving friends would be in attendance at the dinner Camilla Mathews was hosting, Taryn’s twin sister would also be making an appearance.
Despite the fact that they shared the same date of birth and the same parents and were each others’ mirror image, Taryn Dava Mathews and Tori Raquel Mathews-Carlisle were two completely different people.
Tori had never strayed from the beaten path. She had graduated from the same private high school as Taryn had, and when Taryn headed to Yale, Tori headed to Harvard.
While there, Tori met Ethan, a straight-laced literature major two years her senior. They began dating mere days after Tori took up residence at the campus, and had been a couple ever since.
Ethan had graduated at the end of Tori’s senior year, and he began teaching American/British literature at a prestigious private school in upstate New York. Tori finished her degree, they married the following summer, and Tori took a job teaching social studies at the same school Ethan worked at that fall.
Their children, 2-year-old Annabelle and 6-month-old Marcus, had both been meticulously planned and had arrived exactly when they were supposed to.
Yes, Tori Mathews-Carlisle was the exact opposite of her fly-by-the seat-of-her-pants sister. And although the twins loved each other fiercely, they locked horns on practically everything. Although their black-brown eyes were exactly the same, the way Taryn and Tori saw the world through them was vastly different.
Taryn sighed as she completed her make-up job. She hoped Isaac would call. She could always call him, but she felt strange doing that, because she knew his parents were unaware of their budding relationship.
Iris bounded into her mother’s bedroom, wearing a new navy Calvin Klein jumper with a navy and white checked turtleneck.
“Everyone’s here!” she chortled.
Taryn put on a happy face. “Great!” she said.
Taryn and Iris walked out into the foyer of the townhouse, where the guests were exchanging hugs and hellos.
Taryn embraced Cam and Gregor, then her sister and brother-in-law.
“Have you told your family what’s going on?” Gregor asked her quietly.
“No,” Taryn hissed. “And if you don’t mind, I don’t think today is the day for high drama, so keep a lid on it.”
It was then Tori suggested Taryn help her take the diaper bags and coats to Camilla’s room.
Uh-oh, Taryn thought. She wants to get me alone. That can’t be good.
When the twins were safely in Camilla’s room, Tori softly shut the door.
“What did I do this time?” Taryn asked.
“Would you mind explaining this to me?” Tori held a folded newspaper out to her sister.
Taryn unfolded it, and discovered it was a copy of NY Beat, a notoriously trashy entertainment rag. It was opened to page 10, where a small picture of Isaac and Taryn leaving Crazy Jakes’s was in the News of Note section. “Maybe we should call her Mrs. Robinson,” the caption read.
“Wow, I don’t even remember seeing a camera flash,” Taryn said absently.
“These people hide in trees, Taryn, but that’s really not the point,” Tori scolded. “Are you trying to kill our mother?”
“What would you like me to say?”
“How about what you’re thinking about taking up with an 18-year-old?”
“Tori, it’s not like that.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to tell me how it is,” Tori said flatly. “You are a 28-year-old woman, he is an 18-year-old boy.”
“I really care about him. He’s very mature,” Taryn said, begging her sister to understand.
“For God's sake, Taryn, what could the two of you possibly have to talk about?” Tori continued to rant. “Or is that it? Do you do everything but talk? I swear, Taryn, if all you needed was a plaything, why did it have to be someone in the public eye?”
Taryn’s jaw dropped. “This conversation is over,” she said, and brushed past her sister.
Taryn walked quickly to the living room, her sister close behind, unwilling to give up on the discussion.
Iris could tell right away something was wrong, and without thinking, she blurted, “Did she find out our secret? Is she mad about Isaac?”
The room fell dead silent, and all eyes were on Taryn.
“Who’s Isaac?” Camilla asked.
And with that, the cat was out of the bag.
