Another, and better, surprise.
He put his hand on her arm. “It will soon be over, Megan. Don’t worry.” He didn’t mind using her first name now, or risking touching her to comfort her. She was too miserable to object.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. It was time to end this mistaken identity and to let him know who she really was.
“I’m not Megan.” She said that in a soft voice, as she studied him.
He looked at her.
“I’m Cassie, her twin sister!” He never said a word. He’d suddenly frozen.
“Did you really think that I was, Meg?” She sounded hurt that he could possibly confuse her with her disreputable sister.
He was gobsmacked, to say the least, and he must have looked it. He was like a deer, caught full in the headlights, not sure which way to run. He was speechless for a moment as he thought about it.
‘Not Meg. Cassie’.
He knew about 'a', ‘Cassie’… his, Cassie, though he’d never properly met her. They’d lived in the same house but in two different worlds.
His mouth was suddenly dry. He began to analyse what he’d done and said to this other woman he’d been tending too, suddenly seeing her through different eyes. He had to close his eyes for a few moments as he re-adjusted his feelings and his thoughts.
That, explained so much, but he hadn’t known that there were two girls in that family, and certainly not that Megan had a twin sister. And not this… twin. Not Cassie, whom he’d known at a distance for the last ten years. There couldn’t have been two, more different twins. Why hadn’t his mother told him? Warned him.
Everything began to fall into place.
“Cassie?” He was suddenly both jubilant and apprehensive. His mouth had gone dry as he analysed what he had said and done up to this moment.
Bells went off in his brain, and he began to lose track of his thoughts as he recalled so many things all at once. He began to recall things that he remembered. Could this be the same Cassie? Of course, it was. She’d said as much. He’d known in his heart of hearts that it was true.
He began to ramble on, having no choice about putting his jumbled thoughts into words.
“There was a girl of that name, Cassie, in my life. We never met, but my mother constantly spoke of her while she lived with us, keeping me away from her, and shuffling me out of the house all of the time, lest I met her.”
"That was me."
Of course, it was.
His mother couldn’t allow them to meet.
“Despite that, we managed to form a bond. Cassie.”
He savored that name and the thoughts it conjured up for him. “She… you… were constantly in my thoughts. My mother even wrote to me about her… you… while I was away. I needed to know about you, and I was glad to encourage her to write of her… of you.”
He’d soon get the hang of it.
He wasn’t the only one that was hit hard by what he was recollecting as she listened to him, knowing for sure that she hadn’t been wrong about him back then, and she hadn’t misinterpreted anything, but without them actually meeting… as they had now… and speaking face to face as they now could do… it had never seemed real.
She wanted to cry with happiness.
“Cassie stayed with us a lot after … her own family…” his voice trailed off. He was still having difficulty putting the two of these individuals together… the memory, with this, this, naked Goddess.
He began to feel concerned, and even scared, at the feelings that were washing over him and that she must be able to see in his face. He wasn’t safe for her. She wasn’t safe with him.
So much began to fall into place. This girl… this woman, was… ‘her’… the woman in front of him!
Everything connected and continued to fall into place.
He was caught flatfooted for once in his life. He’d actually never met her, this… Cassie. His mother had seen to that. And this was her! He was still recovering, stumbling and fumbling with his thoughts and his words.
“I… I was writing exams, and I was never home until late. In the morning, I waited for you both to leave the house, before I could shower. I always wondered, all of that time you stayed with us, why I was never allowed to meet you in any way… never actually met you, face to face, and why we didn’t eat together, but then I was rarely home with what I had on my plate.”
His mother had made sure they were kept apart too. His mother had been very protective of her.
A vulnerable thirteen-year old girl with a well-developed body, even then (he knew that about her from the clothes that he saw lying out on her bed after she’d gone to school, and in the laundry), and a youth whose hormones were permanently in orbit.
He’d learned everything about her at distance, even knowing when she was at that difficult time of month. He’d been deeply interested in everything about her. She’d been unattainable.
He continued with what he recollected.
“You were in the guest room for almost all of that summer while I was finishing off at high school, and getting a start on medical school. I helped my father out, and he kept me busy. I was never home. Mom made sure of that. I held down a couple of jobs too, that kept me away most weekends—restocking shelves, and I was also grounds man, for a time, at the golf course. I used to sleep there. Everything began so early, and then my evenings were occupied too.
His mother, again.
“I sometimes saw you in the dark of your bedroom when I got home late, exhausted. I was curious, seeing you lying there, but we still didn’t meet, or connect, anywhere.”
He was talking too much. He must sound like an idiot.
She rescued him, adding her own thoughts of that time, sensing his favorable memories of her, just like hers had been of him.
“I saw you go by my open bedroom door… I was a very light sleeper.”
They never closed any of the bedroom doors in their house. The excuse given, was that his father had to be able to hear the phone in the surgery, ringing, or someone banging at the front door, late at night, although he had caved in and got a cellphone too, that was left on his bedside table.
Old habits, died hard.
His mother was also terrified of fire. She’d had to escape a house fire when she’d been a girl, in her nightclothes, so she preferred that bedroom doors not be fully closed, or locked. She also had smoke detectors throughout the house.
He hadn’t been fooled by any of that. They slept with their bedroom door wide open so that they knew what was going on; were able to identify every creaking board, every movement that went on in the house after he got home.
Cassie touched him on the hand, bringing him back into the world she was in.
“You were always dead to the world when I went by your room, too, to go to the bathroom. We never met, as I would have liked, but our paths crossed all of the time. You wouldn’t have seen me, anyway, I was only a thirteen-year-old, girl.”
She was wrong about that. He’d been intensely interested in her! Too interested. His mother had said something about her being scared of boys, and something about bad experiences, and that he should keep out of her way and stay remote. So, he had. But that warning hadn’t been enough to achieve what she wanted.
She’d also been more outspoken too, after that, telling him that if he laid a finger on her, she’d cut his balls off one night. He’d never heard his mother speak like that before, but he knew that look. She meant it. His mother ruled the roost in their house, and she didn’t mind being outspoken in order not to be misunderstood about something so important.
He had to promise her that he would stay away from Cassie. He had lots of other things to do, anyway.
“You were a well-developed thirteen, from what I could see of the clothes lying out on your bed. I also I watched you walk away with my mother when you went to school.” Her hips had swayed, setting his emotions churning, and drying out his mouth.
She didn’t look that ‘damaged’, or insecure.
“You lived with my mother in our house, all of that time, and I never did get to meet you. It was deliberate on my mother’s part. How she managed so well to keep us apart, I don’t know.”
He did know!
Cassie could add to that conversation. She’d seen right off the bat, that he hadn’t recognised her as she had recognised and known him, from the photographs she’d seen around their house and by following everything he did, through his mother’s letters to her.
She and his mother had exchanged a lot of letters after Cassie had moved away.
He was happy to listen to her, feeling immense relief that he wasn’t dealing with Megan, no matter what that incoming call had suggested.
“Your mother was my teacher through several grades, when I was in school. She got me fired up to become a teacher just like her, so I did, but that was after I went to live with an aunt in another town, after I left high school. I lived with your family most of the time you were in medical school. You never seemed to come home.”
He’d been too busy.
“I never did forget you.”
He’d never forgotten her, either.
“You often paused and looked into my room late at night when you got home. I was scared at first, not sure why you did that. But then I realized you were as curious about me, as I always was about you. I expect us, knowing nothing about each other at a distance, had that effect. I think your mother kept us apart so as not to break your concentration, or to sidetrack you from what you were doing.”
It hadn’t been that simple or innocent, but his mother wouldn’t have told her that, or explained what his ambition had been with her, if only he could have got her alone. He was a horny sod. He’d never masturbated so much as when he thought of her, dreaming of her doing that for him… as a start.
She’d already distracted him enough, just by being out of reach and unapproachable… and having that threat of his mother’s, hanging over his head. He’d been ‘attached’, to his balls.