Smoke and Mirrors

Double Trouble

Daniel and Simon sat opposite each other. The young boys were playing together while their mother was in the kitchen, fixing lunch.

"Mommy's going to be really mad at you," Daniel said, his voice still young and immature.

"Momma never gets mad at me," Simon countered, a mischievous little smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, you're right," Daniel agreed, his voice defeated.

I always get in trouble, why doesn't Mommy ever get mad with Simon?

Simon was the one who was always up to no good. The one that climbed where he shouldn't, drew on walls with crayons and pencils, cut the drapes with scissors, and of course, cut Daniel's hair. He was a very lively little boy.

Simon was into everything. He was overly playful and always made sure that Daniel would be the one to get into trouble.

Today was no different from any other day.

The twins were playing together and Simon grabbed a pen from the table where his mother had been sitting, writing a letter to her grandmother. (Grandma was incredibly old and didn't know how to use the thing called the Internet.)

"Simon, put it down before Mommy comes in."

"Doesn't matter," giggled Simon as he started playing tic-tac-toe on the wall behind their mother's desk.

"Stop it!" Daniel almost yelled, but he didn't want either of them to get into trouble.

Simon giggled again and Daniel rolled his eyes.

"I can't wait 'til school starts after vacation, then you can't get me into trouble," Daniel said, angrily.

"I'll get you into trouble wherever we are," Simon tormented him.

"Lunch," their mother called out as she walked into the room. Her eyes immediately went to Daniel who was sitting on the floor trying to put simple words together. Sounding them out as he held a children's book. "Daniel," their mother said. Her voice held warning. She knew that something wasn't right by the way Daniel's eyes were darting over to the wall then back down to the book.

"Yes, Mommy?" Daniel answered in his sweet cherub's voice.

"What's happening?" Her tone lowered, clearly agitated in expectation of some sort of misbehavior.

Simon giggled under the table as he sat and continued to draw on the wall.

"Nothing, Mommy," Daniel said, clearly not wanting to get his trouble-maker twin into hot water.

"Daniel!" His mother's voice was now quite irritated, and Daniel knew he was just about to get into trouble. "I'm going to the bathroom, and when I come back you better tell me what's happening."

His mother, a woman in her late thirties, had had trouble conceiving the twins. Her husband was a man who held great stature in society. He was a doctor at the hospital, heading up the emergency department, and was quite often away from home for long periods in the day.

He absolutely adored his wife, worshipping her whenever he was home, paying attention to her and loving her as any good husband would. However, his love for her went deeper than the normal man's for his wife. They had been high school sweethearts, and every day he loved her more than the day before. Not a single twenty-four hour period went by when he didn't call his wife, send her several, "I love you" text messages, or have flowers delivered to their home.

She was almost his obsession. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

So when they'd been married for twelve years, had seen the world together, and had established themselves financially and personally, she asked for a child.