“You look so much like him. Even your voices sound alike. But your hair used to be longer than his, so I guess nobody ever mixed you up.”
“We both had long hair when we were kids.” He smiled a little, enjoying the memory. “So you see, people confused us all the time. Especially our teachers. Of course, we drove them crazy on purpose. Twins get to play all kinds of games in school.”
Lexie drew her knees up, a child keen with interest. “What about your mom? Could she tell you apart?”
“Yeah, she knew who was who.” And she’d left both of them behind. “Did your dad mention her?”
Lexie nodded. “He said that the man she was going to marry was a jerk, so you guys stayed with your grandma instead of going with your mom when she moved.”
Nick glanced up at the ceiling. That wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was a hell of a lot better than saying their mom had abandoned them. “Our grandma was a great lady.”
“Do you have any pictures of her?” she asked, scooting forward a little.
“Sure. I’ve got a box of old photos. There’s some of your dad and me when we were kids, too.”
Her eyes were still watery, but she smiled. “Can we look through them later?”
“You bet.” Nick knew Grant had left home without any childhood mementos, so Nick had saved pictures and report cards and scraps of paper with adolescent notes scribbled on them. Just in case, he’d always told himself. Just in case Grant stopped being ashamed of who they were and where they’d come from.
Lexie lowered her head. “I wish people didn’t have to die. I miss Daddy so much.”
“I know, baby. Me, too.”
She looked up, her voice quavering. “Do you ever think about the boys who killed him?”
A blast of pain exploded in Nick’s chest. When the bullet had struck Grant, he’d fallen, too. He’d dropped to his knees to cradle his twin. “Sometimes.”
“Do you still remember what they look like?”
“Yes.” He would never forget their faces, teenagers who were monsters deep inside. “I gave the police a description.” And he’d spent hours paging through mug shots, studying gangbangers, murders, drug addicts and thieves. “They’ll get caught someday.”
She adjusted the blanket. “I hope so. It isn’t fair that they got away.”
He frowned, the impact of her words constricting his heart. “I know.” If only he could go back in time, if only there was a way to change what he’d done that night. He reached for Lexie’s hand, skimming her fingers with his.
But there was nothing Nick could do but fulfill the promise he’d made to Grant. His brother was gone, and Lexie needed a father.
Three
At nine that evening the wind blew furiously, but inside Nick’s house the air was calm and warm. An orangeand-gold flame danced in the fireplace, scenting the living room with a woodsy aroma.
Lexie was perched on the edge of the sofa in youthful anticipation, waiting for Nick. Elaina sat next to her, watching Lexie through the corner of her eye. She hadn’t realized how important Grant’s deceased relatives would be to her daughter.
Grant hadn’t liked talking about his childhood, and Elaina had never pressed the issue. She preferred not to dwell on her childhood, either. And most of her relatives were still alive.
“Here it is.” Nick entered the room carrying a card board box. He placed it on the coffee table, and Lexie got up and knelt on the floor. Elaina leaned in, too. She couldn’t help being curious about her husband’s past, about all the things he didn’t like to talk about. But then his family had been struggling-to-survive poor, and Grant had valued the finer things in life.
“I meant to put all of this stuff in photo albums,” Nick said, removing three vinyl-covered albums. “But I never got around to it.” Shoving them aside, he grabbed a stack of loose photos. “Everything’s kind of mixed up. We’ll just have to sort through it.”
“I don’t mind.” Lexie lifted the picture on top. “Oh. Wow. It’s you and Daddy, isn’t it?”
He rested his chin on the child’s narrow shoulder. “Yep. That’s us. Holey jeans and all.”
“Who’s who?”
He chuckled. “Hell if I know.“
“Come on, Uncle Nick.” Lexie brought the picture closer. “You have to know.“
“Maybe, but I’m not telling.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “Then we’ll figure it out. Won’t we, Mom?” She handed the photo to Elaina. The teasing banter between uncle and niece surprised her, and so did the snapshot.
Two adolescent boys mugged for the camera, straight black hair falling to their shoulders. Their plaid shirts were frayed, their jeans torn in the same spot, as if they’d skinned the same knee. Elaina examined each face, each identical feature, and when she compared their smiles, she knew. The difference was subtle, barely there, but she still knew. Nick was on the left, his grin just a little more crooked.
“I can’t tell,” she said, unable to admit the truth. She didn’t want Nick to know she had studied him so closely. Besides, it should have been Grant’s boyish smile that struck familiarity, not Nick’s.
Lexie peered at the photograph again, and Nick flashed the giveaway grin. “Your dad’s the cute one,” he told his niece.
They were both heartbreakers, Elaina thought. Lean, lanky boys standing in front of a tree they had probably climbed a thousand times.
“Look at this, Mom.”
The next snapshot made Elaina’s heart thump. It was
Grant posing during his early college days. She could see the California campus behind him. The university where they’d met just a few years later.
Nick glanced up, and the moment turned strangely quiet. Firelight played upon his features, making his cheekbones more prominent, his skin a liquid shade of bronze. She actually wanted to touch him, to see if his face would feel as compelling as Grant’s.
“My brother thought you were the most beautiful woman on earth.”
She blinked, trying to keep herself from crying in front of her daughter. “He told you that?”
“Yeah. He called me after your first date. ’I just kissed the most gorgeous girl in the world,’ he said. ’And someday I’m going to marry her.’”
“And what did you say?” This came from Lexie, her youthful voice surprisingly romantic.
Nick continued to stare at Elaina. “That she must be something special.”
Her husband. Her brother-in-law. Their faces were blurring, and it scared her. She needed to remember Grant’s features, his smile, his slow, sexy drawl. And she couldn’t bear to have Nick watching her with those stirring dark eyes, reminiscing about things that made her ache.
Elaina wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. She placed the picture back on the table and picked up a different one.
Immediately the image of a young Indian woman caught her attention. Her trendy clothes and retro hair-style depicted the mod era of the sixties. She sat on a worn-out sofa, a colorful miniskirt revealing shapely legs and chunky-heeled boots. Her eyes were heavily lined and her lipstick a bit too frosted, but she was still stunning.
“Who’s this?” Elaina asked, passing the photograph to Nick.
He gazed at it for a moment. “My mom.”
Lexie