The Twins

The Twins

Born on the cusp of Taurus and Gemini, five minutes apart and as opposite as night and day. Sandra was light-skinned, had blonde hair, a quiet smiler, and blue eyes; unlike usual black children, Sally was chestnut, chubby, and a crier with black curly locks. If I had not been one of the nurses assisting in the delivery room, I would not have believed they were sisters. They live three doors down on the right in this apartment complex, so I think that is why I feel invested in their lives, or maybe it’s because their mother suffered a stroke during the delivery. They came home two weeks ago, and their dad said he was walking to the store three days ago, leaving the girls with their eighty-two-year-old great grandma.

Bonnie, their mom, has been my friend since the sixth grade. We were instant friends because you know that saying, the enemy of my enemy is a friend. We had assigned seats next to each other for the next two years only by coincidence, mostly. Biology class and English class, and by the fifth period, Art class, we chose to sit together. In some classes, it was easier to achieve this feat than in others, but we figured out ways to convince teachers that we should be able to sit together in the front of the class. One or both would wear glasses and must be close to the chalkboard. By the time we were in the ninth grade in high school, we no longer needed the excuses.

Like us, our parents were friends for years. Our lives were different after a drunk driver killed our parents. I ended up in foster care, and she had her grandma. Even then, we were only a block away. Looking back over the last thirty years, I can only think of a few times that we were not together. After graduation, I went to the Army because the government promised travel, adventure, and free education. I came back for holidays, birthdays, and everything in between, and Grandma G welcomed me on every visit just like I was her granddaughter too. After I left the Army, Bonnie recommended me to her boss when the department searched for a labor and delivery nurse with O.R. experience.

Before she went to the hospital, she named me the twins’ godmother. Bonnie is on life support, and I don’t want to pull the plug, but I am listed as her next of kin. Neither of us has siblings, and our parents are deceased. Yesterday when I talked to Grandma G, she said the hospital is doing testing on Monday, looking for brain waves. If there are no changes, they will disconnect her and declare the time of her death. I’ve been praying since I left the apartment. I didn’t think I would go from friend to mother in less than a month. I love children, but I never thought about parenthood after being wounded in Iraq and having my uterus removed, so I had made peace with that. That was thirteen years ago. She saw my marriage fall apart, let me cry on her shoulder, and never said I told you or bad mouth him. I held her when her husband died two years ago. We’ve seen every good thing in each other’s lives and the worst. I don’t want to imagine life without her.

Right now, there is some brain activity. So, the doctors have decided to continue to monitor Bonnie. Grandma G and I are going to make this work. Hiring a nanny is the first order of business. The future isn’t clear but looking for a four-bedroom house with no steps. When Bonnie wakes up, she’ll owe me a vacation. For now, we’re going to keep one of the apartments so whoever isn’t on duty with the twins can have a weekend or week off.

Each day the twins keep us on our toes. It seems as if they have traded bodies; Sandra, the quiet one, had figured out that Sally got attention when she cried now they both are criers. Both of them show signs of curly brownish hair. Sally seems to be getting lighter. Sandra’s complexion is changing, too; she’s getting darker. I think every time someone holds one of the twins, about the fact that their mother has never held them. How will this affect the twins as they grow up?

Hopefully, not like the twins we went to school with, the Key boys, James and Jackson. The Key twins lost their mom an hour after birth and, unfortunately, grew up in foster care. Although some foster parents try to be present and give attention, it’s not the same as the love of a mom. Talking about opposites, Jackson was a good student, a volunteer, and an athlete. James was always skipping school, scheming, and scamming. James went to jail, and Jackson went to college. Jackson loved his brother, but he would not delude himself. After a year of taunts and torture from behind bars, Jackson refused to accept phone calls from the City Jail. Every job Jackson applied for that required a background check led back to family DNA. His brother’s criminal charges kept casting doubts about who, what, and when. Eventually, Jackson had to change his name and move to another state.

Grandma G and I will not let the twins lack their mom’s love. Every day while they were still in the hospital, we would take them to her room and lay them on her lap. The doctors didn’t know if they were the reason why she was still hanging on, but they allowed the visits to continue as long as her vital signs remained stable. One doctor told me that he was glad we were doing this, but he would deny it in the presence of his colleagues. I looked at the monitor registering brain waves every time one of the babies cried or squirmed, and there was movement.