My brother waved to me from his position where he was leaning against his red Porsche parked in front of the airport exit. Alexander’s good looks and suave, debonair personality always drew the looks of many women, some who were currently staring at him. His brilliant, white smile greeted me with open pleasure.
“Hey, sis,” he said, hugging me in close.
I tried not to flinch. I wasn’t used to a lot of human contact. I made it a point not to be in close contact with anyone. With Alexander, I’d always made the exception.
“How was the flight?” he asked.
“Boring, the usual,” I told him, removing my sunglasses and tucking them into my bag.
“Jules, why’d you miss the party Saturday?” he asked.
I’d missed the party because I’d been detained by killing Spencer Adams and then shooting Bob Peterson, that prick cop partner of the cunt.
“Work, you know, slaving away,” I lied easily. All lies were easy for me. They were never particularly difficult, even as a child.
“Geez, you need to work with me. A lot fewer hours, sis,” he said, complaining but taking my leather, Louis Vuitton bag and tossing it into the tiny back seat of his sleek sports car. I really wished he wouldn’t drive something so reckless and dangerous. He and father were all I had in this world.
“Doesn’t pay enough, Alex,” I lied again. “Besides, I like living and working there.”
He laughed as we drove away from the airport and toward my family’s home.
“Cleveland? You like living there? Get real, Jules. The only reason you work there is so that you can live far enough away from Mother but still be somewhat close to me.”
I smiled ruefully. He knew me so well. He was literally the only person in the world who knew me at all, and even Alex didn’t know everything about me. He couldn’t. It would kill him.
“Mother isn’t the only reason I live in Cleveland. I have my own life there. We’re not little kids anymore, Alex. We can’t live next door to one another. We’re adults now.”
“One of us is,” he said with a laugh and good humor and charm and all the things I was not.
“That’s true enough, dear,” I agreed.
“Hey, that’s a good idea,” he said, distracted.
“What is?”
“We should buy houses next door to one another and raise our kids together. Maybe one of us will have twins. Maybe we both will. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
His youthful naiveté was infectious. I smiled patiently.
“Dating anyone?” he asked next.
I gave him an expression of intolerance. “Of course not. I’m too busy with work right now.”
“I am,” he said, nearly stopping my heart.
“Oh?” I questioned. The idea of Alex bringing someone into our lives was a hassle I didn’t want or need. I wanted him to be a little more like me sometimes. I wished he’d give up on this world and the strict conformity of the rules.
He smiled and nodded at me while weaving around a slow moving vehicle in front of us.
“Yep, she’s a Harvard grad,” he explained. “Dad likes her. Mother… who knows? Who could tell?”
He was referring to our mother’s inebriation and her frozen state of Botox. She was heavy into it now, not bothering at pretense.
“What’s this genius’s name?” I asked, trying not to sound too snide. I needed to put up the pretense of an excited female.
“Andrea,” he answered. “Her family’s from Boston. Her mom’s a professor. Dad’s a business owner, rental homes or something like that. It’s still new. We’ve only been dating a few weeks, but I like her.”
“Do I get to meet this girl?” I asked, hoping he’d answer to the negative. I already wanted to strangle her with a wire garrote just for getting involved with my only sibling, the only love in my life.
“No, not now. You missed her. She came to Nantucket for Mother’s birthday party,” he explained. “She had to go back to Boston for work. She still lives there but has been looking for work in the city.”
“She’s going to move here to New York?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s finishing her residency,” he said.
“She’s a doctor?”
He laughed and said, “Clinical psychologist.”
“Oh, Jesus, Alex,” I said with disappointment. “Really?”
He laughed again and said, “Yes, we’ll get therapy for free now. Mother should be thrilled.”
I ground my teeth together. Now I really hated her.
We arrived at our building a short time later as traffic hadn’t been too heavy. He parked underground in one of our four reserved spaces, and we took the elevator up to our parents’ apartment.
“Mother and Dad aren’t here yet,” he explained as we let ourselves in. “They missed the morning ferry off the island. He called and said they’d be here this afternoon sometime.”
“Wonder why?” I asked rhetorically. We both knew it was probably because our mother was hung over from the night before.
“Be nice,” he scolded without any real feeling.
“Sure,” I answered as I took my bag to my bedroom. Our parents still kept our bedrooms intact as if we might someday still move back home. That was certainly never going to happen. Alex was happily ensconced in Gramercy Park. And I wasn’t done in Cleveland yet. I still had to deal with that cunt cop. Then it was time to move. I’d already been job hunting for the past few months. Before long, the police would actually be too close to catching me. They’d somehow stumbled onto something of importance. Stumbled, not discovered on their own. Like the truck driver witness. I’d made a mistake.
My next move was probably going to be California. It was easy to blend into the crime wave out there. I was going to be the most prolific serial killer in all of history. And there was certainly no shortage of assholes out there to kill. Jack the Ripper had likely been Walter Richard Sickert, artist, freak, gender confused killer extraordinaire. And he’d moved, as well. I was taking notes from one of my idols. It was time to move on. A change of scenery would do me good anyway. It was farther from my mother, and I felt confident that once I was there a few months, I could convince Alex to move out there, too. It would be perfect. As long as the shrink stayed in Boston. I might have to make a trip there soon if Alex didn’t end it with her.
“Wish you could stay longer,” he said from the doorway.
I sat on the bed, still made with a frilly white duvet of satin and lace. My mother’s hypocrisies were so limitless.
“Ever think of moving out west?” I asked.
“What? Why? We’re New Yorkers,” he said as if he found the idea of leaving the Big Apple ludicrous.
“I know, but I think I’d like to try L.A.,” I confessed.
“L.A.?” he asked. “Are you going into acting? That’s the only reason to move out there. And let me tell ya’, sis, you’re beautiful but way too innocent for a place like that.”
I wanted to chuckle but refrained. If he only knew. Between the two of us, Alex was the innocent. His boyish good looks only added to it.
“I want a change of pace, Alex,” I explained. “I already spoke with a few firms out there and was offered positions with both. I think I’m gonna take one.”
“Really, Jules?” he asked with shock as his face fell. “No, don’t go out there.”
“Too late,” I said. “I found a great house, too. It’s nearly all glass. I went out last month to check it out. It sits up on a cliff, overlooks the valley.”
“No,” he whispered with disbelief.
“I’m going,” I broke it to him.
“No!” he barked angrily, drawing my full attention and startling me.
“Hey,” I said softly.
“You aren’t going,” he growled with malice.
“Babe, this is what I need right now,” I tried to say in a consoling manner.
“Fucking Cleveland was far enough,” he said, spitting this time. “What the fuck are you thinking, Juliette?”
I almost drew back as he approached the bed. I’d never seen him this angry before. A vein protruded in his forehead.
“That’s why I want you to go with me,” I said as I stood.
“You’re not going,” he said firmly, his hands on his hips.
We were twins. I expected him to be upset. I didn’t expect this reaction.
“I… Alex,” I said softly and looked at my feet a moment. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t. You need to move back to the city.”
I smiled gently and reached out to touch his cheek.
“I can’t,” I said. “You know that. I can’t be that close to her.”
“And you can’t leave me here with her. Don’t leave like that.”
“You don’t understand, Alex,” I said. I wanted to tell him the truth, but he’d never understand. He couldn’t.
“Then make me. I thought you liked Cleveland,” he said, putting my own words into my mouth.
“I do,” I said with a nod and a lie. “But I’ve gotta go. I have to. I don’t have a choice.”
“Is it something that’s happened at work?”
He was picking up on exactly what I didn’t want him to see, the truth.
I shook my head. “No, not work. I just need to get out of there.”
“What happened?” he asked, his light brown brows pinching together.
I swallowed hard, ground my teeth together, bit my lower lip hard to keep myself from telling him. He’d never love me again if he knew the side of myself that I kept from him. He was so much like our father. Alexander was a good man. He didn’t have a dark side. He couldn’t. It was impossible to even fathom.
“I just gotta get out of there,” I said.
“Then come here. You can live with me. I don’t need that big apartment.”
“You sound like you might be getting a roommate soon,” I hinted at his girlfriend, the shrink.
“No way,” he swore fiercely. “I’d never pick her over you. I’d never pick anyone over you. You’re my twin, my blood. You’re my best friend, sis. Don’t leave me like this.”
Something inside of me tore just a little. I didn’t often feel the same emotions that most people experienced. It was difficult to do so. For me, it took practice just to fake it for the benefit of others. My hand lifted to my abdomen to quell the emotions fluttering there. Alex clutched my hand.
“Please, Jules,” he pleaded.
I offered a pained grin. “I…”
The outer door slammed and the shouting of our parents soon assaulted our ears.
“We’ll talk later, ok?” I said to which he nodded.
We went into the grand foyer to greet our parents. Our father grasped me, pulled me close for an embrace that lasted too long. I patted his back until he released me. He knew I didn’t like close contact and normally respected this about me. Spending the weekend with Mother must’ve left him in a needy mood. I sympathized.
“You’re too thin, darling,” he said, commenting on my weight.
“You always say that, Dad,” I returned with a smile before straightening my rumpled clothing.
I backed away and turned toward my mother. The look on her face was so easy to read.
“You missed my party, Juliette,” she said, the smell of liquor hitting me square in the face.
“Sorry, Mother,” I said without emotion. It wasn’t hard to quell emotion when speaking with her. I felt nothing there but contempt and disgust.
“What in the world could’ve been more important than making it to the island this weekend?” she admonished, dropping her Hermes bag on the entryway table. “For shame, Juliette.”
She stalked away in a contrite huff, her stilettos clicking on the chocolate marble flooring.
“She’ll get over it,” her father said in a soothing tone.
Little did he know, I didn’t give a fuck what my mother thought or had to say on the matter. The sooner my mother came down with liver disease from alcohol, the better. The world would be a better place.
I just smiled at my beloved father, admiring the gray at his temples that threaded through the rest of his dark hair.
“How’s work?” he asked as we walked into the formal living room where we all took a seat.
“Busy,” I said. It was technically the truth, but it wasn’t the entire reason for my preoccupation lately.
“Don’t work too hard, young lady,” he admonished as he lit a cigar. “Life’s too young. You kids should take some time off. You and Alex should go to Europe for few weeks.”
Yes!” their mother exclaimed as she strode into the room carrying a tray of drinks and a pitcher. “Italy’s wonderful this time of year. Go to Tuscany.”
“You know I don’t like Tuscany, Mother,” I corrected her. The only reason my mother liked Italy was for the wine selection. She was bored at the art museums, barely tolerant of the opera, but perked up at the vineyards. It was one more behavior for which I was ashamed of her.
“Then go to Paris or Luxembourg,” my father suggested.
“She can’t,” Alex said, interrupting their European vacation planning. I looked at him, waiting for his explanation. “She’s moving to L.A.”
“What?” my mother shrieked. “L.A.? But, Juliette, why on God’s earth would you want to move to that dingy city? You can’t be serious.”
Everything outside of her Upper East Side apartment and the eight hundred manicured acres of Central Park was dingy according to our mother. She barely tolerated Alex living at Gramercy Park.
“I am actually,” I told them. Then I shot a glare at my brother. I hadn’t wanted our father to find out like this. I knew he wasn’t going to like this decision.
“But, Juliette, that’s so far from here, dear,” he said as I knew he would. “Cleveland is dangerous enough. Why would you want to move out there?”
“I was offered an exceptional position with a big firm. Full partner, less travel, working with Hollywood production companies. I wanted the change of pace.”
“But it’s not a nice area to live,” my father stated again. “Trust me, I’ve been out there for work. I was glad to get on the plane back home.”
“I’ve been there twice already. I liked it just fine and even found a great house already.”
My father sighed hard. “It sounds as if you’ve already made up your mind, which is rather upsetting to me. Why didn’t you consult with us first?”
“I’m an adult, Dad,” I told him as Mother passed out drinks. I was positive that her Arnold Palmer was spiked, even if ours weren’t.
“I hope you reconsider,” he requested as he puffed cigar smoke into the air. Our mother hated him smoking in the apartment. I was quite sure that he hated her drinking, but apparently they’d worked out a compromise.
“Sure,” I conceded, although I had no intention of doing so. I had to go. I was being hunted by that fucking cunt cop. If she was stupid enough to accidently stumble upon enough information, she might just figure it out that it was I wreaking havoc on her shitty city. I really didn’t care for Cleveland. I’d only chosen that dump to live so that I could be away from my family, far enough away so that I wouldn’t have to answer for my bizarre, untimely absences. I also didn’t want to be around my mother. That part was true.
“Thank you, darling,” my father said with kind eyes.
“How disappointing,” the bitch commented with her usual crass, judgmental attitude. I wanted to take my straw out of my shitty tea-lemonade mix she’d managed to screw up and ram it into her left eye socket. Instead, I set my mouth in a tight line that should’ve come off as a crooked smile. It was the best I could do given the circumstances.
We dined at Eleven Madison Park that evening, my mother’s favorite restaurant. She ordered salmon and asparagus, ate three bites and drank nearly an entire bottle of white wine by herself. I had steak, the same as my father and brother. I did it just to piss her off. She was always judgmental of me when I ate unhealthy, fattening foods. I knew it was because she was jealous that I could and she couldn’t anymore. She ate like a bird to maintain her tiny, size two figure. She drank like a fish, though.
After dinner, Alex and I ditched our parents and went out to one of his favorite nightclubs. I danced with him and even drank a shot, just one. I didn’t want to lose my faculties. Alex hardly ever drank either. We didn’t want to be like her. The pulsing music of the place coursed through my veins as we danced and laughed. A few men hit on me. More than one young lady tried to capture my brother’s attention, but he didn’t give them the time of day. He only had time for me tonight. We were inseparable as children, and when I’d moved to Cleveland, he’d been heartbroken. So had I. It wasn’t really a choice. I couldn’t continue to kill people in New York City. The FBI branch in the city was a little keener than Cleveland cops. And I needed to move again. I had to find a way to convince him to go to L.A. with me.
When we arrived back at our parents’ apartment, I grabbed my bag, left a note for my father and went with Alex to his place in Gramercy Park. I was glad he lived in a secure, exclusive community. There were a lot of crazies in the city.
We crashed on his living room floor so we could stay up and talk. He was so easy and engaging, so unlike everyone else I’d ever known. It was like he knew what I was going to say before I said it and vice versa. Before we fell asleep, Alex leaned up on one elbow.
“Maybe L.A. wouldn’t be so bad,” he said on a yawn and rolled over to go to sleep.
I stayed awake quite a while longer planning our future together. Alex would find another woman in L.A., probably many. He could practice law out there, too. It would be perfect. I could conduct my business, my extra-curricular activities, and spend more time with my brother. It would only be more perfect if we could convince our father to come with us. The worthless house cat could stay in New York by herself. I fell asleep finally with a smile on my face.