two sisters
Two Sisters
Catherine woke at exactly 6:30, as she did every morning.
Her alarm chimed softly from the nightstand, but she was already awake enough to reach over and silence it.
For a moment, she stayed underneath her fuzzy blue blanket, staring at the ceiling.
Then her eyes drifted toward the picture frame beside her bed.
It was a photograph of her and her twin sister, Claire.
They had been inseparable since the day they were born.
Twins.
Best friends.
And, according to practically everyone who knew them, completely different people.
They did have a lot in common.
They both loved fashion.
They both loved school.
And they both had what their parents called a stationery problem.
Catherine preferred to call it an appreciation for organization.
Claire preferred to call it a collection.
Between the two of them, they probably owned enough notebooks, pens, sticky notes, folders, ribbons, and little decorative paper clips to open a stationery store.
But that was where their similarities started to disappear.
Catherine loved blue.
Baby blue. Powder blue. Navy. Sapphire. If it came in blue, she probably wanted it.
She loved high heels, polished skirts, pretty blouses, and—most importantly—hearts.
There were hearts on her notebooks.
Hearts on her phone case.
A heart-shaped mirror on her dresser.
Heart-shaped earrings.
She even had heart-shaped sticky notes.
Claire, on the other hand, belonged to the world of lavender.
She loved flowy skirts, soft fabrics, ballerina flats, ribbons, and headbands. Her clothes always seemed to move when she did, as though she carried a little breeze around with her.
Catherine liked things that were structured.
Claire liked things that flowed.
And when it came to love, they couldn’t have been more different.
Catherine believed she understood love perfectly.
At least, she thought she did.
She reached toward her nightstand and picked up a heart-shaped picture frame.
Inside was a photograph of her and Preston.
Preston.
Her boyfriend.
The perfect guy.
Or, at least, that’s what Catherine had always thought.
She smiled at the photograph before setting it back down.
“Perfect,” she murmured.
Then she caught herself smiling.
Today was supposed to be one of the most important days of their lives.
Graduation.
After years of studying, late-night projects, exams, debates, and far too many trips to the stationery store, Catherine and Claire were finally going to find out what came next.
Law school.
They had dreamed about it for years.
Catherine loved the law because she loved figuring things out. Give her a complicated argument, a disagreement, or a problem nobody else could solve, and she was immediately interested.
She loved the rush of building an argument and defending it.
She loved winning.
Especially when she was right.
Catherine glanced toward the little statue of the Infant of Prague sitting on her dresser.
She folded her hands.
“Jesus, please help me and Claire with our dreams and our vocations. Help us know where we’re supposed to go. Amen.”
She smiled, grabbed her blue robe, and climbed out of bed.
Across the hall, Claire had already been awake for an hour.
She sat on the back porch with a warm bowl of oatmeal in front of her and a lavender latte between her hands.
The morning sun spilled across the porch.
Claire took a slow sip and looked out toward the neighboring property.
A deer had wandered near the feeder and was quietly eating.
Claire smiled.
She loved mornings like this.
Quiet.
Warm.
Simple.
She rested her chin in her hand.
Today.
After all these years, today was finally here.
She thought about everything she and Catherine had worked for.
The late nights.
The exams.
The ridiculous amount of studying.
The dreams they’d had since they were little girls.
Claire smiled when she imagined her sister still asleep inside, probably wrapped so tightly in her fuzzy blue blanket that she looked like a cocoon.
Catherine could sleep through almost anything.
Claire couldn’t.
Her mind was always moving.
She took another sip of her latte.
She wanted to help people.
She wanted to fight for peace and justice.
She wanted to stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves.
More than anything, Claire wanted her life to mean something.
And, perhaps because she spent so much time thinking about other people’s hearts, Claire spent an unfortunate amount of time thinking about her own.
Especially when it came to boys.
Her sister’s taste in boys, in Claire’s opinion, was questionable.
But Claire’s taste?
Probably worse.
At least, that’s what Catherine always told her.
Claire had spent the last few years imagining what the right person might be like.
Patient.
Kind.
Humble.
Someone who wanted to help people.
Someone who cared more about doing the right thing than looking impressive.
Someone who would never make her feel foolish for being soft-hearted.
Someone who loved God.
Someone who made her feel safe enough to be completely herself.
She sighed.
Maybe someday.
But lately, Claire hadn’t been interested in anyone.
And honestly, she wasn’t sure she minded.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a phone.
She looked toward the kitchen.
Then toward the hallway.
Then she heard her sister’s voice.
“Hey, baby.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
Preston.
Of course.
She shook her head.
My sister has no idea what romance is.
A few moments later, Catherine appeared through the back door, already dressed and somehow looking perfectly put together.
Claire looked her up and down.
“You’re wearing heels this early?”
Catherine glanced at her shoes.
“Of course.”
“It’s seven in the morning.”
“And?”
Claire laughed.
Catherine walked over and kissed the top of her head.
“Hey, sugar.”
“Hey.”
Claire looked at her sister.
Then at the heart-shaped phone case.
Then at the photograph of Preston Catherine had carried downstairs.
She sighed.
Her taste in boys is horrible.
“Catherine.”
“What?”
“Are you sure about Preston?”
Catherine raised an eyebrow.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. It’s graduation day.”
“I know.”
“Then today is a happy day.”
Claire smiled.
“Okay.”
For a moment, they sat together quietly.
Two sisters.
Two completely different girls.
One blue.
One lavender.
Both dreaming about the same future.
Then a voice came from inside the house.
“Catherine! Claire! Are you two ready?”
The sisters looked at each other.
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Catherine stood.
“We have to go.”
“Right.”
Claire jumped up so quickly that she nearly knocked over her latte.
Catherine grabbed her purse.
Claire grabbed her headband.
They hurried toward the house.
Then Claire stopped.
“Wait!”
Catherine turned around.
“What?”
Claire looked horrified.
“My notebook.”
Catherine stared at her.
“Claire.”
“It’s my graduation notebook.”
“You have twelve notebooks.”
“This is the graduation notebook.”
Catherine sighed.
“Of course it is.”
She walked back toward her sister.
“Come on, lavender girl.”
Claire smiled and followed her.
Neither sister knew it yet, but by the end of the day, everything they thought they knew about their future was about to change.
