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“It’s okay,” Betsey says. “Let me talk to Ella again for a quick sec.” Glad to be off the hook, I hand Ella the phone, then drop my face back into the pillow. I listen to Ella’s end of the conversation.
“Hi.
“I know.
“I know.
“What do you mean?
“Are you being serious right now?
“Yes, of course, but…
“She might. And then we’d all be dead.
“I don’t know, B.
“Ugh… I just don’t know.
“Maybe.
“Okay, fine, she would.
“Fine. But if she gets pissed, I’m going to burn your Birkenstocks.”
Ella laughs and I can hear Betsey laughing on the other end of the line.
“Okay, sounds good. Don’t forget to check the stain on my blue shirt before you pay, okay?
“I know, but last time they didn’t—
“Betsey, just do it!”
She listens for a long moment and then sighs.
“I know, I know.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her.
“Okay, bye.”
Ella disconnects the phone and I feel it thump onto the middle of the bed. She doesn’t say anything for so long that I finally pull up my head and look at her. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest and she’s staring at me with pity and a plan in her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“You’re doing evening tonight,” she says, matter-of-fact.
I bolt up to sitting, eyes wide. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, but WHAT?” I say. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying… are you?”
“She… we… feel really badly that you’re not getting your shot with Sean,” Ella says softly. “We want you to have this one night. So yeah, I’m saying what you think I’m saying.”
My heart pounds hard and fast in my chest. “We’re doing a switch.”
We used to try to trick Mom a lot when we were little. I’d wear Betsey’s favorite T-shirt or Ella would ask for my favorite food for dinner, just to see if she’d be able to tell. She always saw through our makeshift disguises, but we loved it. It was a game, and every time we were called out, we’d launch into a giggle fit cubed, then start plotting our next attempt. But as we got older, particularly when we were made to live as one person, silly switches became less fun.
