Spitting image, p.5
Spitting Image, page 5
On one hand, he loved the idea. More family.
But on the other, Everett had nothing to share in return. His brothers wanted nothing to do with him, so they sure as hell wouldn’t want anything to do with Evan.
The Ds would welcome Evan into their lives.
Everett wiped the sweat from his eyes again and conceded defeat. He felt like he was on the edge of heatstroke.
Dammit. He turned on the AC, mopped the puddle of sweat from his brow, and got back to thinking.
Where was he?
They were both restaurateurs, so maybe they could open a place together in Las Orillas. It could even be twin-themed. But not cheesy. No Dollywood vibes or anything like that. Their place would be classy, reservations only and always a waiting list. Authentic Mexican food only. Maybe the twin hook could be in the plating. Every dish had a yin and a yang. From chips and salsa to corn and flour.
Unless Everett was getting it totally wrong.
The more he explored the idea, the more he doubted himself. He hadn’t been this uncomfortable in a long time. He wanted to pull off the highway and get something to eat. Stretch his legs. Turn the podcast up so he could get the questions out of his head.
What if he’s not home?
What are you saying to Clara and Jimi?
Maybe you should work on your issues at home before driving out to Austin?
The Ds might be right; Everett might be making a big mistake.
It wasn’t too late to turn around.
Except that he would feel the humiliation forever.
And Everett wasn’t a quitter. Not anymore.
But maybe it was weird to appear unannounced, even if he was showing up with the best possible news.
He didn’t even have a gift.
What if gaining a brother wasn’t enough of a present?
Obviously, it wasn’t. Evan would probably feel blindsided at first. His family definitely would, too.
A gift for all of them — something that would allow Everett to join in the fun as the newest member of the family.
Maybe a croquet set?
No, that would be dumb, the kids were teenagers. And Evan was so successful. What would he not already have that Everett could afford?
It was also intimidating how well Evan had done. He didn’t brag about it on Livelyfe, but his wife did, in a #blessed way.
Her gorgeous kitchen, the pool, and an elegant guest house behind the main house. Their rooms were filled with things Everett didn’t have and couldn’t buy. Every one of the three cars in their driveway made his Aspire look like it belonged in a junkyard.
What could he possibly give to a family like that?
As if by magic, the billboard ahead announced a Tucson mall at the next exit. Perfect. He’d lose a little time, but that would be worth it if he was getting a gift for the person who was about to change his life.
Happy birthday to both of them.
But at the mall, Everett discovered that his time scrolling through Livelyfe hadn’t really told him anything about his brother’s likes and dislikes. A generic gift like wine wouldn’t feel special enough to reflect the deep connection he wanted Evan to feel.
He should get back on the road and use all that alone time in the car to think up the a present.
But on the way to the exit, Everett realized he’d been thinking about the gift in the wrong way. If he wanted to find something that embodied their twin connection, he needed only to ask what he would want.
The answer came immediately — the new virtual reality gaming system, Infinite Fidelity. They could get to know each other while playing HardCorps together — Everett helping Evan remember how to have fun, while Evan shared the secrets of his success.
Even better, every time he ever played with the Infinite Fidelity, either now in the future, alone or with his family, Evan would think of his twin brother.
Five hundred bucks wasn’t exactly cheap, but this was a momentous occasion. A once-in-a-lifetime happening.
Everett went the nearest directory, found Gameway on the map, and nearly cheered when he saw that the store was right behind him.
He locked eyes with the clerk as he entered. “I’d like an Infinite Fidelity, please.”
“Sure,” she said, with zero emotion, accent, or affect. “With or without the game bundle?”
“How much is it with the game bundle?”
“$799.”
“Without, please.”
“With or without the warranty?”
“How much is the warranty?”
“$149.”
“Without, please. How many headsets and controllers does it come with?”
She looked at Everett as if he were either nuts or an idiot. “One.”
“Oh. And how much are additional controllers?”
“They come with the headset,” she explained. “It’s one unit.”
“So …”
“Additional units are $499.”
Everett smiled. “I guess I’ll take two.”
Sure, his heart was pounding and his palms were sweating, because it was seriously bonkers to drop this much money right now. But if he was willing to spend $500 on a gift for his twin brother, why wouldn’t he make the appropriate twin-sized purchase and also get one for himself?
This was what life would be like from now on. Money would be easier to make and more fun to spend. He had just given himself a chance to practice.
The clerk gave Everett the total and he tried not to swallow his tongue.
He finished paying, gripped his precious cargo, one bag per hand, then left the Gameway.
He exited the mall and stepped into the most sweltering heat of his life. His car was four rows over from where he thought he’d parked, and it felt like he might melt into the asphalt before he could get there.
He opened the car door, singeing his fingertips. It was even hotter inside — he couldn’t touch the steering wheel.
He started the engine, cranked the AC, and waited for the cabin to cool off enough to finally put the car in drive and haul ass out of the mall parking lot.
Everett pulled back onto the freeway.
And there he sat with the mall on his right, going nowhere for the next forty minutes. An accident had clogged the freeway while he’d been shopping.
He finally moved, the Aspire inching forward as its AC started to die.
Chapter Eight
The New Mexico heat was oppressive and unrelenting. Everett couldn’t turn back. The only way to get where he wanted to go was through what felt like a literal hell.
But Everett wasn’t a quitter. Never would be again.
So he kept his sweat-drenched hands on the wheel and his feet playing pat-a-cake with the gas and brake. He kept sipping water that was almost hot enough to make tea and telling himself that he would get where he needed to be one mile at a time.
But all that positive self-talk finally started to thin around Las Cruces.
It was boiling inside the car, and nearly all of the dashboard warning lights were on.
He drove for another twenty miles, just to prove that he wasn’t afraid, but he couldn’t help imagining himself dying of heat stroke by the side of the road after his bottle of water ran out. The Aspire would die if he didn’t give it time to cool down soon.
He got off the highway in Las Cruces, hoping to find a Chipotle.
Instead he found a place called El Guapo’s that advertised the best two-pound burrito in New Mexico! Lunch was delicious, but Everett ate it while worrying, suddenly having to work much harder to convince himself that even if he made it to Austin without any more problems, he might show up at the wrong time, or that maybe he wouldn’t be welcome regardless of when he knocked on the door.
He needed the Ds to be wrong about this.
But what if his twin connection to Evan wasn’t enough to overcome decades of separation? He wanted to curse the person who’d decided to split them up.
Back in the parking lot, he opened the passenger side door of his car and grabbed his phone from the glove compartment. The phone was hot, so he wrapped it in the bottom of his T-shirt before turning it on.
Nothing from the Ds. Nothing from Lena either, which was good — she must have taken care of the leak. But there was a text from Clara.
He’d been so busy preparing to travel that he’d forgotten to call. That’s what he told himself. But there was a difference between not calling and ignoring her call. He should have at least texted to let Clara and Jimi know where he was going, and how long he expected to be gone. Then she’d have no reason to be angry if it took him a while to respond.
Now he was in a tough place. The last thing Everett wanted to do was call before connecting with his brother. He wanted a successful trip first. Clara would take it much better if Everett could tell her something about Jimi’s new extended family. Once she saw him get his life together, there’d be time for them to rediscover the feelings that had brought them together in the first place. What better gift for Jimi than to give him a new family and heal his current one?
Everett looked forward to that conversation, playing it out in his head as he walked to the All-Mart across the street from the burrito place and bought some coolant.
But his luck gave out soon after he poured it into the radiator. After forty-five minutes back on the highway, the Aspire started in on a series of unsettling sounds. First a squealing, followed by a squeaking, different from the hissing and sizzling from when he’d first pulled over. At one point, there was definitely a sloshing, followed by a POP! that made him jump in his seat.
Everett didn’t know what any of those sounds meant, but he was determined to keep going until he passed the Texas border into El Paso. So he ignored the warning lights and kept his eyes on the road, repeatedly assuring himself that everything would be fine.
Just forty more miles.
Twenty, ten, five.
The AC had totally stopped working and the Aspire sounded like an orchestra of danger by the time he finally pulled off the highway in El Paso a bit before seven in the evening, arriving at a mechanic’s shop called The Extra Mile about five minutes later. Their sign read, Fast service and fair prices. You’ll be happy. Everett liked all three of those promises, so he swung into the lot and parked his Aspire, wondering how many more miles he had in the beast before she finally died on him altogether.
There were two customers waiting ahead of him. But at least the shop had air conditioning inside.
“I’m sure I can help you,” said Steve, the mechanic, a half hour later. “But it’s getting late, and I can’t promise that I’ll be able to look before tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Steve looked at his watch, slightly less friendly.
Everett had just under six hundred miles to go. If the mechanic fixed the Aspire first thing, he could still make it to Austin in time for a special birthday dinner.
“Fine. Tomorrow it is.”
Steve finished filling out the paperwork, turned it around for Everett to sign, then tore off the page and handed it over.
He would need to get a place to stay for the night. Start out early in the morning. That would be better anyway. His original plan had him driving all night to reach Austin in the early morning. But he could still arrive on his birthday — their birthday — and Evan would already have celebrated with his family. So the evening could be just the two of them. And Everett would surely enjoy that a lot more if he were rested.
He got out his phone, started looking for a nearby room that wouldn’t break him, and ten minutes later found a place that seemed overpriced considering its three-stars, but certainly fine for one night.
But the next morning, when Everett called the shop, Steve told him that he hadn’t started fixing the Aspire’s AC, because apparently he’d needed to special order a part.
Everett would need to rent a car, if he was going to make it to Austin before their birthday was over.
Maybe this was an opportunity in disguise. The Aspire would be an embarrassment parked in front of Evan’s beautiful home. It belonged in a trailer park, not a wealthy Austin suburb.
And first impressions were everything.
So Everett rented a stunning black Mustang.
And that made him feel like a new man. More like the man his twin brother would probably expect him to be.
Finally, his luck had turned.
* * *
Everett wandered through the aisles of an El Paso Buc-ee’s, trying not to gape. He’d seen plenty of billboards for the Texas roadside Mecca a moment after crossing the border, but he hadn’t understood what the fuss was until now.
The place was the size of a Costco, with well over a hundred fuel bays. The interior was even more miraculous, considering that the place was a gas station. Buc-ee’s had the country’s cleanest bathrooms, just as advertised. The place sold everything from brisket burgers and burritos to lawn chairs and firewood. But their best item — a national treasure, really — were the Beaver Nuggets.
It was like eating a bag of the best cereal he’d ever had. Sweet enough to tickle his cavities. The texture was half cheese puff and half packing peanut. He couldn’t get enough.
By the time he’d eaten half a bag, Everett realized he should’ve bought more, not just for himself, but for his new family.
* * *
A half hour later, he still hadn’t spied a billboard for another Buc-ee’s, but he did see something that made him second-guess his present wardrobe: a giant sign for a place called Redford Creek. The place where Texas gets dressed!
Looking down at his sweat-stained jeans, T-shirt and hoodie, Everett realized that there was nothing Texas about him at all. All three items were frayed, but until a moment ago, he hadn’t thought of that as a problem. His clothes were supposed to look lived-in.
But he was in Texas now, and suddenly afraid of looking shabby in front of his new family.
He tried to remember what the Shepherds had been wearing in their social media posts, but he couldn’t picture a single outfit. Everett had focused on how happy everyone looked, and how amazing their lives seemed.
Everett used to care about what he wore, frittering away more than a few of his paychecks at Huntington Surf & Sport, back before he owned his own business. Clara always complained that he looked like a hipster man-child, which didn’t even make any sense. There was nothing “hipster” about board shorts and soft cotton tees.
“You’ve never even been on a surfboard,” she used to argue. “I don’t understand why you want the world to think you spend your life braving the waves.”
But Clara never got it, no matter how many times Everett tried to explain that he was proud of his state and the culture it inspired. He wore brands like Quicksilver and Kanvis by Katin like badges of honor.
She’d wanted him to be someone more generic, dragging him to Banana Republic whenever they had a sale, forcing him to buy clothes he never felt comfortable wearing.
Everett had only gone shopping a couple of times since the divorce. Time and money were scarce these days. But really, he had also stopped caring. His last trip into Huntington Surf & Sport, the clothes had felt too expensive. He’d wondered if the style was no longer right for him. But Everett didn’t know if that’s how he really felt, or if that was just Clara’s opinion rattling around in his head.
The more he considered it, the more self-conscious he got. And all those billboards for Redford Creek kept making things worse. He’d seen four so far, with the last one announcing that the fashion superstore was coming up in another few exits.
Everett didn’t care that it was his birthday, but he did care that it was Evan’s. His twin would probably be throwing a party, and if so, everyone would probably be wearing their Texas best. His shabby T-shirt and hoodie might be fine for a campfire at a California beach party, but he’d look like a slob sitting in Evan’s expensive living room.
NEXT EXIT!, the final billboard announced. Last chance for the BEST DEALS in the place where TEXAS GETS DRESSED! A hat and boots will make a whole new YOU!
Of course Everett knew that a hat and boots wouldn’t really turn him into a different person. But it would be a nice start, especially considering the life-changing adventure he was about to embark on. Everett was going to meet his long-lost brother. His twin brother. He should put in the effort. Do the whole Texas thing. Prove to Evan that his twin really understood him.
He flipped on his blinker, crossed two lanes of traffic, and exited the freeway before he could change his mind. Everett hated losing even more time than he already had, but better to say adios to another half hour or so than to make a bad first impression.
The emporium, or whatever a place this big was supposed to be called, sat adjacent to the freeway, occupying what looked like a hundred acres and a parking lot the size of a small community college. Everett looked up at the giant effigies, visible from the freeway but much more imposing when seeing them up close from his parking space. A handsome couple, the man in jeans, a dignified yet colorful shirt in several shades of blue, and a wide-brimmed hat. His wife, or girlfriend, or dance partner, leaned against his shoulder, looking like a hippie cowgirl in a flowing skirt and fringed vest. She wore a matching hat, though hers was much smaller. Almost cute.
Everett started second-guessing himself after only a few moments inside. The place was expensive. He’d assumed the clothes would be relatively cheap. People in this part of the country probably couldn’t afford to spend as much. But most of the shirts at Redford Creek cost even more than the stuff at Huntington Surf & Sport.
The boots were ridiculous. And the hats even more so.
Yet, if he was going to do this thing, then boots and a hat seemed non-negotiable. He thought about maybe only getting the accessories, but after looking at himself in the full-length mirror, Everett couldn’t deny that both the boots and hat looked ludicrous with his hoodie and skinny jeans.
“You look like you need some help,” came a soft voice behind him.
Everett turned from the mirror, wondering how long the clerk had been standing there.
