Chapter Six: A Nightmare Come True?

Tuesday, August 10th
2:00 PM

The dreams are the worst part. Remember what I said about not remembering dreams unless they’re either horrific or sexual? Well, the doozies I had after being poured into Simon’s bed sure as hell weren’t sexual! There were dreams about being killed, being the killer, and just watching as someone else killed Simon. In them all I was always the guilty party no matter whether I was killer or victim. In some me, Dara, and Robert got the chair for what happened in various combinations. Even worse was one of the ones set at funerals. The sad occasion soon turned into a wild celebration that I had been removed from the lives of everyone gathered. Even Dara, Dieter, Michael, and Robert got up between dance sets to explain what was wrong with me and why they were all glad I was dead. When I got up to explain it wasn’t really me that died things got even got uglier. Those assembled turned on me, determined to correct the mistake. They were seconds from killing me in the last dream when I awoke with a jerk.

No, seriously. I awoke with a jerk. It came as a complete shock to me. Robert lay in the bed next to me. Not that I thought for one moment we had drunken sex the night before. I was under the covers and he was above them and I’m pretty sure he was wearing Joe’s boxers. What do I remember about getting in last night? Not a lot. I was pretty lit when we got to the Main Line. It turned out Robert’s reason for me putting a serious dent in the bar’s stock was pure genius. He and Joe wound up having to help me to ‘my’ room, thus avoiding Joe realizing I was clueless about where I was supposed to sleep. Joe undressed me as Robert admired the sparse furnishings. Simon seems to have shared my distaste for overdoing it when decorating. I’m pretty sure Joe’s hands strayed and lingered a bit while he was doing his job but I liked it so didn’t protest.

Careful not to wake Robert, I get up to do a more sober reconnaissance. The bedroom itself is huge. Decorated in black, including floors and walls, it just contains a bed even bigger than the one at The Ambassador, entertainment center, night stand, floor lamp, and two comfy looking armchairs. No clothes fill the closet, just boxes. One door leads to a bathroom suite equal in size to my apartment. Another opens on narrow stairs leading up and down into the house. The third is to the rest of the rooms that were Simon’s.

The central room has more in it but is barely more filled up than the bedroom. There’s another entertainment center, two more armchairs, a sectional that could house an entire Ozark family, and the monster sized desk that has Simon’s computer stuff. Everything that can be is black, including the best computer set up on Earth. There’s a third room, the same size as the bedroom, but Simon uses this one as a wardrobe. I’d learn later all the master bedroom suites are laid out the same, the sole exception being Margate’s. She had two suites combined for her living quarters. The guest rooms are smaller versions of the same. Simon wasn’t just loaded: He was stinking, filthy rich! I take some pride from that, especially since the news referred to him as CEO of Derwillion Foods. He clearly didn’t have to work and yet still did.

“Hey.” By the time I get back to the bedroom Robert is waking up and is watching Golden Girls. I’ve never seen such a big Bea Arthur in my life. I think it’s late but since by channel surfing you could watch Golden Girls all day how can I tell? “You even a little bit okay? I popped in after Joe had to go and you were must have been having one hell of a dream. Wanna talk about it?”

“About the dreams, no. About what we’re going to do next, you bet your overworked ass.” We continue to talk as I start the shower. “I figure it’s too late to scope out the office, wherever that is.”

“It’s right in the middle of the ritziest part of the business district. Derwillion Foods owns primo real estate and get this, you now have a studly sounding assistant named Chaz Griffith.” Robert doesn’t say anything about my assumption concerning going to the office. That probably means it we could go in if I insisted. What I’m more interested in is how Robert found out about the assistant. “Joe agreed with me that we should let you sleep but that the detective needed some crumbs thrown his way. He gave me your new office number and I got this Chaz started on an enemies list. Don’t freak on me but it’s apparently gonna be huge.”

“I guess that settles which one of us was the evil twin,” I say as I enjoy my favorite part of showering: the spray hitting the base of my skull and hot water running down my back. “You talk to Michael or check out how my family’s holding up?” In the back of my mind is the fun with Michael that last night derailed despite the revelations of what Manager Billy had really been to him. I know that Robert got huge amounts about Simon’s life out of Joe but that can wait.

“I spoke to Annette. She’s a wreck. Turns out she was planning on surprising you this morning down the shore with an all is forgiven speech. She ran into Dieter on his way to New York and he finally got through all the hurt that’s been keeping her away.” I don’t know how I manage to not cry at this news.

“Robert, we have to tell her...”

“Um, no we don’t. I know this sounds cold but we need someone showing honest grief at the funeral. Hey, she just forgave you for what you considered to be unforgivable. Her not holding this against you will be a snap compared to that.” Even through the shower curtain Robert must have seen my reaction. “Relax a little. I lied to Annette that Dieter had warned you about her visit. She sounded better after believing you died knowing all was okay between you two again. It’s your mom that’s the big worry.”

“Her heart?”

“Got it in one. She had a pretty decent sized heart attack last night after Kathy called. Annette was told another big shock anytime in the near future could be the one that does her in, especially since she won’t let them hospitalize her.” That’s no surprise either. Since surgery really isn’t an option for Mum’s condition she has refused most of the in patient treatments they’ve offered her. “Thank god you’re one call wasn’t home but to Michael...” It doesn’t take years of knowing him to realize Robert wishes he hadn’t brought up my once and hopefully future boyfriend. I’m praying my worst fears about him and Billy are true. That would be bad but not truly horrific. The way my luck is running, however, that can’t be it. That’s not painful enough.

“How is he? I know you called him.” I finish rinsing and kill the water so I can look Robert in the eye.

“We’ve got big trouble there and its name is Martha.” Big trouble cannot begin to cover it. Martha Fuchs is as evil as they come, pure and simple. If Michael hadn’t turned out gay she would have found something else wrong with him. I think on some level she’s glad her only child is gay. It gives her a socially acceptable reason to be disappointed in him. The Bitch Queen Empress also despises each and every one of his friends with me getting an extra big helping of hating. Little Mikey’s been a practicing homosexual since he was fifteen but I was living with him when he officially came out. To her it’s a momentary blip in her life plan for him that I was singlehandedly responsible for.

“We have a confirmed Martha sighting? Michael said she’d been sticking to the disowning thing this year.” I barely feel the world’s most comfortable towel drying me.

“Russo’s manager saw her in person. I think I caught him while he was still in shock.” Martha has that effect on mammals. “Martha and her driver came for Michael’s things in the middle of the breakfast rush. She said Michael was going home.” This is too much. I barely notice Robert directing me toward the clothes he must have picked out before he fell asleep beside me.

“That’s nuts. Even if a lobotomy made her accept Michael for who and what he is, he’d never go back home. Michael’s just not suited to be one of The Fuchs.” Note the capital The. The Fuchs have been huge in banking and investing since they invented banking and investing. The Catholic Church wishes they had as much money as Michael’s family has. Even a straight Michael wouldn’t be cut out for the family business. Returning to the family bosom would just mean a slow death.

“Hearing you were dead made Michael need a mother’s love and comfort. He can’t have been thinking straight because he forgot Martha doesn’t do either one. According to Whatshisname at the restaurant, Martha appeared delighted to inform him Michael was hearing dead people.”

“My call.”

“Yerp. Annette said Martha called to confirm you were toes up somewhere and thus that her beloved son was delusional. My guess? He’s either been checked into a woo hoo hoo hospital or on his way there.” For the second time in twenty-four hours I lose track of things going on around me. All I know is I’m a Bizarro Universe version of King Midas what with the way everything I touch turns to shit. What big things have I accomplished? Ruining Annette’s life, almost killing Mum with the news of my death, and now I’ve put Michael in a looney bin at his evil mother’s mercy with the news I hadn’t died. Robert’s reaction to my obvious inner turmoil? He pulls me into one of the hottest kisses anyone has ever given me. A few minutes later I push him away hard.

“Are you nuts? We don’t do that anymore!” Not sober anyway and I have to admit some small part of me wishes I hadn’t finished dressing before the kiss. Robert is a world class kisser. What’s so funny is he really doesn’t like kissing all that much. To him it’s just a means to an end.

“It was either that or slap you. I thought this way wouldn’t leave a red mark and besides, I don’t slap.”

“Tell that to Dieter,” I manage to huff.

“Dieter should keep his mouth shut and his hands out of my sock drawer.” Dieter said pretty much that last part himself. We were all afraid Dieter would tell us what was in the sock drawer if we asked nicely so we very carefully didn’t. “The important thing is that the kiss did its job. You still looping on the ‘what a loser shit I am’ message in your brain?” A smug Robert drops his boxers as he gets in to shower. A smaller part of him enjoyed the kiss too.

“Just let’s do the slap thing next time no matter what your principles. We’ve been down that road before and the year without you because of it was as bad as having my family throw me out. I won’t trade your friendship for sex,” Robert gives me the ‘go on’ look and I remember our agreement should this topic ever come up again, “even if it was the best sex I ever had or could possible ever hope to achieve again with anyone else ever,” I finish in monotone. It’s something Robert insists I say if our physical relationship ever gets discussed. It never fails to lift his spirits no matter how rote I am in my recital. “So what did you have figured for what’s left of the day? I thought we could back to back meeting Dara and letting the detective meet us.”

“Already done. We also need to make an appearance at the office. If they see you now it’ll go better than it would in a few days. It’s also weird how Dara chose Max’s Old Place. Turns out Derwillion Foods is the current owner. BTW, Max called Dara while you were on vacation.” Good old Max Hall. He’s one of Dara’s favorite surviving exes, a relationship that really had no future but was a lot of fun despite that. Max turned an insurance settlement into Max’s, one of Philly’s hottest clubs ever. Then he traded up for an even more successful Max’s in NYC. Dara calls him the one that ran away. They still hook up occasionally when they’re in the same city and single. “Oh, and office boy e-mailed some work. The thought his Simon would be too emotionally distraught to work never occurred to Chaz.” Robert then presses a button on the deceptively antique looking intercom system on the wall.

“Yes, dear?” A sweet voiced older woman answers.

“He’s up, Mrs. O’Henry.”

“Now, Robert. I told you I’m Mrs. O to my boys and that’s what you are now.” Robert wasted no time with Mrs. O. She must be great to deserve that. “The usual?”

“Only if it’s cold cereal and tea. I’ve been extolling the virtues of Honey Comb to your Simon.”

“You’ll be happy to know I keep a supply of just that for my great-grandson. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him when his mothers drop him by this weekend.” The two mommies thing is no surprise to Robert. He really has been working it since getting here. “I’ll send Pat right up.” I wait until Robert breaks the connection.

“You worked her good.”

“Si, she worked me. Mrs. O blames herself for the other you being so repressed. I guess I would too if I was her.” That doesn’t sound right and Robert reads that on my face. “I didn’t say it was really her fault. She just blames herself is all.” For a moment Robert appears about to explain but then the magpie trait resurfaces as he sees a shiny bauble. This time it’s a laptop.

“Robert...”

“Chill, Simon. This machine is just so cool. I bet not even Andre has this sweet a laptop.” Before I can stop him, Robert has it booted up. I expected him to start looking for porn on the Internet but instead he accesses the e-mails this Chaz person sent. “Cool. P&L’s on some of the stores Derwillion owns, background on places they might buy, and credit checks on prospective buyers on places they wanna dump. That reminds me. We need Other Simon’s credit history and so on. Might give us some clues. Definitely help us pull this off even if it’s no other help. What?” Robert’s annoyed with the way I’m staring. I can’t help it. Flighty and superficial waiter boy is talking like any of what he’s just said is in English. It’s just not right.

“What are you talking about? Credit checks and P&L’s? What do you know about business shit?”

“My whole life doesn’t revolve around sex.” I can’t keep my laugh in but Robert joins in rather than getting offended. “Okay, ninety percent of it does. I know this stuff because of Kathy. I avoided work at closing by hanging out with her and she noticed a lot of her paperwork made sense to me. She showed me what she was doing. Ever notice she’s been on the floor at close as much as I’m not? I’ve been doing Kathy’s job and even some of the big boss’s. Donna would shit if she knew the last month’s worth of schedules were all written by me.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Robert?” This gets a pillow tossed at me.

“Hey, if I can juggle three dates in one night then numbers naturally would be easy. Why don’t you make yourself useful? Log on at the desk and access Chaz’s enemies list.”

“It won’t mean a thing to me,” I pout.

“Duh. I just suggested it so you could feel useful but shh, don’t tell yourself. ‘Sides, with all the similarities you and this guy have maybe you’ll spot something by instinct. Now, shoo. This one P&L’s a doozy. This store’s gonna be bleeding money soon if this isn’t nipped in the bud.” I think Robert’s forgotten me, so absorbed is he by whatever’s got him so excited, but he proves me wrong when I’m thwarted by the password. “Oh yeah. The password’s ‘Kill me. Kill me now’. Talk about irony in action.”

“Eerie, too. I’ve used one’s just like it.” The computer springs to life and a picture of Joe, Margate, and Simon drunk at a Christmas party comes to life as wallpaper.

“You mean ‘take me now, lord’ or ‘The world is shit’?” The cold look Robert gets demands he explain. “Dude, I’ve been hacking since Andre turned me on to it. If I can learn a lot from Kathy in a crowded office then screwing the Eastern seaboard’s best computer programmer would be like a master class. Remind me to e-mail you Dara’s journal files some time. Now those are classics.” Should I tell him Dara knows someone hacked her system? Nah. Let him find out for himself someday. Dara planted a whole bunch of stuff about her unrequited passion for her gay friends hoping the culprit would tip his hand for the sake of a joke.

“This is weird, Si. It’s like someone has been trying to fuck up.” He tries to show me on the indecipherable columns scrolling across his screen when I’m saved by a knock on the door. Robert reaches for the phone as I get a look at this Pat Mrs. O has sent us. The blonde pushing the breakfast cart is almost as much of a knockout as Joe, who I gather he’s spoken to already today. There’s something like a smirk on his Brad Pitt-esque face as he takes in Robert.

“One gourmet brunch, sir,” he says as he wheels the cart in. As he passes me I see all the reason I’d need to hire him. I kinda feel sorrier for my dead twin now. He surrounded himself with a gay buffet but from what we can tell he never sat himself down to eat. “Joe and some Dara chick both called. They’ll meet y’all at Max’s Old Place about the same time as the cops. Did Robert tell you they all knew the original Max?”

“Apparently this Dara chick even dated him.” Robert confirms this and Pat is blown away.

“No shit. I was just off the bus from Nowhere, Idaho, back then but one good look at Max cleared up what little confusion I had about what team I played on.” I can’t believe how open first Joe and now Pat is around me. Did my brother live vicariously through them? I hope so. Secondhand thrills beat none at all. In the background we hear Robert requesting the same records for the three previous months and promising to treat Chaz to drinks if he hurries. “Tell Joe’s new little friend there not to bother with the prep. Chaz has got it pretty bad for you, boss.” From the look on Pat’s face, I gather he crossed some line he had been warned about.

“Then I guess he likes his men to be real hard to get.” I’m rewarded with that trademark breezy smile of Pat’s. I was wrong about why Simon would have hired Pat. The body and looks are just extras. The uncomplicated good cheer he radiates is his true selling point. “Anyway, who could get enough of Joe in one night? There’s always time to work on Chaz next week.” Now this appears to confuse Pat. Apparently the banter is only supposed to go one way, the occasional snide comment not included. He recovers enough to remind me that this is Mrs. O’s night off and he may see us at the club. Robert stays silent until the door is closed.

“Joe was right about him. Eager to please but nary a clue. He’s gonna be homeless once those looks fade.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s got a good personality.” Robert snorts his response.

“That goes far in a club. ‘That other guy is so hot but check out the personality on Pat!’”

“He actually reminds me of you-”

“WHAT!?”

“-only without the brainpower.” His answer this time is to make another ebon throw pillow live up to its name. “Don’t be so hard on Pat, especially in the first five minutes. Eye candy that can make you feel good is rare. What were you up to with Chaz? Planning to go through all of Simon’s employees?”

“Hardly. I’m a one man kinda guy.” A raise eyebrow follows that. “Okay, a one man at a time kinda guy with exceptions made by appointment. Wouldn’t matter anyhow. Pat was right about Chaz having it bad for ‘you’. Every other sentence was all about asking how you were doing. I just had to shmooze him to make sure I got the info I wanted and here it is now. Aha! I was right!”

“Had to happen someday,” I mutter but Roberts hear sit anyways.

“Very ha-ha. You just earned the right to be ignorant for a bit longer.” He’s serious too. With a flourish Joan Crawford would have been proud of, Robert swivels so his back is to me as I dig into brunch. I stick out my tongue at his back but it’s really Robert who’s the one losing out here. He’s given up a chance to show off how clever he is.

Me, I’ve got the super-computer to play with. It probably has the computing power necessary to run a small country and it’s mine, all mine! It sure as hell beats my dinosaur back home. That only reminds me of Annette or whoever gets the job of packing up my apartment. I may not be a whiz at restaurant management but I can do something about that. I scroll through the cell phone’s address book until I get to Chaz and hit dial.

“Derwillion Foods, Simon Douglas’ offices, this is Chaz, how may I help you?” Man, Robert was right about the voice! He sounds like honey dripped on beefcake.

“It’s me, Chaz.”

“Oh, Mister Douglas! It’s such a relief to hear you. Ms. Derwillion and Joe said you were in good hands with Robert but all of us down here were still worried. Do you need anything?” I almost forget to answer. I’m enjoying listening to him too much.

“Actually, yes. Contact the dead man’s family. Tell them we’ll hire someone to pack up the other Simon’s apartment for them.” Then it hits me just how much use an assistant can be. “And, Chaz? How are you at funeral arrangements?”

“As bad as anyone else, sir, but I have a cousin who works for a funeral home. Blinky will love to help.” That’s a relief. “Sir, what if they want some personal thing to remember your...brother by?”

“The people you hire will have to do an inventory, Chaz. We give the family an edited list and they can decide which items they want. Robert gave me his sister’s name and cell phone number. She’s Annette Carpenter and the number is 623-377-7222.”

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

“What else is wrong, Chaz?”

“Wrong?”

“Chaz, you sound like a man trying not to say something. There was even a pause before you said ‘wrong?’. You’re debating whether to burden me with something.” Wow, I’m pulling this off! All I have to do is cut down on contractions and talk like I have a baseball bat up my butt.

“Well, it just seems like is the last thing I should be telling you at a time like this.”

“Chaz, everyday diversions might be what I need.” If only he knew! “Tell me what you’re holding back or you’re fired.”

“So soon? I’ve never been fired before Wednesday before.” I should have known Simon’s sense of humor would dovetail neatly with mine.

“Out with it, Chaz.” I hear the sigh of a true drama queen.

“It’s all those P&L’s and other files I got for Robert. Mister Marquette’s secretary says he’s livid with her and I for doing that without consulting him. He’s also worked up over Ms. Derwillion banning him from calling you today.” I’ll have to check out who this Mister Marquette is. Chaz clearly dislikes him immensely.

“And Mister Marquette needs to speak with me? Why not Margate or Paterson. If he needs someone’s go-ahead they should be enough.” Another sigh. It’s a pretty good one too.

“Mister Derwillion could but he’s terrified of what his sister will do if he goes along with what Mister Marquette wants.”

“Chaz, stop wasting time. Tell me what Margate would kill Paterson over!” The best sigh yet follows. This guy should go pro.

“Mister Marquette has a press conference set up for you and all he needs is to speak to you to get the ball rolling. Ms. Derwillion got wind of it and made sure no one at the office or your home would help Fern speak with you.” My silence encourages Chaz to continue. “Mister Marquette wants to exploit the death to get Derwillion Foods some free and sympathetic press. Your aunt was livid at the man’s callousness.”

“Next time you speak to her tell my aunt she wasted her time.” From Chaz’s gasp I can guess everyone’s fear was that the real Simon Douglas would have gone along with Fern Marquette’s ghoulish plan. “Let Mister Marquette know that there will be no speaking to the press or exploiting the Carpenter Family’s grief. Also inform the man that Margate will be handling any calls from the press from here on in. We can at least count on my aunt to use good judgement and taste.” I know got a little heated but that it’s enough to get silent applause from Robert is a surprise.

“Yes, sir. Oh, and Mister Douglas, do you remember my cousin Jelly Bean?” My god, what is it with the names of Chaz’s cousins?

“Jelly Bean?”

“The cop.” Like that helps.

“If I lie that I remember him-”

“Her.”

“-will you get on with it?” I can’t believe Chaz doesn’t get fired more often! At least he does finally continue.

“I called her as soon as Detective Levy got off the phone with me. JB says he’s the best. If he can’t uncover every dark secret surrounding your brother’s death then no one can.”

“We’re screwed!!”

”Me maybe when Joe gets home but I don’t know about you.” Not the reaction I expected when I told Robert about the super cop!

“This isn’t funny!”

“If you were looking at yourself in a mirror right now you wouldn’t be saying that. You ever wonder why we all take off when you get upset? We split so you don’t get more upset from us laughing.” Robert continues sorting his printouts as he plays down my terror. “I already knew Levy’s rep. Syd has lot of cop customers so I called him for the 411. He says the guy is so decent and honorable he should be on TV. ‘Member those hookers that were getting whacked a few years back?”

“The Sin Stalker?” One of Philly’s little serial killers.

“Levy’s the one who solved it. Syd said he resisted pressure from everywhere to settle for the homeless guy they arrested first. If it weren’t for super cop there’d still be an insane preacher out there offing sinners. I think Syd has a hardon for the guy. Straight acting was a thing for him so why shouldn’t a guy being totally straight be even more of one? Syd must have mentioned three times Levy was breeder through and through.” I have to get off this train of thought. Sex and Syd are two mental images I refuse to combine!

“So I guess using you to distract him is out?”

“Don’t think I won’t try anyway. I would do a woman if it’d save our lives. Hopefully it won’t come to that and our secret weapon will be enough.” Robert pauses long enough so I can join in.

“The Dara-nator!” We giggle uncontrollably. Dara doesn’t even know she’s our secret weapon. We just turn her loose on any breeder we want to befuddle and sit back and wait.

“Did she really flirt with Simon?”

“She was at one button when he came in and was down two more by the time I had to get back on the floor.” Robert means how Dara was wearing her barely regulation white blouse. With her decolletage, two buttons undone is usually enough to get a generous tip from the cheapest breeder male or lesbian. Three buttons is when she starts converting breeder women and gay men.

“That bad?”

“Worse. My theory’s she was acting out all those fantasies she had before you came out to her. Like Charlie. I mean, was he a watered down you or what?”

“You know, except for the sex thing, me and Dar would make a perfect couple.” It’s actually a thought that’s crossed my mind every so often.

“So get married and hire a bisexual pool boy.”

“Nah. We have a policy against dating any of your exes.” Robert flipped me off so casually it was almost reflexive.

“Another rude ha-ha. And here I was so close to forgiving you for hurting my feelings so bad a few minutes ago...”

“Drop the bullshit, ‘Ert. You forgave me the second you realized you couldn’t stay mad at me and continue showing off how brilliant you are.” Apparently bored with the physical effort of extending his middle finger, Robert reaches for a flash card he has prepared. What it suggests is rude and has me remembering a day we were snowed in some years ago. “I don’t know. First you crawl in bed with me and now this lewd proposition...”

“And you keep sinking further and farther. Ah, I suppose I’ll just have to be the bigger man-”

“In what alternate reality?” I know, I know. We should really be focusing on the matter at hand and somewhere my subconscious is. It’s just I think I’ll go bug fucking nuts if my conscious mind gets in on the act too.

“I stand corrected: The much bigger man. Shut up and listen. I think someone’s trying to do some subtle sabotage. There’s almost a pattern in what’s hurting Derwillion Foods now and what will hit it hard soon.” Robert switches to serious face now. “Most problems are being fixed only partly, just from their paperwork turned in I think a lot of the managers aren’t getting fully trained, and then they get transferred around too quick for them to really finish anything they’ve started at a store. It’s a shitload of time bombs just waiting to go off. This Fern guy is the most likely sinister mastermind as the lead supervisor for the restaurants. Joe said Simon got him to sign a new contract with the company and Fern was less than thrilled to be staying on. Coercion on Simon’s part is probable.”

“Is his last name Marquette by any chance?”

“How-? Oh right. I heard you mention him on the phone. What did Chaz say about him? Joe mentioned that Margate and Mrs. O would be running interference. It seemed like they considered the guy a bad influence on their Simon.” What Robert is hinting at is that Chaz let down the home team by bringing up anything Marquette related.

“Chaz doesn’t work for Joe or them. When asked something by his boss, he answers. He told me the creep wanted to exploit ‘my’ death to get the company In the papers. What kind of mind would think like that?” Even if it didn’t hurt my family I can’t imagine considering an action like that. Robert deliberately doesn’t look at me as he answers.

“Um, Si? Joe and them weren’t keeping you and him apart so as to avoid upsetting you. They were worried you’d jump at the suggestion. Your twin probably would have told Fern yes in a heartbeat.” It only takes me a moment to realize this isn’t the shock Robert expected it to be.

“Chaz did seem surprised I was so disgusted by the idea. I guess repression can even make the best guys assholes.” I know what my bestest friend is gonna say even as I see his lips start to part. Something about no twin of mine having a chance at being best anything. “Oh, shut up. Just wait until you meet your evil twin.” Robert chuckles.

“‘Hon, have you missed the last few years? I am the evil twin.” More chuckling. The truth doesn’t always have to hurt. Sometimes it just hits the funny bone. Then Robert starts packing up my newly inherited briefcase. “Oh and there’s something else I thought of. When we hit the office we need to expose you to as many people there as possible.” Can we say scary, boys and girls?

“Is that wise?” See? I’m already starting to talk like him.

“I was thinking...” Robert scowls as he realizes what I’m humming is from Beauty and the Beast. “There are gonna be some things you cant do Douglasian. We expose the office folk to you now while you’re in shock and they have a reason for how you’re acting different. ‘Sides, I want at some of the cool stuff KA’s will never have!” And thus we were off on an adventure I never dreamed I’d have!