The Crossroads Duet

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “Hello,” I said, trying to control the shakiness in my voice. I turned away from AJ, pressing my hip into the counter, leaning all my weight into it until it pinched my side.

  Lane’s voice swept over me. “Bess, I know I said you should call me only if you wanted, but I couldn’t wait. I know I messed up, and I need your forgiveness. Please?”

  From the other side of the room, AJ shouted, “What the hell is this expensive piece of shit? You on the job, Bess? I didn’t make enough money for you? I said, what the hell is this? Tell me now!”

  Frozen, I couldn’t make myself turn around; the countertop would have to hold me. I was all limbs and no spine.

  “What was that? Who is that? Are you okay? Bess!” I heard coming from the phone, but I couldn’t answer.

  I jerked as something sharp hit my head and fell to the floor. It was the Tiffany’s box. Stunned and disbelieving, I rubbed the spot where it nicked me, unable to move other than lifting my hand to comfort myself.

  “Bess, hang up the damn phone and turn around and answer me!” AJ demanded.

  I closed my eyes as Brooks went crazy, barking louder than I’d ever heard him as AJ’s footsteps pounded toward me. My world spun all around me; the voice on the phone sounded so far away.

  I felt it slipping from my hand, and then everything went black.

  Bess

  Something wet was on my forehead, but my arm didn’t feel strong enough to reach up and touch it. Maybe it was Brooks licking me? No, it didn’t feel like that.

  I heard a few hushed voices.

  “It doesn’t appear as though she hit her head, so it’s probably more a reaction to stress. She’ll come out of it. Her pulse is steady and her heartbeat sounds good.”

  “Are you sure?” a deeper voice asked. “Maybe we should be more careful and take her to the hospital in the city.”

  “No, she’ll be fine. Let her rest on the couch and she’ll come to.”

  The voices all sounded garbled, as if they were underwater. Or maybe I was underwater? Was that why my forehead was wet?

  I concentrated on lifting my hand and it worked. Bringing it to my forehead, I felt a towel or something soft there. It was cool and wet. I patted it in place, making sure it stayed put, and heard all the sounds in the room go quiet.

  “Bess?” the first voice said. It sounded like Doc. I’d just seen him, so I would know.

  “Bess?” he said again.

  I think I nodded my head, or at least I was trying to. Prying one eye open, I tried to turn my head to the direction the voice was coming from.

  I squinted and saw a blurry Doc, May from work, and someone else who looked like Lane, but he had short hair. A buzz cut.

  When did he do that? Where am I? How did Lane get here from Florida? What happened?

  And then I remembered. The call. AJ. Lane yelling on the other end of the phone.

  I shut my eye and attempted to open both together. It took two attempts, but I did it. Taking in my surroundings, I noticed it was still dark out. I wondered if it was the same night or a night or two later.

  I swallowed. “Doc?” My voice was broken and raspy.

  “Bess, honey. Don’t strain.”

  “What happened to me? How long have I been like this?” I said while patting my hand along my body, making sure I was still all there. “Where’s Brooks? Forget me,” I added, straining to look around the room.

  “He’s in your bedroom. He was pacing and nervous while you were unconscious, and he seemed to settle down back there.”

  “Get him.” I managed to say it firmly, and Lane with short hair turned and walked away.

  Doc frowned down at me. “As for you, I think you had a panic attack and passed out. You sort of came to shortly after, but fell into a deep sleep right away. Probably stress-induced.”

  I took a shuddering breath and pressed my hand to my stomach. “How long ago was that?”

  “Well, AJ called Shirley about two and a half hours ago as he was peeling down your driveway, and said you were passed out. He was having some kind of fit himself, so Shirley decided to go after AJ and called May to take care of you. May found you about fifteen minutes after AJ called. That’s when you woke for a moment.” Doc came close and bent down, taking my pulse.

  Brooks ran to me after being released and nearly knocked Doc out of the way, sticking his snout right in my face and giving me his own snuffling once-over.

  In the soft light coming from the lamp, I reassured my dog as I watched Lane continue to stay back. He was hesitant, so unlike his normal direct self.

  “Lane?” It came out all wrong, hoarse, unsteady, questioning.

  He stepped closer and shook his head. “No, I’m Jake. His brother, Jake Wrigley.”

  When I tried to frown, he explained.

  “His twin brother. Identical. I can see he doesn’t talk about me much . . . I get it. But he called me in an absolute panic when you went silent on the phone. He said there was screaming and fighting in the background, and he was beyond worried. I’ve never heard him yell like that. He begged me to come here.”

  “You’re his twin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where do you live?” It was a stupid question, but it came out.

  “Pittsburgh.”

  “Doc, can I sit up?” I asked.

  Doc put his arm around my back and propped me up against the back of the couch. Brooks didn’t go far, staying put right at my feet on his hind paws, staring down anyone who came close.

  “Do you feel light-headed?” Doc asked.

  “No,” I said, trying to sound firm as I rested my hand on the top of Brooks’s head.

  “What happened, Bess?” May asked, coming to sit down next to me.

  I told them what I remembered about AJ showing up and flipping out, demanding my attention and feelings.

  “That was before he saw the necklace,” I explained.

  Jake frowned at me. “What necklace?”

  I pointed toward the counter where it had been. “Lane sent me this necklace today. A heart. It was why he was on the phone, why he called. To see if I received it.”

  I tried to stand up and my robe gaped open. Oh my God, I was still in my robe. Had anyone seen my body?

  “Not right now, missy,” Doc said, settling me back into the couch.

  “But I have to find the necklace and the note . . . and get dressed.”

  “There’s nothing there, Bess,” May said. “I checked all around the room for clues as to what happened when I got here. Nothing was out of place other than the vase and sand by the mantel. I cleaned it up.”

  “Wait!” I called out. “What did you do with the sand?” Tears started to flow at the thought of losing that memento of my time with Lane.

  “It’s in the garbage.”

  “Get it out!” I yelled with as much strength as I could.

  “Bess, darling, you’ve had a rough day. Lots of stress. Let’s just try to stay calm now,” Doc said in a soothing voice.

  Calm?

  “There was a letter? Where is it?” I leaned forward. “And a necklace?” I tried to stand again, but May held me back as I freaked out, mumbling to myself.

  May was running her hand up and down my back when Jake interrupted, “Hey, Doc, maybe something to calm her nerves? A Xanax?”

  “No!” May and Doc shouted at the same time.

  “I can’t take that,” I said quietly, absently rubbing the leather collar around Brooks’s neck.

  “Okay, suit yourself,” Jake said with a shrug. “Listen, my brother is on his way. He’ll be here soon, and I’m sure he’ll solve all this. He’s very good at cleaning up messes.”

  I nodded and said, “Really? He’s coming here?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said, then edged toward the door. “I gotta go. Take care, Bess.”

  Watching him leave, I could have sworn I saw something deep and tormented behind his blue eyes—just like in Lane’s.

  Lane

  Landing a
t the smaller regional airport by charter plane put me at least an hour closer to Bess. I jumped out of my seat, grabbed my bag, and ran to a car my assistant had ordered to be waiting for me and instructed the driver to “Haul ass all the way to the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania.”

  I hated not being in control, let alone stuck in the backseat of a ridiculously posh car, but this was the only way I was going to make it alive to the mountains. It was still black as night out, to say nothing of my ratcheted nerves, pulsing through my entire system.

  As soon as I sat down, I called Jake.

  “Lane, what the fuck?”

  This is how he answered the phone for me.

  “What the fuck to you?”

  “I sped all the way up to Buttfuck, Pennsylvania, to check on your piece of ass in distress, and at first I thought maybe I slept with her years ago. She looked so damn familiar, I couldn’t stop staring. That country doc probably thought I was mental.”

  “Jake, don’t go there now,” I warned him. I knew where he was heading and I wasn’t in the mood.

  “Oh, I will,” he shot back.

  Fuck.

  My hair felt damp from sweat. I pulled my leather jacket and sweater off, leaving me in just a plain white T-shirt.

  “Lane, do you want to tell me what you’re doing messing around with the girl who almost died in my gym years ago? I may not have showed up until you destroyed my chance at pussy for the night and she was being loaded into an ambulance, but her face hasn’t changed. Jesus Christ, can’t you get laid in Miami?”

  “She doesn’t remember that night.”

  “What? You’re bullshitting me.”

  “No.” I cracked the window open, still feeling incredibly hot.

  “And you haven’t told her?”

  I began to wonder if I could ever tell her, let her in on the fact I was there to witness that piece of her personal history. Especially now, it felt beyond the statute of limitations. She probably didn’t even want to remember that night. I’d tried to forget it so many times myself.

  Yet, it still haunted my thoughts. No longer in the limo, my thoughts were back in the gym.

  After I’d realized the whole place assumed I was Jake—he’d been copying my longer hairstyle since he finished playing college ball—I’d decided to play the role. I hadn’t been happy about it, but I’d done it.

  With Bess out cold on my mat, I’d pretended to be busy taking vitals when her eyes opened and looked straight into mine, dazed and confused.

  “Bess, come on, we got to get out of here. Get you home,” the friend said, trying to lift Bess up.

  “All right, everyone, stay focused with Lexie while I take care of this,” I said out loud over the DJ, playing the part of Jake, and began to help Bess over to the side of the room. She’d barely come awake, her palms sweaty, face pale, eyes out of focus. The other girl and I semi-carried her out of the yoga room and to a bench, where she slumped over once again, becoming unresponsive.

  I grabbed the friend and demanded, “What the hell did she take?” She looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Don’t fucking clam up on me now. Your friend needs help,” I said, shaking her shoulder a bit.

  “I don’t know for sure, she parties pretty hard,” was all she said, turning her own glassy brown eyes the other way while Jimmy or Timmy or whatever the fuck his name was stood nearby and called 911.

  “Why the hell would she come to yoga like this? Unless she’s so addicted she can’t go anywhere without being like this? And what kind of friend are you to bring her like this?” I crowded the other girl while I berated her, who I’d learned was named Camper.

  Pacing the floor, my bare feet sinking into the plastic bullshit material, I waited for Camper to answer me.

  Quietly she said, “Well, she’s always like this, but I didn’t ever think it was a problem.” Then she ran out of there, not even bothering to grab her shoes, flying by the paramedics running in.

  The EMTs were annoyed. You could tell they thought Bess was another college girl who couldn’t handle her alcohol or whatever. They started taking her vitals, placing a neck brace on her small form, and sliding her on to a portable gurney. One was on the phone, calling ahead, “Yeah, gonna need a stomach pump, charcoal. Out cold, slowing pulse, but did come to for a minute or so. Dumb friends moved her from her original place.”

  I was just trying to do what I thought was right, but I wasn’t Jake, and I didn’t have the credentials to run a gym.

  “Hey, you, do you know her name? Or what she took?” the guy yelled at me.

  I shook my head. “Bess. That’s all I know. That was her friend hightailing it out of here when you showed up.”

  We were causing a scene by now, a few patrons coming over to check out who was passed out.

  “A lot of help you are,” the EMT said to me before going back to his call.

  And then they were wheeling her out as fast as they ran in when Jake showed up. Apparently, the guy who called 911 called him afterward—we couldn’t fool that smart dude.

  We ran after the paramedics, following them outside, my bare feet pounding the cold concrete.

  “Goddamn, Lane. What the fuck?” he scolded me, stopping to watch Bess being lifted into the back of the ambulance.

  “Me? What the fuck?”

  “Yeah, you!” he yelled back.

  We hadn’t even noticed the ambulance turn its lights on until the siren alerted us to it leaving.

  “Fuck! Fuck you! You just let them go without even riding with that girl,” I berated Jake. “She’s in there all alone and you’re mad at me?” I went on, stomping back to the gym to get my shoes and shit.

  As the two of us walked back inside, Lexie peeked her head out of the yoga room and looked like she was seeing double. Because she was. Apparently she didn’t know Jake was a twin. An identical one.

  And I’d become so consumed with exacting revenge on Jake for a lifetime of fixing shit that I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead I’d fucked Lexie.

  My trip down memory lane was interrupted by Jake yelling at me.

  “Lane! While you’re at it, explain to me how she doesn’t know you have a twin brother. That’s my fucking play, if you recall.”

  Yeah, I know.

  “Well, you also know I’m very good at keeping secrets, bro. Now, can you fucking tell me if she’s okay?”

  “The girl is fine, and a fine piece of raw meat too, if you ask me. But she’s fine. Had some sort of panic attack and was making a big deal about a necklace and a letter you sent being missing.”

  “What? Missing?”

  It’s worth a small fortune.

  “Gone. Some dude was harassing her and pitched a fit, causing her to black out from stress, and I guess he left with the necklace.”

  I rubbed my chest. My heart hurt. My head ached.

  “Jesus Christ,” I said. “Where the fuck are you now?”

  “On my way home, brother. I can’t stay around all day and clean up your mess while you screw some chick who nearly croaked on drugs during yoga, and you’re pledging your undying love or some shit to her by snail mail.”

  “Jake! You owe me and you know it.”

  “Well, when you want to come clean to the little lady, let me know.”

  “Yeah, come clean. Is that what you really want?” I put the window back up, the vibration of the wind making my already pounding head worse.

  “Do whatever the fuck you need to do, Lane. ’Bye.”

  I slammed my phone on the seat next to me and looked out the window. As pastures lined with white fences zipped past, I prayed I could keep all my emotions contained on this trip. I didn’t have the time or patience for nightmares right now.

  The car turned around and descended the driveway in the darkness, I watched the red brake lights pulling away, steadying myself before I entered Bess’s little house. The last time I’d been there hadn’t exactly ended spectacularly.

  As I turned toward the door, it opened, floodin
g the porch with light, and I made out the silhouette of a man walking out carrying a medical bag.

  He looked at me in the haze of the floodlight and made his way over. “Hi, I’m Doc Riley. You must be Lane. We met your brother, Jake, earlier,” he said while extending his hand.

  I shook his hand and said, “I am. Thanks for everything. I’m anxious to see Bess, but what do you think happened?”

  “Panic attack. Stress. An old friend got her worked up. She can tell you the rest herself. She’s laying down inside.”

  “Thanks,” I said and walked to the door, holding my breath.

  Slowly peeking in the door, unsure of what was behind it, I whispered, “Bess,” in case she was sleeping.

  A middle-aged woman greeted me. “Hello, Mr. Wrigley. I’m May. I also work at the WildFlower, so I’ve seen you there,” she said with a soft and sweet smile.

  “Hi, May,” I said before turning toward the couch. Bess was curled up in the fetal position, Brooks at her feet.

  “Hi,” I barely croaked out.

  “Hey,” she said back to me, her voice thin and worn.

  I approached with caution, unsure of what to say. Behind me, I heard May doing something in the kitchen.

  “You didn’t have to come,” Bess said when I got close and slid down on the floor by where her head rested on the end of the couch.

  “I shouldn’t have ever left.”

  She didn’t know the double meaning behind those words, but I felt my regret deep in my bones, a familiar but unwelcome ache.

  “I was worried about you,” she answered, not moving a muscle.

  “Well, I was worried about you.”

  Both times.

  With an unsteady hand, I reached out and rubbed her cheek, smoothing her hair back as I took in her pale skin and dark eyes. Even disheveled in a robe, she looked beautiful.

  “I’m okay. I guess I passed out. That’s what Doc said.”

  Not moving my hand from the side of her neck, my thumb caressing her neck where her pulse fluttered. “What happened, Bess?”

  She looked toward the floor. “It was nothing.”

  Using my thumb, I tilted her chin so we were face-to-face. “It wasn’t nothing. I heard screaming and you passed out. That’s something. Now, tell me what happened.”