The Stranger Twin

Have you ever kept a secret? I mean a really big one? One so big you swore to never tell it to anyone until you were on your death bed? Or even already dead?

Well, that’s what my mom did. She kept him a secret. For 18 years, I never met my other half. 

I found out when the lawyer read my mom’s will. His name was Mr. Something-or-other. I didn’t really care at the time so I never bothered to remember it. Anyway, when he read the will, it was the day after Mom died. I was tired from staying in the hospital room for nights on end and wasn’t really sure of what he was reading. It went in one ear and out the other. It was just a bunch of legal shit. None of which really mattered to an 18 year old whose mother just died. My mom was gone. I never knew my dad. I was all alone now. How was I supposed to listen to that shit when I was just so lost? 

Something the lawyer read made me perk up, though. 

He read that the money in Mom’s bank account was to be split between her two children, me and someone else. Someone named Spencer. 

I told the lawyer that there had to be a mistake. That I didn’t know a Spencer. And that Mom only had one kid, me. 

He paused for a moment, and then sat down next to me. His eyebrows furrowed, as if he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. It was scaring me. Did mom’s sickness make her go insane? She remembered my name, and the nurses’ names, and the hospital’s name. She couldn’t be insane, right? But then again, she was imaging that she had another kid. A son named Spencer. And sane people don’t make up random children. 

I don’t remember much of what happened next, it was too much to wrap my head around, and I was getting dizzy. But what I do know is that somehow the lawyer told me that he did some research after reading the will on his own the night before. It turns out I have a brother. No, not a brother. A twin. Whose name is Spencer. 

A twin that I never knew about.

A stranger twin.  

It turns out that my mom was pregnant with twins. Being a single mom, though, she didn’t think she could handle two kids at once. So she kept the girl and put the boy up for adoption. 

He was never adopted though. He was passed around from foster home to foster home until he turned 18. Well, until we turned 18. Now he lives in New Jersey. I live in California. It’s crazy how separated people can get. 

I had to contact him. I mean, I was legally obliged to since he was mentioned in Mom’s will. But I also felt the need to reach out to him. He is my twin, after all. How could I not?

I tried to find information about him online. I couldn’t find much, except for his Facebook page. That’s how we got into contact. 

Part of me was really nervous about him, though. Why would Mom hide him from me? Why didn’t she ever tell me? It’s all so strange. 

Anyway, that was a week ago. Now I’m sitting in the airport, waiting for Spencer to get off the plane. I bought him a ticket to get here with the money that Mom left for me. Or for us, I guess. 

It’s stifling hot in here. Or maybe that’s just me. God, I’m so nervous. I don’t really know why though. I didn’t know about Spencer for the first 18 years of my life, and I was just fine. Why do I care so much? That’s a stupid question, I know. Obviously I’m nervous. Twins are always described as being two parts that make up a whole. Have I been half of a person my entire life? I mean, I think I’ve been fine, but maybe that’s just because I don’t know anything other than what I’ve experienced. 

No, that’s stupid too. I’m just spiraling. He’s not a miracle worker. He’s not going to make my life suddenly magical. He’s just Spencer.

Just my twin. 

My stranger twin.

This is insane. 

I tried taking a walk earlier. And drinking water. Neither of which helped to calm my nerves. 

I don’t know why I tried so hard today. I spent at least an hour on my hair this morning: I straightened it, then decided I hated it, so I curled it. I decided I hated that too and straightened it again. I put on makeup, which I haven’t done since I found out that Mom was sick (about two years ago). And I put on a dress. Sure, it was just a simple sun dress, but I almost never wear dresses. At least I was still wearing my usual sneakers. 

He’s family. He shouldn’t care how I look. At the same time, though, I feel like I need to be perfect. This meet up needs to be perfect. We are supposed to complete each other. 

But how can that happen if we don’t even know each other?

And how am I supposed to greet him? Do we hug? I don’t think so, right?. I mean, he’s a stranger. Kind of. My twin is a stranger. This is completely bizarre. Do we shake hands? Or is that too formal? Maybe we just smile and wave. But shouldn’t twins be closer than that? I guess standard family norms don’t apply to Stranger Twins. 

Just then, someone made an announcement over the speakers. Shit. His flight just landed. I feel like I’m going to jump out of my own skin. The butterflies are taking over. Crap. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to try to calm myself down. It only half works. 

When I opened my eyes, a flood of people are walking through the airport. People who were on his flight. I look around for a little bit with my heart pounding in my ears. 

And then I saw him. 

Spencer.

My stranger twin.