“I’m a carbon copy of you, silly,” Izzy said in a quiet tone.
“You do amazingly resemble me. It’s a little creepy. We could swap clothes and you could take my place. We’ll swap lives for a while,” I said with a laugh. If she only knew how I wished we could. Like we did when we were kids. There was only one person we could never fool. We tried. We tried many times and she always knew. Our mother could tell us apart from fifty feet away.
Izzy dropped her eyes and crossed her ankle over her knee. “Yeah, you wouldn’t want my life.”
“Don’t tell me that, Izz. I’ve always pictured you with a really cool job, happy and in love.”
“It’s sort of that way,” she said through a lie. Even after all these years, I could tell she wasn’t telling me the truth.
“What have you been doing? Tell me? Did you go to school?”
“I did go to school. Want to know what for?”
A concrete smirk froze on my lips. “Duh! Of course.”
“Business, landscaping, and design.”
My heart felt a pang of longing, but I wasn’t sure what for. Missing all of that, or wanting it. I never got to go to college. “I’m not surprised by that. You were just like mom. Always needing to be on the move and outside. I can see you doing that. So you have your own business?”
Izzy played with the strap on her sandal with a troubled expression. I internally smiled when I realized her shoes were almost identical to mine. Other than the gold buckle, mine were just likes hers. Her closed-mouth grin faded into a frown, and then it returned. “Nah, not really. I tried it, but it didn’t really take off. I live in Michigan; not really the market for something like that. I need to move to Los Angeles or something. Ya know?”
“Is that the plan?” I questioned, returning her frown.
Izzy sighed, a look of shame and disappointment marring her face. But then she smiled. “I doubt it. I don’t know. It takes a lot of money. I’m working as a waitress on the side. Weekend tips pay pretty good.” Izzy’s grin wasn’t convincing. It seemed fake. Something weighed heavy on her mind. I could tell Izzy had trying events in her life, too. I wanted to hear all about it, every last detail of the past thirteen years. Everything.
“Oh, yeah? Where?” I tried not to sound depressed. I wanted her to have the fairytale, the one where she was happy, in love, and successful. I suddenly thought of Paxton and his fury. The digital clock screamed for me to turn around and go home where I belonged.
Izzy laughed and jiggled her boobs. “Hooters.”
I giggled and glanced away from the clock. I need this time with her.
“You’re doing all right for yourself. I love your house, the neighborhood, the beach. You live by a beach! Oh, my God, Gabby,” she said with happy excitement.
“I know. Who would have thought, right? Do you have someone, Izzy? Are you married, kids?”
Izzy playfully drummed a rimshot off the dashboard with two fingers, the kind a drummer plays after a joke. “No kids, and I just got out of an eight-month relationship. Before that, I was just a slut, trying to drink you away.”
She meant it to be cute and happy. I didn’t feel that way. “That makes me sad, Izz. You drink?”
“Nah, not much. I’m fine. I had a decent upbringing. I’ve made mistakes, but hey, who hasn’t, right?”
I stared up the street and agreed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. I want to hear all about these little girls.”
The market loomed ahead on the right. I knew with everything in me that I should turn in, go to the store, drop Izzy back off at her car, and go home. That’s what I should have done.
The pit of my stomach balled and tightened. A gut feeling. That dreaded instinct when you know you’re doing something wrong, or you can sense something bad about to happen. I passed the parking lot with a deep sigh.
It was worth it. I would deal with Paxton later. For an afternoon with my sister, I would face Paxton’s wrath. With no direction in mind, I drove through town and took the next right. My nerves jerked a little when I realized I’d driven way past my boundaries. Paxton would be furious when he checked my mileage. I had gone past my seven-mile allowance within minutes. Three point two miles each way. That gave me a little bit in case I needed to detour around a block or something. I was at nine. That was two miles over.
“Remember when mama would pull us out of bed in the middle of the night, needing to run. The stupid games we played on our way to our next destination?”
My lips turned upward while thinking about it, allowing the memory to creep back in. “Do you think she really ever knew where we were going?”
“Hell no. Why do you think we slept in the car half our life?”