Page 11 of Mirror Image

That was the moment I made my decision.

I might not be able to turn back the clock and give her a better past, but I could absolutely make sure she had a better future. One that included a family.

Watching my father’s face when he opened the front door to our Coral Gables home was like watching one of those old silent movies—an over-the-top montage of expressions playing out over the course of a few seconds. First there was his surprise at finding me on the steps, followed in short order by delight. I hadn’t told them I was coming. From there he registered curiosity that I’d brought someone home with me. At that point it became a blur of disbelief, shock, confusion, and one or two other emotions that I couldn’t put a name to.

“Surprise!” I yelled as I threw my arms up in the air. “It’s a girl!”

“Uh . . . Terry?” he called out over his shoulder, too softly at first. Then he shouted, “Terry!”

My mother’s response came from the kitchen at the back of the house. “What is it, Doug? I’m going over the numbers for tomorrow’s meeting.”

Still dazed, still holding the door partially closed, my father tried again. “Can you please just . . . ? Can you come out here? Now? It’s . . . it’s Mary.”

I could hear her bare feet pounding the hardwood floor of the hallway.

“Oh, dear God, did something happen to Mary?” she was asking even as she ran. By the time she reached the front door and pulled it the rest of the way open, her panic was palpable. “What is it? What’s happened to Mary?”

The question was out of her mouth an instant before her eyes could process what they were seeing.

I launched myself into her arms. “Mom, I’m fine! I’m okay! I didn’t mean to scare you guys. I just . . . The most unbelievably incredible thing happened today at college. Look!”

I spun around, draping an arm across each of their shoulders so the three of us faced Sam, who peered back at us from the other side of the threshold.

“I don’t understand,” Mom said, her head swinging back and forth between the two of us like she was watching a rapid-fire round of the US Open.

Her confusion seemed genuine, which was, in a way, a relief. If they’d looked guilty or sheepish or if they’d had no reaction at all, then I’d have wondered if they’d already known of her existence. But they seemed to be just as stunned as I was.

“M-Mary?” Dad stammered, glancing over and down at me. “What is this? What’s going on?”

“Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you all about it!” I suggested excitedly.

Suddenly it was as if my father remembered his manners. “Oh, yes—of course,” he murmured, stepping back and gesturing for my newfound twin to join us. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Uh . . . Samantha,” she provided, walking forward a little tentatively, as if afraid to actually enter the house. “Samantha—Sam. Sam Kinski.”

When she was standing in the vestibule with us, I took her elbow, pulling her next to me so my parents could get the full effect of seeing us side by side.

“We think we’re twins,” I blurted. “Same birthday, both put up for adoption as babies. And look at us! We’re identical! It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? I mean, can you believe this? How could we not have known? All this time, all these years we could have been together!”

I was practically bouncing off the terracotta-tiled floor in my excitement. My parents, however, looked like one of those cartoons where the guy’s been hit on the head with a giant mallet and he’s just standing there in a stupor, little bluebirds circling his head.

I snapped my fingers in front of them. “Hello! Anyone in there? Mom! Dad! Are you listening to me?” I asked with an amused chuckle.

“Twins?” Mom echoed incredulously.

“Twins,” I confirmed. “Boy, you should see the look on your faces! Come on, let’s go sit inside.”

I gestured for Sam to follow me and then led the way toward the back of the house and the open-plan den adjacent to the kitchen. I sat on one of the overstuffed couches, patting the seat next to me so she’d join me. Mom and Dad perched on the edge of the love seat across from us. He took his glasses off with one hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other.

“Okay, why don’t you just start at the beginning,” he said after replacing the frames. “How did this happen? I mean—where did you two meet?”

I explained my surreal interaction with the guy at the ID counter and my visit to Kappa 219, where I came face-to-face with my doppelganger.

“So this just happened?” Mom asked, pointing to the floor. “Today?”

“Like”—I paused to glance down at my watch—“six hours ago. I convinced Sam that we should just hop in the car and drive down here so I could tell you in person. There was no way you were going to believe it if you didn’t see us. Both of us. Together.”

They were staring at us, eyes moving between our faces. I could tell they were comparing every curve, every arch, every crease. But I already knew what they’d find. Give us the same hairstyle and clothing, and we could be the same person. The idea of it sent a little thrill of excitement through me, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.