I know I’m already biased against her, but what I can’t get out of my mind is that her sister, hertwin,had tried to kill him. She resembles Josie so closely in looks, could she also be like her in character?
I force myself to remember they’d grown up apart. Worry for Ace, and what it might mean for him, and also morbid curiosity after Josie’s death, had caused me to research her condition. There’s a genetic disposition to bipolar disorder, but it can betriggered by environmental factors, like a traumatic childhood. While Kelly had been kind enough, I knew Josie’s dad wasn’t part of the picture, and Kelly had worked long hours to keep food on their table. Josie wasn’t so much abused but definitely neglected. And the stress caused by the absence of a father figure could also have contributed.
Antoinette had been brought up in a different environment, although one I know nothing about. It could be that, even if she carries the gene or whatever it is that causes the condition, it’s been lying dormant for lack of external triggers. I’d have been happier if Pippa could have discovered if she’d ever been prescribed medication for it.
The phone call connects. I force myself to look bored, even though I’m listening to every word.
“Dad’s agreed I can meet you. Can you make it today?” Ace grows animated, nodding his head enthusiastically to whatever she has to say. “Yeah, the coffee shop on Main sounds good.” Another pause, then, he says, “I can be there in half an hour… Sure, I’m really looking forward to seeing you in person, too.”
Having ended the call, he looks at me. “We’re meeting at the coffee shop. Can you give me a ride?”
Delaying an argument, I simply raise my chin and utter, “Yeah.”
Twenty-nine minutes later, with Ace riding pillion, I pull up my Softail outside the only decent coffee shop in town. I walk into the building with my son. It’s after the lunch rush, and in that early afternoon lull. There aren’t many other patrons, so we’re spoiled for choice for an empty table. After placing our orders, I lead Ace over to one where I can sit facing the door.
“Er, Dad. I’m fine meeting her alone.”
Yeah, over my fucking dead body. But I keep my calm. “I’m interested to get to know her, too, kid. She’d have been my sister-in-law if your mom and I had married.”
His face suddenly falls, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Is this bringing back painful memories, Dad? Is that why you didn’t want me to meet her? Because it reminds you of what you lost?”
I place my hand over his, squeeze it gently, then lift my fingers away. “Nah. It’s been many years, and much water has flowed under that bridge.”
“But you never talk about Mom,” he states, quite truthfully. “I thought it was because it hurt you to remember.”
And he’s one hundred percent right, though not for the reason he thinks. I’m not pining over losing the love of my life. Josie was never that. But if it comforts him to think that’s the cause, then I’m not ready to disillusion him. Let him think he was born from a loving relationship, and that he was wanted and planned. Yet another reason to keep quiet about why and how his mother died.
Before I can say anything more, the bell above the door jangles, and my ex’s twin walks in. Again, she’s wearing clothes Josie wouldn’t have been seen dead in, a smart A-line skirt and heels, topped by a short-sleeved floral blouse in deference to the temperature outside.
She spies me first, her face tightening, then softening as her gaze lingers on the teenager sitting at my side. I remind myself it’s the first time she’s seen him in the flesh, though they probably exchanged photographs, as Ace immediately recognises her, rising from his chair.
I stand too, politely stretching my hand toward her. I open my mouth, but she gets in first.
Taking my hand, she grasps it quite firmly for a woman, like someone confident in her own flesh. “I’m so sorry for last night, Freak. I know I came on strong. I was just excited to have the chance to connect with family. I went about it the wrong way and at the wrong time. I should have waited until the morning.”
“Ace is my son. I needed to check out what you told me.” I don’t apologise. I’d acted as any concerned father would have. But I do remember my manners. “Sit.” I move to pull out the chair opposite. “I’ll get you a coffee. What would you like?”
As she mentions some frou-frou drink I have to struggle to remember, I raise my chin, then approach the counter to place and pay for her order. I keep an eye on our table at all times, and notice her and Ace embrace, then, a little awkwardly, sit down.
Returning to the table, with her choice, a fresh black coffee for me, and a new soda for Ace, I let the two of them talk, listening to them getting to know each other, but not butting in. This is their time, not mine, but you can be fucking sure, I’m making mental notes of everything.
“Do you remember my mom?” Ace asks, eagerly. “What was she like?”
Antoinette, or Toni as she’s introduced herself to my son, sighs, then explains, “As I wrote you, we were separated when we were just babies. I don’t even remember having a sister.”
“I don’t remember my mom,” Ace says glumly.
Both faces turn my way, waiting for me to fill in the gaps. Maybe I was wrong to insist on being present at this meeting. I take my time, struggling to find the words. I settle for, “Josie and you look very alike.” When they seem to want more, I delve deeper. “She was a lot of fun, had a great sense of humour.” And she was a good fuck, but, of course, I don’t mention that. Nor do I admit that while I’d been attracted to the fun-loving part of her, my view of her had soured when the other side of her began to emerge. And even more so when she seemed to fluctuate between moods with no explanation, and which I now knew was when she’d missed her meds.
“You weren’t married?”
Toni’s statement sounds like a question, so I answer. “No, didn’t get around to discussing it.” I wouldn’t have married her ifshe were the last woman on earth. Her shine had worn off pretty quickly, and if it wasn’t for the pregnancy, I wouldn’t have stayed around. “I was in the Army, away on tours a lot of the time. I know we were together for nearly a year and a half, but the actual time we spent together was probably no more than a quarter of that.” I decide to turn the tables on her. “What do you do, Toni? What kind of shit are you into?”
“Me?” She points to herself and laughs. “Nothing that would probably interest you, but I’m a librarian.” I fucking called it. Had to be something like that, given her style of clothes.
“I’m hurt,” I joke with her. “You saying I don’t read?” Her eyes, so similar to Josie’s, light up in a way her twin’s never did.
She chuckles. “You’ve got a total biker vibe. Guess that’s what Josie saw in you.” She leans forward to pick up her drink, giving me a sight of the tops of her ample breasts peeking out almost seductively from that sedate blouse. For some reason, it looks damn sexy.
