Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin (Big Sky Boyfriends #2)

Chapter 18

18

The pink coat had down falling out of it in places like it had mange. Her nose was buried beneath big white bandages, and she had two black eyes giving her the appearance of a raccoon. Her hand was still wrapped in its own bandages, but a loose end hung down, all snarled and tangled. On top of that, she wore a big black medical boot on her left foot, Velcro straps securing it in place, her jeans cut up the front to part around it, toes peeking out the end. They had to be cold walking in all the new snow.

“Lorraine, what happened to you?” I asked, approaching her, concerned.

She held up a hand to stop me, her eyes wild, her breathing ragged. Jack stilled me by grabbing my wrist, pulling me back gently toward him. I felt his warm, solid chest against my back. His thumb ran idly over the back of my hand.

“You! You did this to me!”

She thunked over, hobbling like a peg-legged pirate, to point her bony finger into my chest.

“How?”

Before she could reply, her eyes darted to the counter. “Holy shit. What the hell is that thing doing here? Is this a sick joke or something?”

I turned my head and saw George staring at Lorraine, his smile now looking like a leer.

Goldie must have sensed the garden gnome's imminent danger as she grabbed it and stuck it behind the counter, out of sight. “That's my grandson's garden gnome. It can't harm anyone.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you think I got this?” Lorraine held up her bandaged hand and pointed to her nose.

Goldie stood behind the counter, slack jawed, watching. Lorraine was like a talk show come to life and it was all happening right in Goldie's store. She was in heaven. “Now that I know what happened to your nose, what happened to your hand?”

Lorraine had a cagey look on her face, her eyes darting from Goldie to me. “I...um...I burned it.”

A niggling feeling settled in my stomach.

“That is a deadly weapon,” Lorraine replied, talking about George. Not one to be steered off track, she turned back to me. “I saw you this morning with Ronald and I followed you.”

“Me? You couldn't have seen me. I was with him.” I waved my thumb over my shoulder behind me. Jack shrugged his shoulders as I turned to look at him.

“Ha! I knew you two got together,” Goldie added triumphantly.

Lorraine laughed, and not in a ha-ha funny sort of way. Clearly, she was losing her mind.

“With lover boy here? Yeah, right. I saw you. This morning. Driving with Ronald. Remember, you told me you'd be leaving around nine? Well, you were a little late, but I was definitely able to follow you.”

“I wasn't with any man but?—”

Jack squeezed my shoulders. “Miller, I think there's an easy explanation for this.”

All eyes were on him. Goldie remained frozen where she was, her head tilted as if she were trying to listen extra closely. Lorraine was breathing heavily, but was listening, and so was I.

“Violet's home,” he said.

“Your imaginary twin?” Lorraine asked incredulously.

Realization dawned on me. That weaselly, two-timing, look-alike, conniving sister. “Lorraine, I think we can get this resolved right now.” I pulled my cell from my pocket, speed dialed my sister.

“Hey, V,” Violet answered after the third ring.

“Are you back in town yet?” I asked.

I heard some rustling, a door slam. “Doing laundry.”

“Hey, listen, I'm at Goldilocks and someone dropped a package off here.” I wasn't about to ask her about Ronald and the voicemail I'd left for her. She could duck out with some excuse and I'd be stuck with Lorraine. I wanted Violet and Lorraine in the same room to work this out.

Lorraine was watching me with interest, but obviously still didn't believe the twin story.

“There's some confusion if it's for you or me, so I need you to come down,” I told Violet.

“Right now?” Violet sighed. “I've had a long day and I need?—”

“Yes.” I cut her off. Enough about what she needed. “I need you to come down right now !” I pushed End and wanted to strangle my sister through the phone. Jack squeezed my shoulders in what I thought was a very reassuring gesture.

Goldie must have come to her senses as she came around the counter and pulled up a stool for Lorraine. “Here, you have a seat. Tell me what on earth happened to you.”

Lorraine seemed pacified by Goldie's attentions, by the strange clucking noises she made. Lorraine settled down once she got comfortable. She pointed to her leg. “This, from skiing.”

“Um, excuse me?” a customer asked, interrupting Lorraine right at the good part.

Since Goldie was doing her tending bit, I stepped up. “What can I do for you?” I wanted to hear Lorraine's story, but the customer came first.

The man was in his fifties with a pot belly and a receding hairline like Homer Simpson. Light coat. He was one of those men whose internal temperatures burned extra hot because he was sweating, little beads dotting his bald forehead when the rest of us were cold, even with our long underwear beneath our clothes.

Everyone stared at him. Jack, Lorraine, Goldie and I were giving him more attention than he probably wanted. Poor man.

“I...um,” he leaned in close to me, all but whispered, “I rented Cream Pie Academy last week and wanted to know if there was a sequel.”

“Sure, let me check,” I smiled at the man, trying to reassure him Goldilocks was a discreet place to shop. I went behind the counter and looked under the C's.

“You went skiing today?” Jack asked Lorraine while I was occupied. I turned to look back over the counter. Drat, I wanted to hear this.

“I was following you,” she pointed at me again. “You and Ronald went down the mogul run. I don't do moguls. You were too fast for me and I fell, broke my ankle. Ski patrol had to bring me down the mountain then an ambulance took me to the ER. They know me by name over there now.”

Maybe it was safer with me behind the counter. Sounded like a painful, miserable experience.

I turned back to my search when I realized Homer was waiting a little impatiently. Cream Pie, Cream Pie , yes. There it was. I pulled the movie and handed it to Homer, now standing at the counter. He seemed to be looking at me differently since he thought it was my fault Lorraine broke her ankle. I smiled at him, hoping he'd think I was innocent.

“Four dollars, please,” I said.

Goldie patted Lorraine on the arm. “Oh, dear. What a terrible thing to happen. And your nose, too.” Goldie was a very kind woman. She took care of everyone in town, whether through being a customer at the store, or just a friend or neighbor. Everyone knew Goldie, and she knew everyone within a fifty-mile radius.

Her son, Nate, Jane’s first husband, died several years before from some kind of heart attack or something, but she'd never lost the mothering gene. I found she tended to have lots of chicks to take care of, including myself.

With Lorraine's multiple wounds and sad story of spousal infidelity, with me, nonetheless, Goldie swooped in to protect the meek. And boy, did Lorraine look meek sitting there. Feathers, bruises, bandages and leg braces.

“The doc who took care of my foot says he knows you.”

Now Homer raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oh?” I commented, although it wasn't much of a surprise someone knew me since it was a small town.

“Dr. O or some such letter.”

I nodded. “Sure, Mike Ostranski.”

“Wanted me to tell you the paddle was working out. Make any sense to you?” Lorraine eyed me suspiciously.

Now Homer had both eyebrows raised. Did he really think I was into paddle play with a doctor at the hospital? And, responsible for corrupting Lorraine's husband? With the look on his face, he definitely thought so.

Jack was smirking. I could see it from where I stood behind the counter. His lip quirked up, and his chest was moving as if he was trying to squelch a laugh. He knew Mike would be making fun of himself—and the sex party—and Jack wasn't going to let me off easily. Or at all.

“Customer,” I told Homer, trying to explain who Dr. O was.

Homer nodded as he handed me the money. “Right, sure.”

He obviously didn't believe me.

I handed him the movie in a bag. “Have a good one,” I replied as he made his way out of the store. If I ever saw him around town, I had no doubt Homer would switch to the other side of the street to avoid me. Oh, brother.

Homer held open the door for Violet, who came in like a whirling dervish, stomping snow from her feet, cold breeze swirling behind her. Homer stood there frozen in place, staring at Violet. The last expression on his face as the door closed behind him was like he'd seen a ghost, obviously surprised there were actually two of me.

I wanted to stick my tongue out at him and say 'See?', but I held back.

Violet wore a heavy purple jacket, matching hat and gloves, jeans and snow boots. And she looked exactly like me.

“Holy shit,” Lorraine said. She stood up and hobbled over to Violet. Looked her over carefully, her head swiveling between my sister and me. Over and over. To keep the woman's head from unscrewing entirely, I went and stood next to Violet.

“You really are a twin,” Lorraine replied, in awe.

Violet, used to the ogling at being identical, ignored Lorraine. “Hi, Miss Goldie,” Violet said, and then seeing Jack, smiled brightly. “Jack Reid. Been a long time.” She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear and gave him moon eyes.

Jack didn't look too keen on seeing my sister and it showed. She'd been the one to mess things up for him early on, and his life had changed based on her small transgression. Violet quickly picked up on the cold shoulder and dropped the flirting act.

“Violet,” he murmured politely, but definitely without any feeling.

Violet looked at me, her face completely confused. “Where's the package you were telling me about?”

“You,” Lorraine said, jabbing Violet in the shoulder, “You're the one sleeping with my husband.”

Violet's jaw dropped open.

Goldie gasped. This was the first time she'd heard the official accusation. Up to this point, all she knew was that someone looking like me went skiing with her husband, Ronald. Goldie had known Violet and I our whole lives and shenanigans with a married man was the irresponsible, reckless, and moral-free behavior she didn't tolerate. From anyone.

“Violet,” Goldie said, her voice laced with disappointment and anger. She shook her head from side to side in disbelief.

“What?” Violet planted her hands on her hips. “I never slept with anyone's husband! I don't even know who your husband is.” Violet practically yelled at Lorraine. Her fuse was short and she definitely didn't like to be cornered as she was now.

“Ronald,” Lorraine told her. “Name ring a bell?”

Violet visibly deflated like a popped balloon. Oh, shit, had she really slept with a married man?

“Listen, it's not what you think,” she said, her voice much more pleading than a moment ago.

Lorraine hobbled back to the stool and sat down heavily. “Fine. I'm listening.”

“I am, too,” said Goldie. She crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom.

Jack leaned against the glass display case, clearly eager to hear this as well.