Five

“Where’s Jessica?” Alice Wakefield slid a steaming stack of pancakes onto a plate and handed it to her daughter as she entered the kitchen.

“Uh—she’ll be down in a minute.” Elizabeth kept her eyes glued to the floor. Her hair fell forward in a shining curtain to mask her scarlet cheeks. “She, uh, has to sew a button on her skirt.”

“Well, she’d better hurry. I have to be getting ready for work myself in a few minutes. Turning pancakes all morning isn’t exactly my idea of gainful employment.”

Mrs. Wakefield spoke good-naturedly as she moved briskly between the stove and the butcher-block island that occupied the center of the kitchen’s spacious work area. She’d gotten up at dawn to go jogging, as she did every morning, and still was wearing her burgundy velour warm-ups and her running shoes. Her honey-blond hair was caught up in a ponytail, adding a youthfulness to her tanned, slender appearance that made her seem closer to her daughters’ age than her own. It was easy to see where the twins had gotten their sun-kissed good looks.

Noting that Elizabeth seemed unusually quiet, Alice Wakefield paused to ask, “Are you worried about that test you’re taking today? I know getting that license means an awful lot to you girls.”

Elizabeth forced down a forkful of pancakes and syrup, nudging it along with a generous swallow of milk. Normally, pancakes were her very favorite breakfast, but this morning she wasn’t a bit hungry. Her stomach felt as if it had been braided.

“Mmmm,” she mumbled. “I’m pretty sure I’ll do all right. The questions aren’t really all that hard; there’re just going to be a lot of them. Tons of little facts to remember.”

“When I was your age, I wanted to be a camp counselor one summer,” her mother mused. “About twenty kids applied, and they only needed five. So we took a test, and then they interviewed us.”

“Did you get the job?”

Her mother chuckled. “I failed the test miserably, but the woman who was interviewing us turned out to be someone I did baby-sitting for. She liked me so much that she gave me the job anyway.”

“I’ll bet you made a great counselor, Mom.”

“I’m not sure how great I was, but it certainly was a lot of fun. I’m so glad you and Jess decided to do this. And it’s nice you’ll be able to work together.”

“If we both pass, that is,” Elizabeth muttered darkly.

“I am a bit worried about your sister. I hope she didn’t get home too late to do some studying. Do you know what time she got in?”

Elizabeth choked on the mouthful of pancakes she was swallowing. She doubled over in a fit of coughing that brought her mother scurrying over to deliver a few solid pats on her back.

“My goodness!” her mother cried when Elizabeth’s red color had returned to normal. “When will you girls learn to take smaller bites? Every time that happens, you add another gray hair to my head.”

Elizabeth smiled; there wasn’t a single gray hair among her mother’s tawny locks. “Sorry, Mom, I guess I was kind of in a hurry.” She wasn’t really sorry, though. She’d succeeded in distracting her mother from the subject of Jessica’s whereabouts.

Her mother smiled as she shook her head, smoothing a stray wisp from her forehead. “I was just thinking of the fights you and Jess used to have when you were still in high chairs. She would start by throwing pieces of her food at you, and you’d usually wind up dumping your cup of milk over her head.” She laughed. “Something you should know in case you’re ever blessed with twins someday, Elizabeth—you need double the patience.”

“Thanks, but I don’t plan on having twins.” She didn’t add that it was enough trouble just dealing with being a twin.

Her mother laughed. “Neither did I, dear. Neither did I.”

A minute later, she frowned and glanced up at the ceiling. “What’s taking Jessica so long? I’ve got to get to work. She should be finished sewing that button on by now.”

Elizabeth shoveled in the last of her breakfast with lightning speed. “Thanks for the pancakes, Mom. They were great. I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Todd.”

“What about your sister?” Alice Wakefield called after her as she was going out the door.

“Sorry—can’t wait. Tell her I’ll meet her later on.”

“Oh, well—OK then. Good luck on the test, dear. I know you won’t need it, but good luck anyway.”

I’m going to need all the luck I can get, Elizabeth thought gloomily as she ducked outside. She’d made it past first base, but she was far from safe. The hardest part was still to come. Could she do it? Could she fool her mother into thinking she was Jessica? She was certain Jessica would have no trouble pulling off the deception—she’d done it often enough in the past. Like the time at Kelly’s bar, when she’d let everyone believe she was Elizabeth, nearly costing Elizabeth both her reputation and her budding relationship with Todd. But she didn’t want to think about that now. If she stopped to count all the reasons why she shouldn’t be doing Jessica a favor, she’d end up sitting outside all day.

Silently cursing her twin, Elizabeth doubled back around the side of the house, crouching down as she passed the kitchen window so her mother wouldn’t see her. Carefully, ever so carefully, she let herself in through the front door, removing her moccasins as she did so.

She raced upstairs with her heart in her throat, not daring to breathe until she’d reached the safety of Jessica’s room. There, she quickly peeled off her clothes and stuffed them into the closet. Choosing a short, bias-cut skirt and matching striped top that was one of Jessica’s favorite outfits, she hastily made the change, pulling the clips out of her hair and giving her head a shake. A dash of her twin’s favorite cologne and some of her lipstick and she was ready—if not exactly eager—to go downstairs and greet the world as Jessica Wakefield.

“I swear I’ll get you for this, Jess.” Elizabeth hissed into the mirror, wagging an exasperated finger at her alter ego’s reflection. “If it’s the last thing I do!”

Fortunately, Alice Wakefield was already busy with the dishes, and she barely glanced up as Elizabeth swooped into the kitchen and gave her mother a swift, perfumed peck on the cheek.

“Sorry I took so long, Mom. You know me when it comes to sewing.” She settled into Jessica’s chair. “My hands turn into baseball mitts whenever I get near a needle and thread.”

Elizabeth knew her sister so well that the performance was second nature, despite her discomfort at having to give it.

“I’d just about given up on you.” Alice Wakefield turned toward her daughter only long enough to set the last of the pancakes in front of her.

Elizabeth groaned inwardly. She was already so full she could scarcely move. Ugh! She could picture the headline in the next edition of The Oracle: “Columnist Rushed to Hospital for Stomach Pumping! Condition Critical!”

“Forgive me, stomach, for what I’m about to do to you,” she muttered under her breath, courageously spearing a generous forkful. She would have to make a good show of eating to keep her mother from getting suspicious. Unfortunately, pancakes also happened to be Jessica’s favorite breakfast.

Mrs. Wakefield spoke over her shoulder as she loaded the dishwasher. “Liz couldn’t wait. She said she’d meet you later on.”

“No problem,” Elizabeth replied with an airy wave of her hand. “She’s probably meeting Todd anyway. I’ll catch up with her at school.”

She chattered on, scarcely taking a breath between bites. She didn’t want to give her mother an opening to ask about her day with Cara. “Oh, by the way, did you get a chance to look at that blouse I was telling you about? The one in the window of Foxy Mama?” Elizabeth remembered overhearing Jessica telling their mother about the blouse the other day.

Mrs. Wakefield sighed. “Honestly, Jess, you need a new blouse like I need triplets. If you ever bothered to wash and iron the ones at the bottom of your closet, you could probably double your wardrobe.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the thought of the laundry—the twins’ responsibility ever since their mother had gone back to work a few years ago.

Elizabeth was about to plead for the blouse again when she was struck by a sudden bolt of inspiration. The corners of her mouth lifted in an impish smile.

“You should get it for Liz,” she suggested sweetly. “She never asks for anything. At least then I could borrow it once in a while.”

“You’re absolutely right. Elizabeth doesn’t ask very often. You could take a lesson or two from her in that department. As for the blouse … we’ll see. I’m not sure Elizabeth’s tastes run as much toward the outlandish as yours. Though I must say,” she added with a quick smile, “you look very nice this morning.”

Elizabeth was halfway out the door when her mother called after her, “Oh, Jess—”

Elizabeth froze, certain she’d been given away by some minor detail she’d overlooked in making her hasty transformation. She was sure her mother could hear the way her heart was hammering.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck on the test. I doubt if you got in as much studying as you should have, but I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Elizabeth stammered. “Bye, Mom.”

She fled down the driveway as if she were being chased. She’d pulled it off—but at what cost? She was sick about deceiving her mother. What had possessed her to ask for that blouse? And her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed the Goodyear blimp.

Strangling was too good for Jessica, she decided.