Everett laughed to prove that he didn’t mind being referred to as the sadder and fatter version of his twin brother.
“Hey everybody,” he waved, “I’m Everett Alvarez, Evan’s twin.”
Klair stole a glance at her husband. Evan shrugged with a hell if I know? expression.
Clearly it was on Everett to take charge.
“I’ve come from California bearing gifts.” He raised each of his hands yet again.
“You can set those over there.” Another smile from Klair. She pointed toward the kitchen island where Everett could see a scattering of other wrapped presents.
“Thanks.” He shuffled over to the counter and set them down while everyone watched him.
“Everett drove here from California,” Evan said.
“Your home is beautiful,” Everett said, trying to melt the tension without appearing to case the place.
“Thanks,” Klair replied with a tired smile. “Sometimes it feels like a full-time job keeping up with the place.”
“I’m sure it is,” said the older woman. “Unless Evan’s finally learned to pick up after himself.”
Should Everett defend his brother, and possibly offend his new … aunt?
He thought of his apartment back home as he took in the polished marble and hardwood floors. Even at its cleanest, his place was still trash. He was grateful that Evan hadn’t been the one to seek him out.
But he’d be able to afford something better soon.
“It’s very nice to meet you.” Klair turned to her husband. “Can you please help me with something in the kitchen?”
“Of course,” Evan said.
Then he was gone and Everett was alone with Evan’s family. They’d be his family too soon enough, but right now they all felt like the strangers they were.
“I’m William, and this is my wife, Dorothy.” The older gentleman offered his hand. “You can call me Bill.”
“We’re Evan’s adopted parents,” Dorothy explained.
Everett shook Bill’s hand, then Dorothy’s, before turning to the children. “And you must be Harmony and Jazz.”
“Hey,” Harmony said, seeming completely uninterested in her father’s twin brother.
“Hey,” Jazz echoed, with what sounded like a light note of curiosity.
Bill asked, “That must have been a strange experience, finding out that you had a twin brother.”
“It was,” Everett said, but then for some reason he couldn’t just leave it at that. “I guess I’ve always known that I had one … or something.”
“What was your family like growing up?” Dorothy asked.
What could he tell them that wouldn’t make him sound like a total loser?
“A really nice couple. They adopted me when they found out they couldn’t have any more children.”
“Oh?” Dorothy said. “How many siblings do you have?”
“And what’s the age difference?” Bill added.
“Marco was ten and Roberto was twelve when I was a baby.”
“Bless your sweet mother!” Dorothy laughed. “How did your brothers feel about your arrival?”
Everett laughed, mostly to make himself feel less alone. “Mixed feelings, I guess.”
“Are you boys close to your parents?”
Everett wasn’t expecting the surge of that followed Dorothy’s question. Here he was, talking to the mother he could have had, just days after losing the mother offered by fate. And he would’ve given anything to trade Dorothy for another minute with the woman who’d raised him.
Coming here had been a mistake.
“Our dad died a few years ago, and our mom passed just last week, so the last time I saw them was at the funeral.”
“Oh …” Dorothy touched her face. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. She was … at least she’s not suffering now.”
Thankfully, Evan and Klair returned, giving Everett a chance to change the subject.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead. Maybe I should—”
“Nonsense.” Evan clapped his shoulder and offered him a much more genuine smile than before. “You’re my brother.”
Then Evan really surprised Everett by pulling him into a hug.
“You have a wonderful family,” Everett said when they parted.
“Do you want to go outside and fly my drone with me later?” Jazz asked.
“I would love that!” The smile probably looked stupid on his face, but Everett didn’t even care.
“Just … please … no more …” Klair couldn’t finish, or really even start her sentence.
“I won’t, Mom.” Jazz was clearly embarrassed by his mother’s half-thought. He turned to Everett and waved. “See you later.”
“Are you coming back for presents and cake?” Klair asked.
“Half an hour?” Jazz said.
“Sure.”
Harmony frowned. “Why does he get to go?”
Evan and Klair together: “Harmony.”
“Whatever. Mind if I go and make sure the ice cream is frozen?” Then she sauntered off toward the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
“Ev—” Klair started.
“Yes?” both brothers responded in unison.
“Sorry.” She touched her husband’s arm. “I meant Evan.”
Everett flushed. Of course she did. Why would she be talking to a brother-in-law she’d known for less than ten minutes?
“Well, this is going to get sticky,” Dorothy said.
Bill suggested, “Why don’t we call you Rhett?”
Klair nodded. “Rhett it is.”
Except that Everett really hated that idea.
Evan turned to Klair. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to suggest that you make your brother a drink.”
“Oh. Sure thing.” Back to Everett. “You have a favorite?”
“Margaritas, usually. But what do you suggest?”
“I suggest that you follow me.” Evan smiled, then led his brother to the bar. “Besides driving across country, how do you most like to celebrate your birthday: big party with lots of friends, or an intimate gathering with only a few?”
“Intimate gathering for sure.”
“You’re out with friends and someone orders drinks for the group. It’s your turn and you only have three seconds to think. Margaritas are off the menu — what do you order?”
“A shot of something,” Everett said.
“You have a ton of work to do. Procrastinate or lick the frog?”
“Lick the frog?”
“Procrastinate or get it done?”
“Get it done!” Because Everett didn’t want to admit the other.
“Do you prefer savory or sweet?” Evan asked.
“Sweet.”
“Are you more likely to take a nap or go to the gym?”
That one was embarrassing. Not just because the answer was obvious by looking at him. If he and his brother both took their shirts off, Everett might cry.
“Take a nap,” he admitted.
“Burger or seafood?”
“Burger.”
“What are you most likely to order on a date?”
“This is a lot of questions,” Everett said.
“Good news, this is the last one. After you answer, I’ll know your perfect drink.”
“Depends on what my date orders, but I guess I would want something I can sip.”
Evan smiled as he pulled down a glass from the shelf. “Just what I thought.”
“So what’s my drink?”
“I suggest a whiskey neat.”
“You mean … like a shot?” Everett asked.
“No, not a shot.” Evan shook his head, giving Everett what felt like an admonishing look while grabbing a bottle of Artemis Tull from the bar.
“I don’t think I like whiskey.”
“Have you ever tried it?” Evan asked.
“I’ve had a—”
“Without adding anything to it?”
“No.”
Evan finished pouring the whiskey, then gave it to Everett. “Neat means no frills, not even rocks. You can sip the alcohol slowly enough to appreciate it. You’re not trying to get drunk … you’re savoring the drink’s complex flavors.”
Everett placed the glass underneath his nose and took a whiff. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t love it either. “How do you know I’ll like this?”
“Because it’s my favorite.” Evan grinned and poured a glass for himself, which he raised it in a toast. “We are twins, aren’t we?”
Glasses clinked and Everett felt a spark of something true and wonderful.
This was what he’d been waiting an entire lifetime to feel.
A half hour passed in a flash as he told Evan a sanitized version of his life story, focusing on the similarities between them: the sibling rivalry without the bullying, Mom’s lessons in the kitchen without Dad’s contempt, his son’s birth and the divorce he pretended had been amicable. Everett’s description of Java Joe’s was rosier than the café deserved, even when it was at its newest and most successful. The rest could come later, once Evan knew his brother better.
Or maybe never — now that his life was turning around, maybe he could just share his successes going forward.
He expected Evan to brag about his own personal triumphs, but when Everett asked about Señor Sushi and Tequila Mockingbird, his brother changed the subject.
So he tried something easier. “How do you like living in Texas?”
“Austin or Texas?”
“What’s the difference?” Austin was in Texas.
“It’s different.” Evan laughed.
“That’s not very specific.”
Evan shrugged. “Well, let’s see … some people say we’re a blue dot in a red state, and others say the same thing by calling us ‘weird.’ We’re the live music capital of the world.”
“I heard that!”
“We have our own culture. People here really care about food and technology, the environment and—”
“Sounds like California,” Everett said after a sip.
“But without the Californians.” Evan laughed.
So did Everett, but he wasn’t sure if that was an insult.
“Plus, it’s cheaper to live here, right?” Everett still couldn’t stop thinking about that 1.7-million-dollar mansion just two blocks away.”
“It’s not San Antonio cheap, but compared to LA or New York or Boston, it’s not even close. But … it is getting more expensive all the time.”
“Oh yeah?” Narrow the gap in housing costs, and California might look more attractive.
“Great schools where we live, especially for the money, but our house value has doubled since we moved in.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Ten years. But we’ve also done a lot of work. Added the pool, and our guest house out back.”
And it all looked brochure-handsome. Surely he’d be able to sell it for a huge profit, which would make it easier to get into a great place in Las Orillas, once Evan got a taste for California.
“Traffic keeps getting worse,” Evan said. “But it’s still not as bad as some of the concrete jungles in Texas. No natural disasters like all your fires and earthquakes.”
“They’re not mine,” Everett laughed, and took a sip of his very delicious whiskey.
“Fair enough. I met Klair like a million years ago, but from what I understand, the dating scene in this city is terrific.” Evan shrugged. “It’s a great place to live.”
“Have you been in Austin all your life?”
“My parents moved us here when I was ten.”
“Us?”
“My older sister, Samantha. She’s in Kenya right now.”
“Kenya? What’s she doing there?”
“Building roads,” Evan said.
“Oh. Are you close?”
“Too close.” Evan laughed. “She’s always telling me what to do.”
“Was your sister adopted too?”
“Three years before me, and she was four when I was only a baby. I’ll never catch up — she still thinks I don’t know anything.”
Everett couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. Bill and Dorothy had wanted two children, but somehow not him?
Why was Evan wanted by everyone while Everett was wanted by no one?
“Am I interrupting?” Klair asked.
“Cake time?” Evan said.
“Cake time,” Klair repeated with a nod.
Evan gave his brother a glance: We’ll finish this later.
Of course Everett was disappointed, but they’d bond later. Now that Evan had accepted him, surely the rest of his family would too.
They followed Klair to the kitchen counter, where a cake now sat artfully centered amid all those presents. The cake looked like a wet burrito, with raspberry puree as ranchero sauce drizzled across the top and onto the plate below. A proud dollop of whipped instead of sour cream, and what Everett guessed was a large scoop of pistachio ice cream in place of guacamole. His mouth watered, imagining the sweet layers inside that cakey burrito.
“We were going to put forty candles in it,” Harmony announced, “but we didn’t want to burn the house down.”
Evan grunted. “Sure didn’t see that one coming.”
“I’m surprised you can even remember what a joke is at your age,” said Jazz.
Everett laughed, feeling younger than ever. But Evan shot him a grumpy look before pasting on a smile for his family
“Hurry, there’s ice cream.” Klair lit the candles and stepped away from the cake. “Three … two … one …”
Then the room was singing.
But it stung when Evan’s name was the only one harmonized. And it stung a little more when Everett’s brother blew out the candles without inviting him to blow too. It would’ve been so easy to include him, knowing that it was his birthday too — but Klair was already cutting the cake.
Habit, he told himself. They weren’t used to him yet. By Christmas, he’d be a member of the family.
“What did you wish for?” Jazz asked his father.
“I’ve never told you that before,” Evan shook his head, “and turning forty isn’t about to change my MO.”
“Then tell us what you’re thinking, now that you’re over the hill.” Klair took his arm with a smile.
“Forty is the new thirty, and I don’t know why you’re always on me about being older, since you’re only a year behind me.”
“Because I will always be a year behind you, and therefore never as old as you.”
“You’re both ancient,” Harmony muttered, but with a smile.
Everett eyed the pile of gifts and wished for another whiskey to sip while hiding his discomfort. He hadn’t realized that showing up unannounced meant he’d be celebrating his twin’s birthday without anyone celebrating his.
At least at home, the Ds would have made a big deal about the day and invited him over to play games all evening. Jessa would’ve made tacos and bought an ice cream cake.
As soon as Bill and Dorothy left, Everett would suggest that they break in those gaming consoles.
“Thanks, guys. For all of this.” Evan smiled. “Jokes aside, I have no fear of growing older. I was raised by remarkable parents who made sure I always felt loved. I have a gorgeous, supportive wife who I’ve loved for nearly half of my life now. And two remarkable children who I’m so incredibly proud of.”
Evan looked at everyone before finishing, including Everett. “I’m proud of everything I’ve done in my first forty years, and even prouder to know that I’m just getting started.” He looked down at the burrito cake. “Can we start eating, or are we opening presents first?”
It was hard not to feel envious, but Everett shut that part of himself off. He shouldn’t be seeing everything around him as “the life he never had” when it was so clearly “the life he could still achieve.” But he suddenly felt thirty pounds too heavy and ten years behind his older brother, instead of the few seconds their birth certificates claimed.
He forced himself to smile while Evan opened his presents, feeling more and more out of place. He was used to being a third wheel. Or an unwanted unicycle lying unloved in the corner. But right now he felt like that unicycle getting dragged behind the train on its way to an entirely different circus.
Evan unwrapped a set of drinking glasses and some sort of fitness tracker.
The glasses didn’t seem all that special, but Evan’s expression was almost awed as he seemed to weigh them, moving the set with affection from one hand to the other.
“These are gorgeous,” Evan said in admiration.
Bill gave his adopted son an appreciative nod. “A whiskey is only as refined as the glass it’s served in.”
Evan made a fuss over the fitness tracker too, which apparently recorded a lot more than steps.
Harmony gave him a pair of sunglasses, and Jazz gave him a homemade mug that read World’s Greatest Dad.
Evan was having the most boring birthday ever.
Two boxes left, both from Klair, though she snatched the smaller one away, quickly and with obvious embarrassment. “Sorry, that one’s not supposed to be there.”
“What is it?” Jazz asked.
“Something gross,” Harmony said.
“It’s for your father.” Klair put the smaller box into a drawer in the sideboard.
The bigger box was a new espresso maker. Silver and black, better than the secondhand monstrosity that Everett had scrounged for Java Joe’s.
“I know you’ve been wanting a new one,” Klair said.
“It’s perfect.” Evan pulled the espresso maker out of its box, set it gently on the counter, and began to study it with an appreciative gaze. “I love it.”
“This man adores his coffee,” Klair explained to Everett. “And our old maker’s been on the fritz for a while.”
“Someone used milk instead of water,” Jazz said, with a sideways glance at his sister.
“This one comes with a frothing pitcher, a tamping tool, and a measuring spoon.”
“I think they all do, Mom.” Harmony looked like she was dying to roll her eyes.
Klair laughed. “Well, they’re better in this model.”
“Your mother’s right.” Evan gave her a kiss. “Thank you for everything.”
“Are those from you, dear?” Dorothy asked Everett, gesturing to the Gameway bags still sitting on the table.
“Oh yeah, they’re nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Evan said, looking to Jazz. “It’s two Infinite Fidelity units.”
“REALLY?” Everett had never seen a happier child. “I thought you said we couldn’t get that yet.”
“I did.” Evan tousled his hair. “But it looks like I was wrong.”
Jazz ran over to the bags and started digging for treasure.
“What’s this?” Evan asked, pulling out a bag of Beaver Nuggets.
“They’re from Buc-ee’s,” Klair explained, almost apologetically.
Cake was served and quietly eaten, then the tiny crowd dispersed. Jazz went back to the pair of Infinite Fidelity units and began to unbox them. Everett tried to make small talk with Bill and Dorothy, but when even that felt like too much heavy lifting, he walked over and attempted to engage Harmony in a friendly exchange. She somehow managed to make him feel older, younger, and dumber than anyone else.
After Bill and Dorothy bid their farewells, Klair and Evan retreated to a corner of the kitchen to whisper. Probably about Everett, or maybe about whatever was in Evan’s little box. Either way, he should get going. He just needed five minutes to talk with his brother first.
Everett circled the living room, looking at pictures on the mantle displaying the life he could’ve had. Jealousy swelled, worse than before.
Not the life he could have had, the life he should have had.
The life he didn’t have, because Bill and Dorothy hadn’t wanted him.
Was it chance that they had chosen Evan over him, or had they sensed a difference between the boys that made Evan a better fit for this life?
Did Evan have something that Everett had lacked from the start?
How could that be, when they were identical twins?
Everett reminded himself that this was his family too. They just had to get used to each other. He would prove that he was just as good as Evan. Make them see what a mistake they’d made in choosing one twin while abandoning the other.
But it still wouldn’t make up for everything Everett had missed out on in life by being second.