Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

A TWIN STORY

by
László Széchényi

Dedicated to my twin daughters Andrea and Alexandra

I'm Bill. I'm happily married to Jane. We share many good things in life. She loves music, I love music. (Not always the same, but we compromise.) She loves a good time, I love a good time. (Always the same.) She likes parties, I like parties. She makes friends very quickly, so do I. She likes clothes, frankly, I don't care about who wears what, but I go along with the fun. She loves to go shopping for clothes, I tag along lilke a good husband.

She spends time selecting things, and exercises exquisite taste in the selection process, eliminating everything except that one, that very special one that satisfies all her exquisite tastes. For the sake of peace, I let her choose most of my things too. I stand around twiddling my thumbs and eyeing the store help, only to get re- convinced that time has taken its toll these days, even in the best of stores.

We do go home perfectly happy and laden with boxes containing the treasures of the day, destined to kill, absolutely kill, at the upcoming formal-jacket-and-tie- dinner-dance party at the club.

Then there is my old rival and arch-enemy, Bob. He is happily married to Joan. Twin sister of my wife Jane. They seem to share many good things in life. She loves music, he loves music (sometimes.) She adores clothes, he foots the bill. She goes shopping for hours for both of them, while he (justifiably) takes a break and enjoys the football game on TV. It’s below his dignity to look for the flowers of June (present or past) in the ladies apparel boutiques. But he congratulates Joan profusely when she returns with the exquisite fruits of her days’ labor wrapped in colorful cartons and shopping bags displaying the numerous names which will identify the charges on next month’s credit card statement.

Inspection of the contents of these wrappings convinces even Bob that victory is not just a possibility, but is definitely assured at the upcoming formal-jacket-and- tie-dinner-dance party at the club.

The Mercedes rolling into the driveway at the club a few cars behind ours looks familiar, but then so do all the others in front or behind.

Jane makes her grand entrance, smiling at the club director, while I take care of mundane arrangements with the valet. We enter the dinner-dance salon arm in arm, Jane shooting murderous glances at the dresses worn by the competition, while we both shout delighted Hi’s and Hello’s dipping our heads in this and that direction. When we finally settle at our designated table, even I notice that Jane is pacified by the appearance of the other ladies at the table; definitely a few notches below her exquisite taste.

In comes arch-rival Bob with dear Joan on his arm. They head for a table on the far side of the salon, thank God, because horror of horrors.... I hear Jane giving forth with a faint sound resembling the last horrorful gurgle in a drowning throat, as she stares with bulging eyes and rising blood in her cheeks at dearest Joan all decked out in exactly the same exquisite combination of silks, chiffons, prints, patterns, folds, cutaways and numerous other, to me unintelligible, specifications of what’s otherwise known as a dress.

Jane, with utter self control, grabs my right thigh, sinking her sharp fingernails right through the (I thought) rather sturdy material of my pants and murmurs into my ear: “Bill dear, I’ll be right back.” She then slowly gets up from the table and with a sweet, innocent smile, takes her exit, seemingly to where even the Queen has to go on foot.

I notice that a few minutes later at the other end of the salon, Joan makes a similar exit, leaving my poor rival and arch-enemy, Bob, totally deserted among very well dressed elderly members of the opposite sex.

Being the gentleman I was raised to be, and never one to undermine strong family ties in any way, I excuse myself from the collection of rather aged companions at my own table, and make a beeline over to Bob’s to ask him to join me for a few at the open bar. He gladly concedes, feeling utterly deserted by a hastily departed best half, who apparently didn’t even whisper a reason to him that would have been halfway acceptable.

We so commiserate for a while, oiling our by now totally dried-out larynxes, and just when I start to tell Bob the best joke of the day, Jane re-appears in an absolutely stunning, totally different and unique creation of, I’m sure, the very best of the best Paris dreamers-up of feminine vanity. I’m speechless, but Jane quickly comes to my rescue by saying: “You didn’t think I would be caught dead without an emergency backup, did you?” Admittedly, there is something to be proud of when one is lucky enough to be married to such an absolute genius.

Not even half a bourbon-old-fashioned later, in waltzes Joan, radiant in an absolutely stunning, totally different and unique creation of, I’m sure, the very best of the best Paris dreamers-up of feminine vanity..... an absolutely genuine..... CARBON COPY of Jane’s brilliant back-up triumph!

The atmosphere is thick, temperatures rising, self-control vanishing rapidly, and the dangers of fratricidal warfare are very acute indeed, when my oldest rival and arch- enemy, Bob, steps into the battlefield saying:

“Now, now, ladies, let’s all be reasonable, let’s not forcibly and in anger tear up all family ties, just because by some crazy co-incidence, Bill and I are wearing THE SAME TIE!

_____________________________________________________________________________

Author: László Széchényi (Pronounced Lahslow Say-chainey)

Contact: vista_del_lago@verizon.net

Author's_Profile:

Born in Hungary in 1931, I lived on my father's country estate until age 13 when I had to flee at the end of WW II. As a refugee from Communism, I lived in Austria until emigration established a new permanent home in the US. Extremely varied background, world-wide travel, international experience, 34 years in computer sales and marketing combined with a passion for the written word, compelled me to use my retirement in Florida to write. Author of three books: "Visions of Utopia," "In Quest of Nirvana" and "The Curse of Cheju Island".This short story is fiction based on my experiences in raising twins.

To return to author’s Home Page please click on:

Home Page

Thanks!