The Other Twin

She tugged off the little girl’s wet bottoms and led her to the bathroom.

Last night she’d washed Isabella’s meager laundry. When the girl was finished in the bathroom, Cheryl helped her put on the least stained clothes she’d found.

“Josh.” She shook his shoulder. “Unless you want to miss the camp bus, you need to move.”

He pushed off the covers, hung over the railing and dropped to the floor. “What’s that smell?” He pretended to choke, then headed for the bathroom, still gagging.

“Come on, Isabella.” She headed to the kitchen and the silent girl followed. She would deal with the sheets later.

She set her in Josh’s old booster chair and poured a bowl of cereal. By the time she was buttering toast, Josh joined them.

“That’s my chair,” he complained.

“And you’re too big for it.”

He took his toast to the table and started eating.

Cheryl quickly pulled his lunch together. Sandwich, apple, carrot sticks and a cookie.

“Can I have three cookies?” He turned those big brown eyes at her.

“Three? That’s too many,” she said.

“My friends like your cookies.”

“You’re giving them away?”

“I share.”

Great. Did the other parents know the kids were trading food? It was only for another week, so she tucked two more cookies into the bag.

Sipping her tea, she watched the kids finish their breakfasts. Josh had forgotten his resentment and chatted on and on. He even gave Isabella the last piece of toast.

The girl didn’t speak but she nodded every now and then. What would Nathan do with Isabella today? Not Cheryl’s concern.

At exactly seven thirty, the construction crew arrived. They were better than an alarm clock. Low voices murmured on the ground floor. She could measure the restaurant’s progress with each hammer strike and screech of the saw.

She wanted to work in Abby’s new restaurant, but she hadn’t gathered the courage to ask her boss. She’d hoped to take more classes, but that would bury her in debt.

“Brush your teeth,” she told the kids. Nathan should be here soon.

Right on time, she heard someone climbing the outside steps followed by a knock on the door.

She threw the dead bolt.

Nathan hadn’t shaved. His eyes were bloodshot. Had he been drinking all night?

Crossing her arms, she stepped back as far as she could to let him in.

“Did she have any more problems sleeping?” he asked.

“She wet the bed. You should buy Pull-Ups.”

He shoved his hand through his hair. “What the hell is a Pull-Up?”

“They’re a nighttime diaper,” she explained with a sigh. “Maybe Isabella wasn’t used to the bed.” Or to her father.

“Crap. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.” He held out a hand. “Did you think about taking care of her?”

“I can’t.” She wasn’t taking on his responsibilities when she had so many of her own. “You’ll learn.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Josh,” she called, “we have to go.”

Nathan caught her hand. At his touch, an unwanted zing went through her body. She tried to pull away, but he hung on.

“I need help. I need... I don’t even know.” He squeezed her fingers. “Can you at least help me shop? Please?”

His brown eyes were darker than her son’s. Darker than Brad’s. At the memory of Brad’s laughing eyes, she yanked her hand away. “Josh, hurry.”

The kids came to the door. Isabella wrapped her arm around Cheryl’s leg, hiding from Nathan. He reached down, but the girl scuttled back.

“It’s okay.” Cheryl picked her up and handed her to Nathan.

“Please help me shop for her. I’ll...pay you. Twenty bucks an hour. For...” His voice trailed off.

He couldn’t remember his own daughter’s name? “Isabella.” She didn’t have time to get involved, but her heart ached for the frightened girl.

“Fine. You don’t have to pay me,” she said. “Just...buy me and Josh dinner.”

* * *

NATHAN PULLED CHERYL’S car in front of his parents’ house. Begging to use her car again hadn’t been fun.

Mom had agreed to watch Isabella during the day. At least until he found day care or his parents left for Pop’s monthly cancer treatments in Texas. He wanted to turn the whole mess over to someone more capable than him, but no one volunteered.

“We’re at grandma’s.” He unbuckled Isabella. She held up her arms and latched onto him like a monkey. His heart stuttered. He stroked her hair. “You’ll have fun.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed his lies. Fake it until you make it, right? That had been his motto in school. That or “Screw it. I don’t understand, so why bother?”

This time not bothering wasn’t an option.

“Come on, kid.” He hoisted her higher onto his hip. “You remember grandma from yesterday?”

She nodded.

Mom met them at the door. “Here you are. We’re going to have fun today.”