“How did you find out about me?” Tracy asked, turning to her sister.
“Hm?” Hallie asked absently, eyes pasted to whatever TV show was on.
Tracy cleared her throat. “I asked how you found out about me,” she repeated. “I mean, how did you find out we were twins?”
Hallie flipped the television off and turned to Tracy. “Well,” she began with a sigh, “I was looking through old photo albums last year for an autobiography project I had to do and I noticed that Mom and Dad were getting a little edgy about it. Then, one night, when they thought I was a sleep, I saw Mom hide an album I hadn’t looked through yet. I waited until she and Dad were at work the next day and took it out. When I looked through it, I saw baby pictures. I remember thinking, ‘Why don’t they want me seeing my baby pictures?’ - cuz they looked so much like me. So, I took the pictures out of the book and looked at the back of them. ‘Tracy’, they all said. Born: April 12th, 1983 - our birthday. Not my name, but ‘Tracy’. At first, I thought I was adopted. But then I found the picture.
“It was one of the two of us. You and me. Together. Our names were both on the back. That was when I realized you existed. And after that, things just started clicking. I mean, I always felt like there was some other part to me. Somebody else out there that was part of me. So, after that day, I dedicated everything I had to finding you.” She broke off, eyes glistening, to give a smile. “And now, here you are!”
Tracy smiled too. “Yeah. Here I am,” she whispered. “Thanks for finding me.”
Hallie wrapped her arms around Tracy. “I love you, sister.”
Tracy placed her arms around Hallie in return. “I love you, too.”
Just then, there was a clicking, slow whirring sound. Hallie pulled back from her sister. “Laundry’s done. Now I have to go put it in the dryer,” she said, standing up. When she was halfway across the room, she added, “Because the sooner this gets done, the sooner we can go.”
Tracy watched as her sister walked toward the laundry room, white robe swishing around her legs. She let out a small groan. “I don’t want to go.”
But how are you gonna tell her that? her mind taunted. “Sorry, Hallie, but I don’t want to be a part of this plan anymore. Let’s go to the mall!” Yeah, right!
Tracy sighed. There was no way for her to back down.
Hallie walked back into the living room. “Trace, I’m gonna take a nap, okay? Keep an eye on the laundry, please? Wake me when it’s done,” she said.
“Yeah, sure,” Tracy said simply. Hallie smiled and started back down the hallway she’d emerged from.
There was a long silence that followed. Tracy looked around the room; first, at a clock - 4:54 p.m., it read. She then looked at all the pictures on the walls. So many pictures. One of my parents loves the camera, she thought.
Slowly, almost entranced, Tracy walked up to a picture of Hallie as a baby, playing in a piece of cake. Shady square and rectangular blotches showed color in the background. Tracy couldn’t focus on them; instead, she focused on her sister’s face. Sweet, round, angelic. Just like her own at . . . How old was she in this picture?
Without another thought, Tracy took the picture off the wall. Slowly, she removed the backing of the frame and looked for writing on the sheen white of the picture. 5-20-84; one year old, it read.
A year, a month, a week, and a day, Tracy thought absently, replacing the back of the frame and returning it to it’s resting place.
