The Unknown Sister Read online

The waiter gave her a menu. “I must have mistaken you for someone else. Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute for your orders.”

  “Wait!” Catherine called.

  “Yes?”

  “You really thought I’d been here before?”

  He hesitated, his eyes flicking to Jack.

  “Please, Steve. This is important.”

  “Yeah. Maybe two, three weeks ago, I waited on this couple for dinner. It isn’t often you see a woman with such beautiful hair and—well, a woman as good-looking as you. You don’t happen to have an identical twin sister, do you?”

  This was the second time in one day!

  She took a deep breath. “The man she was with—was he, by any chance, tall?”

  “As a matter of fact, he was.”

  “Did he have dark brown hair and blue eyes?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “That sounds like him. Strong build, mid-thirties, expensive suit.”

  It sounded exactly like the stranger!

  “Steve—I’m ready to order. I’ll have the filet, well done, plus a baked potato and tossed salad with vinegar and oil dressing.”

  Jack said, “I’ll have the same, but make mine medium rare.”

  The waiter took their menus. When he was out of earshot, Jack turned to Catherine.

  “I thought our new friend Steve was just coming on to you.”

  “So did I. At first,” she added quietly. “Jack? The strangest thing happened to me at the speedway today.” Needing to talk about it, she told him the details. “I didn’t know what to make of it until the waiter mistook me for her, too.”

  “That’s pretty weird, all right. Why didn’t you ask the man at the track more questions?”

  Warmth filled her cheeks. “I would have liked to, but it was an awkward moment. He was staring at me with such distaste. Besides, I was late for an important appointment.”

  “Too bad you didn’t stay long enough to learn the last name of your double. You might have been able to look her up.” He sat back in his chair.

  “Maybe the waiter remembers her name. I’ll ask.”

  “No! Please don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not important.”

  “Maybe not, but you have to admit it’s interesting. If there’s another woman who looks identical to you living in Portland, I think it would be fun to meet her.”

  “I disagree.”

  “What are you scared of?”

  “I don’t know. It’s one thing to bear a superficial resemblance to someone else. But to actually pass for another person? I think that’s spooky. Like nature made a mistake or something. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

  “I’m sure Steve was exaggerating.”

  “You’re probably right. Still, after my experience with the stranger today… Promise me you won’t say anything to our waiter.”

  He raised both hands. “All right. I won’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  After dinner, Steve brought the bill. Catherine took the envelope with Jack’s name on it out of her purse. Inside was the money Melanie had given her to pay for their meal.

  Jack saw Melanie’s writing and removed it from her hands. “It was the thought that counted. I’m taking care of this.” He pulled out his credit card and placed it on the tray.

  As Steve walked off, Jack smiled mysteriously, folded the envelope and put it in his pocket. “When Melanie gets home, she’ll receive her reward.”

  Catherine reflected on the way her brother’s eyes ignited whenever his girlfriend’s name came up in conversation. That was the way it should be when someone had fallen in love.

  It was hard not to compare his look of happiness to the frigid eyes of the stranger at the speedway. For some reason, the incident refused to leave her mind.

  She couldn’t figure out why she felt such a strong attraction to him, when the nature of her business meant she worked around a lot of appealing men. The only trouble was, so far none of them had made the same kind of impact.

  AFTER FINISHING AN INTERVIEW with a new participant in the twins study, David grabbed his briefcase and left the office on a run. The decision he’d made two years ago—to step down as CEO of the stock-trading company he owned—had been the right one. Since that time, he’d been able to oversee the growth of the institute he’d created.

  With Bob Ames successfully managing the trading company that had made David a fortune by his late twenties, he’d been freed to do what he considered his life’s work.

  It pleased him that the institute’s activities had expanded to the point that he needed a larger structure. As soon as he and Mitch were finished with their doctor’s appointment, he planned to begin the process of building a new place; in fact, he had an appointment with the architect he’d chosen. Not since the day he realized his trading company was taking off beyond all expectations had he felt this kind of anticipation.

  Mitch had grown less enchanted with the idea of seeing a psychiatrist, but David’s good mood refused to be dampened—particularly since he was expecting his younger brother to produce results in finding that elusive MG. Sooner or later Mitch would locate the right garage. Maybe it would be today.

  An intangible excitement suffused his body at the thought of meeting her again. She might look like Shannon, but in his gut he knew there would be no disappointment this time. Lord. Her smile alone had electrified him.

  He met Mitch in the psychiatrist’s waiting room, and they were ushered in almost immediately. Introductions followed, and David found himself thinking about Shannon White’s double again.

  The chemistry had been there for her, too; he was sure of it. He’d heard her breath catch. He was still mesmerized by the charge that lit up her eyes as she gazed at him. She liked what she saw. That kind of attraction couldn’t be feigned.

  “I’m glad you both came in,” Dr. Morton was saying. “David has already given me a little history about your mother over the phone, Mitch.”

  The mention of his name brought David to the present with a jerk. Dr. Morton had been in conversation with Mitch for several minutes, but David’s thoughts had been elsewhere—back at the speedway.

  “Before I can help you, I need to know something first. Is racing a hobby for you, or a career?”

  David waited to hear his brother’s answer to that question. He’d been wondering, too.

  “It’s my favorite hobby to date.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “About twelve years ago, my brother started up a company for day trading on the stock market.”

  Dr. Morton flashed David a congratulatory smile. “I imagine everyone in the northwest has heard of its success.”

  David nodded his thanks.

  “After college, David hired me to work for him,” Mitch informed him.

  “Are you doing well?”

  “Very.”

  “So you split your time between your work and your hobby.”

  “That’s about it.”

  “Tell me some of your future goals.”

  “I’d like to learn to fly.”

  “Will that be in addition to racing?”

  “No. I’ve been thinking about finishing out this season, then starting flying lessons next spring.”

  “What about marriage, children?”

  “Well, yeah. Some day.”

  The doctor eyed David, then Mitch. “Knowing what I do of your mother’s history, the loss of your twin brother, I’m afraid I can’t be of much help when it’s your mother who needs therapy. But the fact that you made an appointment with me shows you’re both sensitive to her anxiety.

  “There is one thing I can suggest. Call a family council. The three of you need to sit down and talk about the future, like we’re doing now. When you let her in on your short-and long-term plans, give her reassurance that you love her and always intend to watch out for her.

  “Of course she’ll vent. But that’s the whole point. She needs to do it out in the o
pen, in front of you both, so she can’t manipulate one of you behind the other’s back. Nothing’s going to take away her fear, but doing this could relieve some of the stress that’s been building. Try it. Then let’s have another session to discuss how it went.”

  “We’ll follow your advice and get back to you, Doctor,” David assured him.

  “Good. Now, Mitch—if you don’t mind waiting outside, I’d like a word with your brother.”

  He shot David a puzzled glance as he got to his feet. “Sure.”

  Curious, David asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I sensed there was something more you needed to discuss.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t given the bulk of your money and time to create an institute like yours solely to help your mother rid herself of guilt. I’m not doubting your love for her, but there has to be something else. Something that’s driving you to make everything right for your family.

  “You do the same thing for your brother. He has a lucrative job because of you. You fund his hobbies. No sacrifice is too great. Why is that, David? You’re a good-looking, thirty-five-year-old single male. Men ten years younger than you have already married and started families of their own.”

  The doctor tapped his fingers on the desk. “Why not think about what I’ve said? Maybe by the next time we meet, you’ll have sorted some of this through. That’s all for now. You can tell Mitch to come in. I’d like to chat alone with him for a few minutes.”

  David made no move to get up. “I’m not gay, in case you thought I might be feeling guilt on that score.”

  “Guilt, warranted or not, can come from most any source.”

  “You think I’m feeling guilty?”

  “I don’t know.” Dr. Morton cocked his head.

  “How old were you when your brother died?”

  “Nine.”

  “And Mitch was two months, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember anything about it?”

  “Yes. In the middle of the night I heard one of the twins crying. The nursery was next to my bedroom. I loved to play with them, so I got up. I thought maybe one of them had lost his bottle. Michael was making the fuss, but he’d finished his.

  “I remember taking hold of his fingers, and he stopped crying. There was a little stuffed cow Mother kept on the dresser. I got it down and put it by his hands. Then I went back to bed.

  “Early in the morning I heard her cry out for my father. She kept screaming that Michael wasn’t breathing. The—” He had to clear his throat. “The agony in her voice was the most awful sound I’ve ever heard.”

  Tears sprang to his eyes as remembered pain came flooding back. “I heard Mitch start to cry, so I got out of bed and ran to the nursery to find out what was going on.

  “She was holding Michael’s limp body in her arms. She said, ‘He’s dead! My baby’s dead!’ My father was frantic. He took the baby and gave it CPR, but Michael didn’t revive.

  “The emergency medical technicians came. They couldn’t find anything wrong with the baby. There…there was an autopsy. The pathologist said Michael had just stopped breathing and died. He said those things happened sometimes. Only God knew why.”

  David couldn’t talk anymore. Great heaving sobs came out of him. He buried his face in his hands.

  “But you thought you knew why, didn’t you, David?”

  David’s palms had gone clammy. “Yes,” he whispered. “If I hadn’t given Michael the cow…”

  “Twenty-six years is a long time to carry around a guilty secret. Too long for an innocent nine-year-old whose loving actions had nothing to do with his brother’s death.

  “Like a physician, you’ve been trying to make everyone better, to fix things. Because you believe you are responsible for depriving the family of its son and brother. It’s not a rational belief but it’s stayed with you all these years.”

  Dr. Morton continued to speak calmly and quietly. “Unfortunately it’s a fact that a SIDS death always leaves behind unanswered questions and fears. There’s a big one in your mind. You’re unconsciously afraid that if you ever tried to come to someone’s rescue again, you might do it wrong and make another unforgivable mistake.

  “Marriage has represented too great a risk for you. Yet the irony is that you’re the owner of a multimillion-dollar company that does day trading in the stock market, one of the riskiest businesses there is.

  “As I said, you’ve been trying to heal your family—like a physician. But in your case, David, the old admonition, physician, heal thyself, wouldn’t be such a bad idea, would it?”

  Unable to sit still, David shot to his feet. These were probably the most illuminating fifteen minutes he’d lived through since Michael’s death. He took a shuddering breath, then eyed the doctor soberly. “Thank you.” He grinned weakly. “To think I made this appointment to help Mitch and my mother.”

  The other man smiled. “Let’s talk about your mother for a minute. Obviously her burden’s been heavy. She carried the babies nine months. She was supposed to be the wonderful mother who would do anything to keep her child safe. But Michael wasn’t safe—he died. Her role in the marriage was to be a good wife and mother. But in her eyes she failed at both.

  “Likewise, your father felt helpless. He was the family’s protector. Yet he couldn’t bring Michael back to life. Who knows if some lingering sense of guilt was partly to blame for his heart attack?”

  David’s amazement at the doctor’s insight left him speechless.

  “When the three of you have that family council, you might talk over these things with your mother if you feel comfortable enough. It’ll surprise her to learn she’s not the only one who’s suffered all these years because of Michael’s death.

  “Talking together honestly could bring about a new understanding and closeness. Depending on her reaction, you could suggest she get professional help.”

  David’s mind reeled from the information he was only beginning to process. “I can’t tell you what this appointment has meant to me.” He shook the doctor’s hand.

  Dr. Morton smiled warmly. “I’m glad you feel that way. Go ahead and send in your brother. Is it all right if I share what we’ve talked about with him? It might help him.”

  “Of course,” David murmured before leaving the office.

  “How come he wants to see me?” Mitch asked defensively when David told him the doctor was waiting.

  “Why don’t you go in and find out? I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

  A half hour later, David watched his brother leave the doctor’s office. He walked toward the car as if he were in a trance. When he got in and they drove off, there was total silence coming from Mitch’s side.

  David could relate. He’d had some time alone to think about what had been discussed.

  “Mom needs a lot of help!” Mitch blurted at last.

  “We all do, Mitch.”

  His brother’s head was lowered. He kept nodding. David suspected he’d been crying.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Hell, no! Apparently I’ve been feeling guilty because I survived and Michael didn’t. So I’ve spent my life wondering how afraid I am of death. He says that every time I get into a race car or an airplane, it’s a counterphobic reaction—that’s what he called it. An attempt to place myself in a death-defying position.”

  “Why?”

  “To prove I’m not afraid.”

  David shook his head. “I had no idea. I thought it was because you’d been deprived of your twin, and no other relationship had satisfied you. I believed that in your restless search, you turned to one hobby after another.”

  “Yeah. He brought that up, too.” After a slight hesitation, he murmured, “I didn’t know about the cow.”

  “I didn’t know you felt guilty about surviving.”

  “We’re both a mess, aren’t we?” He laughed through his tears before raising his head.


  “You can say that again. Thank God we’ve got each other!”

  “Amen,” Mitch muttered. “But can you picture Mother lasting five minutes when she hears what we’ve got to say? You know she’ll fly out of the room and go to bed with a migraine.”

  “Then we’ll lock the doors and have her medicine on hand.”

  His brother let out a frustrated sound. “You’re serious!”

  “I didn’t pay the doctor two hundred dollars to ignore his advice.”

  “I’ll write you a check for my half.”

  “Good. How’s Sunday afternoon for our talk with her?”

  “Make that a week from Sunday. I have to be in Eugene next weekend for a race.”

  “I’ll get away to watch you.” He was hoping the woman he’d been looking for would be in the stands. “In the meantime, do you want me to drop you somewhere, or shall I take you back to work?”

  “Why don’t we make the rounds of a few more garages working on older-model MGs? Who knows? Today we might learn the name of your mystery woman.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more, but I’m afraid I have an important appointment. Want to come with me?”

  “Depends.”

  “Remember the old Crompton warehouse that was renovated last year?”

  “You mean the eyesore some architect turned into that trendy new complex? Yeah. I had a drink with the pit crew in the basement a couple of days ago. A bar called the Pub. The whole place is incredible.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I had dinner there recently, and I liked what I saw so much, I found out the name of the firm that worked on it. I want Casey & Associates to design a new complex to house the institute.”

  “Casey? I wonder if that’s any relation to Jack Casey.”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. I have my first meeting with the architect in twenty minutes.”

  Mitch whistled. “That could be a marathon event. You’d better take me back home. I’ll get my car and try to track down the MG on my lunch hour.”

  “I’m counting on you, Mitch.”

  “Yeah, well, I owe you.”

  David smiled at him. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I thought you would.”

  After letting Mitch out in front of his apartment building, David headed for the freeway. As he drove, David’s secretary called on his car phone to inform him that the architect he was supposed to meet had gotten tied up with a problem at a new building. Could David join him at the site?