The Mirror Sisters

by V. C. Andrews

  “No,” Daddy replied, smiling. “Cindy’s ex-husband is Cuban. They named her after his mother. Mercedes is from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary, Maria de las Mercedes, which means Mary of Mercies. I didn’t know all that before I met Cindy,” he added, looking back at us, still with a smile.

  “Where did you meet her?” I asked.

  “On a job. She works for a company we’re going to buy,” he said.

  “Then she’ll work for you,” Haylee said.

  “I guess. If she continues. So tell me about your party. Where was it?”

  “At someone’s house,” Haylee said. She nudged me. “We watched a movie you might know.”

  “What movie?”

  “What was it, Kaylee?”

  “To Kill a Mockingbird,” I said.

  “Great movie. Did you read the book? Is that part of the curriculum?”

  “The what?” Haylee asked.

  “The course,” I said. “What we have to read in literature class. It’s one of the optional titles. We have to do book reports and can choose it.”

  “Even though you saw the film, I’d say read the book.”

  “We will.”

  “It’s optional,” Haylee said. “I might choose something else.”

  Daddy started to tell us about the books he enjoyed reading in high school and college. For the remainder of the ride to the restaurant, it felt almost like nothing was different. I even could imagine Mother sitting up front with him. When would it really start feeling strange? I wondered.

  The answer came to me after we had been seated at our table. As usual, people were gawking at us because of how identical we were and how identically dressed. For as long as I could remember, when we went to formal restaurants, especially places where we sat in plain sight of practically every patron, Mother was there to smile back at people or reply to comments made about us. She was always very proud of us. Not that Daddy wasn’t; he was just more subdued about it. He was that way now, and he was also nervous and a bit awkward. It was almost as if he hadn’t known us very long.

  “So what do you like?” he asked a few moments after we had our menus. He had ordered himself a Scotch and soda, and we had iced teas. Mother was right about the restaurant. It was the most expensive we had been to.

  “Do we like shrimp scampi?” Haylee asked me.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She folded her menu.

  I smiled at her and shook my head. She thought she was ordering for me, too. “I’ll have the veal osso buco,” I said.

  “We like that?” Haylee asked.

  “We never had it, but I know what it is and always wanted to try it,” I said.

  “Then I should.”

  “You don’t have to eat the same thing your sister does when you’re with me,” Daddy told her. “I never saw you as duplicates, even though that was a sin in our house.”

  And so it’s starting, I thought.

  “I continually tried to persuade your mother to let you become individuals, your own persons, but she had her theories and research.” He smiled, which took me by surprise. “It was like talking to a religious zealot who would keep referring to the Bible. I’m sorry,” he said, after the waiter took our orders. “Sorry I gave up.”

  “Is that the reason you had an affair?” I asked.

  He looked from Haylee to me, deciding how much to tell us, how grown-up and ready for such talk we were. “Not entirely, no. A man and a woman have needs, and getting married doesn’t change that. What it means is that you’re going to satisfy those needs with only one person. That’s being faithful, loving.”

  “Sex,” Haylee said, wanting to hear the word and strip away any euphemisms.

  Daddy looked like he was going to blush, but he took a deep breath and surprised us both by saying, “Yes, sex. I suspect you both know more about it already than I do.”

  Haylee laughed. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. I didn’t laugh.

  “Maybe you two are as old as you look,” he commented.

  Nothing could have pleased Haylee more. “Of course we are. We know what you mean. Because Mother wouldn’t have sex with you when you wanted to, you had an affair and then had to get a divorce, right?”

  He looked at me again to see if I was going to add anything, but I didn’t say a word. “Well, in a nutshell, yes, but nothing in life is ever that simple, Haylee,” he replied, stressing her name.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t have any trouble telling us apart, do you, Daddy?”

  “Not since you were very little. Of course not. Sometimes I spoke too soon, and she’d dump hot coals over my head. As I said, you’re two different people who just happen to share physical features in an extraordinary way. They say there’s a perfect duplicate for everyone in this world.”

  “You mean there are two more like us?” Haylee asked.

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Mine better not come around here,” Haylee declared, and Daddy laughed.

  It was the first laugh of the night, and it seemed to crack the sheet of ice between us. Our food came, and Daddy began to talk with more ease about his business, Cindy, and her children. He told us he had put aside all the money we would need for college and said he hoped we would attend two different schools.

  “You need the experience of meeting people without your sister hovering in the background. That way, people will see you for who you are faster,” he declared. “I know your mother doesn’t believe this, but if you come to agree with me, I promise I’ll fight for you.”

  “We have some time to decide,” I said. “Until things settle down, arguments will just make things harder for us.”

  He nodded. “Very true. You’re very wise, Kaylee.”

  Just like any time I received a compliment and Haylee didn’t, I looked at her quickly and caught the glint of anger in her eyes. “That’s what both of us think,” I said. “We’ve talked about it.”

  “Oh. Sure. Very good, Haylee. We’ll tread softly on the future.”

  The word future must have stirred Haylee’s visions of what this coming Friday would be like. She looked bored with anything else, except to say she enjoyed the choice I had made for dinner. That got Daddy talking about how good a cook Cindy was and how he had already gained five pounds. Before we had our dessert, he grew serious again and talked about the divorce agreement. He wanted to assure us that he would always be there for us, no matter what, and that we could always call him if we needed anything or if anything disturbed us. By anything, I knew he meant Mother.

  Afterward, on the ride home, he asked us questions about school again and what we envisioned ourselves becoming. More and more, perhaps because of Mother’s influence, I was thinking about doing something in psychology, perhaps child psychology. Haylee’s ambitions flowed from becoming a movie star to a model to a TV reporter. How she could be so mature when it came to sexual things but sound so much like a child when it came to everything else amazed me. Daddy did his best not to discourage her from anything, but when I told him about my ambitions, he was more attentive and promised he would look into what were the best schools for that field.

  Haylee fell into a bit of a sulk when he went on and on about it and practically leaped out of the car when we pulled into the driveway. He got out quickly and kissed us both good night, promising to arrange for another dinner soon.

  “You should call well in advance,” Haylee told him. “We’ve got a full calendar of social events.”

  “Oh, really? Well, that’s very good, Haylee.”

  Mother practically ripped the door off the hinges opening it. Frozen in place, we all looked at her.

  “Well, good night again, girls,” Daddy said.

  Haylee moved away from him quickly so he couldn’t kiss her again. He looked at me and then went to his car. I followed Haylee in, and Mother slammed the door.

  “I hope we don’t have to do that often,” Haylee said. “It was very uncomfortable for us to hear all
that crap about his new family.”

  Mother looked astounded but pleased. “Really? How stupid of him.”

  “I told him to call you way in advance if he wanted to take us to dinner again, because we have a very busy social calendar,” she continued. She was on a roll, and I stepped back, in awe of how well she was doing.

  “Yes, of course,” Mother said.

  “I mean, we don’t have to roll over and play dead because of what he’s doing, do we, Mother?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “We’ve talked it over, Kaylee and I. We won’t permit our classmates and others to pity us. We intend to be happy, maybe even happier. Just like you,” she added, like someone sealing a deal.

  “That’s very, very wise of you both. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.” She smiled. “My girls,” she said, and hugged us both. “We’ll all be just fine.”

  Haylee glanced at me with that look of self-satisfaction, a look that often made me feel sick inside.

  It was as if something ugly was being born within my very being, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  10

  I let Haylee take the lead to persuade Mother to let us have a small party at our house while she was at the Clarks’ dinner party. I wanted to be with Matt very much, so much, in fact, that I didn’t stop Haylee from telling lies about our party plans. Perhaps that was my biggest mistake, because once Haylee saw how easily she could get me to tolerate her little deceptions, it led to bigger and bigger ones and, eventually, the most tragic one.

  So in a real way, I had no one to blame more than myself for what she did. I made it possible by being so tolerant.

  Haylee went right to work setting the foundation for her deceits about our party. She talked Melanie Rosen and Toby Sue Daniels into lying to their parents about attending a party at our house. Of course, Haylee wanted no one but Jimmy and Matt to come, but she knew Mother would be suspicious of that. She had warned us about getting too serious with one boy too soon. Haylee presented it as a general party for a group of our mutual best friends. I wasn’t sure what Haylee was promising them, but both girls were excited and happy to participate in Haylee’s ruse. They assured us that they would have dates themselves and be out of their homes so that if Mother ever did check up, she’d be told by their parents that they had gone to our party.

  I told Matt the truth and saw that he wasn’t comfortable with it.

  “Why is it necessary?” he asked me at school on Wednesday, after Haylee had confirmed her plans. “Why couldn’t you two just have a party with us?”

  For me, it now became a question of how deeply I would go into our lives, into our relationship with our mother, her beliefs about us because we were identical twins, and how bitter she was about her and our father’s divorce. I wanted to be as truthful as I could be, but there were alarm bells sounding, too. I could easily frighten him off from having any sort of relationship with me, I thought. No one outside of our home had any idea of Mother’s theories about how we should be brought up and how we should conduct ourselves. How much could I tell him?

  “Right now, our mother is very sensitive to the idea of either of us having any sort of special boyfriend or relationship. She’s very sour about what’s happened between her and my father,” I offered as a rationale. “So unfortunately, we have to pretend we’re not with anyone special.”

  “Yeah. My aunt Wilma, my mother’s older sister, became that way right after her divorce.” He smiled. “I’m glad you said you have to pretend you’re not with anyone special.”

  “Very hard for me to do,” I said, and his smile deepened.

  “Friday can’t come fast enough.”

  With mixed feelings, I left him and went to class. I liked him too much not to feel bad about not telling the full truth about our mother and us. Perhaps I was wrong to worry and pay more attention to all that than Haylee did. She was better at ignoring things and absolutely happier because of it. Every once in a while, she would be on me again about being a worrywart.

  “Stop looking like you lost your two front teeth. You’re moping around too much. You’ll make Mother suspicious, and then we’ll really have trouble,” she said. Then she smiled and changed the topic. “I got a few others who will say they’ll be at our house. I’m telling her we have ten now.”

  “Ten? You’re involving too many people, Haylee. Someone’s sure to blab. Daddy used to say that two can keep a secret if one is dead.”

  “Right. And worrying brings wrinkles. You’re going to get gray hair before I do.” There was no stopping her now.

  The closer we got to Friday, the more excited she became. Now it was my turn to issue warnings about how to behave in front of Mother. I cautioned Haylee not to be too excited about the party, because that might make Mother suspicious more than any nervous look on my face would. She thought about it and agreed. Then she did a very clever thing—too clever, I thought. She was reaching into a well of darkness that I never knew she had access to.

  She began to pretend that she wasn’t sure we should have the party at all. I couldn’t believe it, but I was thinking that she might have gotten this clever tactic from our class reading of Othello. Right from the first pages, she was intrigued with Iago, the character who deceives and destroys Othello and his wife, Desdemona. He never comes right out and accuses anyone of anything, but he plants the seeds of Desdemona’s supposed adultery and lets Othello destroy himself worrying about it.

  Haylee began at breakfast Thursday morning. Mother had gone to her beauty salon and had her hair trimmed and styled. She really looked more beautiful than she had in a long time. The medium to long layers played around her shoulders and her face. The center part added long, flippy bangs. She was so happy with her look that she wouldn’t step out of her bedroom without wearing one of her nicer dresses or outfits coordinated with rings, bracelets, and necklaces and, just as we remembered her when we were younger, not without makeup, either.

  She told us once that she perfected her appearance not for the people she knew she would see but for the ones who surprised her. They would be more impressed and would talk about how together and organized a person she was even when caught completely unawares. “A beautiful woman is always on a stage,” she said, and assured us that we were beautiful.

  “We don’t know if we should go through with this party,” Haylee began. She hadn’t told me she would say anything like that, so I was surprised, but I knew not to look it.

  “What? Why?” Mother asked quickly. “Did your father hear of it and tell you that?”

  “Oh, no,” Haylee said quickly. “We wouldn’t tell him, either.”

  “So?”

  “It just seems wrong for us to be having fun while you’re going through so much. We’ve decided we can wait.”

  Mother looked at me and then back at her. Haylee looked so sincere. I thought if I didn’t know her, if I were a stranger or someone who hadn’t been with us for years, I would believe her, too.

  “I won’t have it,” Mother said firmly. “Whether he knows about it or not, I won’t have him turning our home into a funeral parlor, with the both of you sitting around mournfully while your friends enjoy being . . . being young.”

  “It’s all right, Mother,” Haylee continued, looking so unselfish it could bring strangers to tears. “Kaylee and I have decided we can just watch something on TV or play some board game while you’re out.”

  “Nonsense,” Mother said. “You’ve invited people. How would it look if you just canceled for no reason? Anyone with half a brain would blame it on the situation your father caused. The waves of pity will drown me out there. I won’t have it.”

  “Well, we didn’t think of that,” Haylee said, looking very thoughtful. She nodded. “Mother’s right, Kaylee. We wouldn’t want that, either, right?”

  I looked at her and then at Mother and shook my head. I felt as if Haylee had taken my hand and walked me out onto thin ice. Whether I wanted to be or not, I was now part of
her dishonesty. Ironically, Mother was right. Whatever one of us did the other would share, whether it was a compliment or a criticism. How could one of us do anything without people looking at the other? “Haylee-Kaylee, Kaylee-Haylee” would be hovering in the air above our heads whether we wanted it or not.

  “Then it’s settled,” Mother declared. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about canceling your party.”

  “Okay, Mother. It’s just that . . . well, to be honest, we’re not sure we’re planning the party right,” Haylee continued, now on a real roll. “Everyone orders in pizza. We hate doing what everyone else does, but we’re not sure what else we should do.”

  Mother thought a moment. “Well, let’s do something special for sure,” she said. “We can make a homemade Italian party for you. We’ll do a meat lasagna, that sausage-filled ravioli with marinara sauce, and an eggplant parmesan for those who don’t want to eat meat. We’ll get it all prepared ahead of time, so all you have to do is warm it up. The two of you can make a very good salad.

  “And I know what else,” she continued, shocking me with her enthusiasm. “I’ll pick up some tiramisu at the Italian deli this afternoon. We have enough soft drinks. It will be the best party any of your classmates ever had at someone’s house. I know the two of you and your friends will take care not to make a mess and will clean up before I come home.”

  “Oh, Mother, that’s too much for you to do just when you’re trying to get yourself settled again!” Haylee cried, practically in tears. “You have so much on your mind.”

  “Nonsense. I’m not going to let him disturb one hair on my head when it comes to making my girls happy,” she declared. “As soon as I bring you to school today, I’ll start on the party menu.”

  “You’ll be too exhausted to go out yourself, or you’ll be so tired you’ll have to come home early,” Haylee pursued. I couldn’t keep up with how quickly she could weave her fraud.

  “Absolutely not. In fact, this will give me more energy, and I’ll be the last to leave the Clarks’. No one will see me crawl into a hole like some mousy, beaten-down ex-wife,” she vowed. “I intend to have a very good time.”