awake. Edwardâs speaking voice was pitched a little higher than Evanâs, although Evan could hit a higher pitch while shrieking, and they were seldom quiet at the same time unless they were asleep. They both had brown hair and blue eyes like their daddy and a sprinkle of freckles like their mama. Katie insisted she could tell them apart by the pattern of the freckles. While not entirely willing to call her a liar, Charlie couldnât.
At just over eighteen months, they still mostly shared a personality.
The moment she reached the living room, they demanded to be put down, so she settled on the floor with them.
The oldest auntiesâessentially Auntie Ruby who was two years older than God, well, some godsâbelieved that the familyâs identical twins shared a soul. The remaining aunties agreed that was a remnant of the old beliefs and Gale twins were no more likely to be short a soul than non-Gale twins. The rest of the family pretended not to notice that the aunties had hedged their bets with a distinctly nondefinitive statement. Charlie thought of her younger sisters and wasnât entirely certain Auntie Ruby was wrong.
âYour daddy says youâll become more individual as you get older.â Charlie grunted as Edward threw himself off the sofa into her arms, squirming free of her grip in time for her to catch Evan who followed the identical flight path. âYour daddy thinks because heâs a boy and youâre boys, he knows what heâs talking about. But your daddy isnât a Gale, and Gale boys are in a league of their own, arenât they?â
Evan burbled what Charlie took as agreement. Edward crawled under the coffee table, emerging a moment later holding a stuffed sheep. He stared at it, as though heâd never seen it before, then threw it across the living room. Evan took off after itâfour running steps before he fell and decided crawling was faster.
âDog!â Edward handed her a piece of a wooden train.
âNot even close, kiddo. Train.â
He shrugged, grabbed it back, and threw it. Evan dropped the sheep and beetled after the train.
It was possible that
dog
had been in reference to his brother who had apparently learned to fetch while Charlie was gone.
Given that most Gale boys had between fifteen and twenty girls on their lists, most Gale girls moved straight from third circle to first without stopping at stretch marks and cracked nipples and that weird letâs be connected to everything second circle got into. Charlie watched Edward run after Evan, bare feet slapping against the floor, plastic cover on his diaper crinkling with every step, and realized, given the impossible place her interest had fallen, that this might be as close to having children of her own as sheâd ever get.
She was good with that.
Both boys looked up as the door into the hall opened, then returned to racing the train and the sheep across the floor when they saw it was only Jack.
Charlie kept most of her attention on the boys because that was the responsible thing to do, but she saved enough to watch Jack shuffle toward the fridge, eyes half closed, one leg of his worn sweat pants torn and trailing on the floor, the other halfway up his calf. The sleeves had been ripped off his Calgary Stampede T-shirtâgiven his effect on livestock, he never actually got to go to the Stampedeâand his golden-blond hair appeared to be sticking up in seven or eight different directions. Fridge open, he tipped back the milk carton, swallowed half a dozen times, put the carton back in the fridge, pulled out a piece of bread, tucked a jar of peanut butter under his arm, and finally closed the fridge.
There were times when he made it easy for her to remember the relationship they were supposed to have, when he made it easy for her to show him the Charlie he thought he knew. It was, she had to admit, the best performance sheâd ever given. Okay, maybe second best.
At just over eighteen months, they still mostly shared a personality.
The moment she reached the living room, they demanded to be put down, so she settled on the floor with them.
The oldest auntiesâessentially Auntie Ruby who was two years older than God, well, some godsâbelieved that the familyâs identical twins shared a soul. The remaining aunties agreed that was a remnant of the old beliefs and Gale twins were no more likely to be short a soul than non-Gale twins. The rest of the family pretended not to notice that the aunties had hedged their bets with a distinctly nondefinitive statement. Charlie thought of her younger sisters and wasnât entirely certain Auntie Ruby was wrong.
âYour daddy says youâll become more individual as you get older.â Charlie grunted as Edward threw himself off the sofa into her arms, squirming free of her grip in time for her to catch Evan who followed the identical flight path. âYour daddy thinks because heâs a boy and youâre boys, he knows what heâs talking about. But your daddy isnât a Gale, and Gale boys are in a league of their own, arenât they?â
Evan burbled what Charlie took as agreement. Edward crawled under the coffee table, emerging a moment later holding a stuffed sheep. He stared at it, as though heâd never seen it before, then threw it across the living room. Evan took off after itâfour running steps before he fell and decided crawling was faster.
âDog!â Edward handed her a piece of a wooden train.
âNot even close, kiddo. Train.â
He shrugged, grabbed it back, and threw it. Evan dropped the sheep and beetled after the train.
It was possible that
dog
had been in reference to his brother who had apparently learned to fetch while Charlie was gone.
Given that most Gale boys had between fifteen and twenty girls on their lists, most Gale girls moved straight from third circle to first without stopping at stretch marks and cracked nipples and that weird letâs be connected to everything second circle got into. Charlie watched Edward run after Evan, bare feet slapping against the floor, plastic cover on his diaper crinkling with every step, and realized, given the impossible place her interest had fallen, that this might be as close to having children of her own as sheâd ever get.
She was good with that.
Both boys looked up as the door into the hall opened, then returned to racing the train and the sheep across the floor when they saw it was only Jack.
Charlie kept most of her attention on the boys because that was the responsible thing to do, but she saved enough to watch Jack shuffle toward the fridge, eyes half closed, one leg of his worn sweat pants torn and trailing on the floor, the other halfway up his calf. The sleeves had been ripped off his Calgary Stampede T-shirtâgiven his effect on livestock, he never actually got to go to the Stampedeâand his golden-blond hair appeared to be sticking up in seven or eight different directions. Fridge open, he tipped back the milk carton, swallowed half a dozen times, put the carton back in the fridge, pulled out a piece of bread, tucked a jar of peanut butter under his arm, and finally closed the fridge.
There were times when he made it easy for her to remember the relationship they were supposed to have, when he made it easy for her to show him the Charlie he thought he knew. It was, she had to admit, the best performance sheâd ever given. Okay, maybe second best.
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