Chapter 1
Kerrie Matthews frowned, aware she was leaving her dreamy sleep state and entering alertness—that odd moment when brain fog was hit with a cold wash of reality. Something felt off. Something had changed around her.
She opened her eyes to darkness. It felt late, as if the sun should be coming up soon. She turned her head to see what time it was on the digital clock by her bed. Only her eyes didn't land on the clock. However, her gaze landed on a large man standing beside her bed, hovering silently. Her heart leaped into her throat as she jumped back, clutching the comforter covering her thick body. "Shit!"
"Hey, Kerrie," her twin brother, Kenny, greeted her in his slightly high-pitched voice. He was rubbing his hand repeatedly over the top of his head, a telltale sign of anxiety.
"Kenny, Bubs, what have I—" she stopped, her sleep haze lifting enough to rein in her irritation. Yelling at him wouldn't help. He was seeking her out for comfort in his own way. Kenny didn't use many words, and she was used to reading between the lines. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Yeah," he answered simply, shifting from foot to foot.
She sighed, sitting up to push the covers back on the other side of her California king. The twins were tall, 6'3, and needed the extra legroom. Kenny's bed was the same size. "Get on in," she instructed, her southern drawl extra twangy in the early morning hours.
She could make out his outline in the faint light of her bedroom. They always kept a nightlight on in the hall for Kenny. She didn’t care for its low-light rays intruding on the comforting darkness of her room. He needed it more than she needed complete darkness, though, so sheput up with it.
He shuffled around her black leather-framed bed, his waddling gait unmistakable even in the darkened room. It wasn't the first time they'd bunked together. It was something they had done since birth, each other's main source of comfort, and after 52 years, she doubted it would ever stop.
Once he was laid down, she leaned over and tucked him in before settling back into her spot. Each other's presence made going back to sleep easier, and sleep took them both over without effort.
***
The smell of fried bacon permeated the kitchen, hanging over like a tasty cloud. Kerrie cracked an egg, dropping it into a frying pan along with a bit of shell. "Damn," she muttered as she dipped her finger to retrieve the offending white dot, burning the tip. "Double damn."
"Kerrie, bad word," admonished Kenny quickly.
"Sorry," she sighed, not sorry at all. The whole morning had been a circus, and if she wanted to curse at her age, she felt like it was acceptable, but since Mabel came to be his aide, Kenny had been a stickler for calling her out on cursing. Damned Mabel and her good influence. "Scrambled or fried, Bubs?"
"Scrambled."
She nodded approvingly, hoping he would pick that option because she wanted them as well. And they were faster to make. She broke the yolks with a spatula, swirling the yellow and white parts together. She glanced at him, noticing the shirt tag showing under his chin. He was standing at the back door, the white curtain pulled back, watching the squirrels in the backyard eat from the feeders while he waited for Mabel. "That squirrel is back."
"The white one?" she asked, grabbing a bag of sandwich bread from the cabinet and then fumbling it in midair as it slipped right from her hands to the floor. "Damnit."
"Kerrie," warned Kenny as soon as the swear was out of her mouth.
"Sorry," she mumbled. This morning had been more chaotic than usual.
Kerrie and Kenny Matthews were two peas in a pod. Even by twin standards, their closeness was evident. Together, they had weathered many storms. Survived things that only made them stronger.
Born two months early, they were dumped into the world by a mom and dad who didn't want them. Though Kerrie didn't have any cognition issues, Kenny did. She never got a straight answer as to whether or not he was born the way he was. Their mother had convinced her sister, the twins Aunt Laura, that it was a fever that got too high when he was two years old. However, Uncle Roy had told Kerrie once in a hushed voice that he thought that was just an excuse. Their mom had come up with a way to lessen the guilt of her son being born with a mental delay, a quietly talked about shame at the time. Southern folk tended to point out what others thought was a defect while not pointing the finger at themselves for similar things. No one was perfect, but they all pretended to be during Sunday morning church services.
Kenny had the cognitive development of a three- or four year-old and a heart of gold. Kerrie would do anything for him and protected him with everything she had. They never knew their father. Their mother had been an alcoholic and was in and out of their lives until she died of a massive heart attack. Laura and Roy were consistently there throughout their lives when their mom wasn't dragging them here and there from man to man. It never lasted, though, and they always ended up back at the house on Nixon Lane in the care and safety of Laura and Roy. The house that they had left upon their deaths to the twins and where Kerrie was currently panicking in the kitchen.
"Mabel's here," Kenny said, never taking his eyes off the window.
"Thank God," Kerrie mumbled as she popped some bread into the toaster.
After a couple of minutes, Kenny opened the door, and Mabel's gray, poofy hair ducked in. She was immediately engulfed in a bear hug by Kenny. Kerrie and Kenny were heavyset with thick arms and middles, but Kenny's legs were skinnier. Kerrie would gently tease him about having chicken legs. Both had short brown hair that tapered at the neck, with gray seeping in at the edges. They were huge compared to little Mabel, a wisp of a woman coming in at about 5'2 and couldn't possibly be more than 100 lbs.
"Okay, okay, Kenny. Let the old woman have some air," laughed Kerrie as she grabbed some plates from the cabinet.
"Are you having a rough morning, Kerrie?" asked Mabel as she set her purse on the old wooden kitchen table.
"What makes you ask that?"
Mabel looked over at Kenny, who grinned at her with wide eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Kenny, can you tell her what's wrong with this picture? Has she forgotten something?"
Kenny's grin increased as he pointed, letting out a stuttered laugh. "She forgot her pants, Mabel."
