Election [Laurinah]

Twins

September 18th 1989 

Lauren trotted into the kitchen, holding the sticky painting between her chubby fingertips. It was a Saturday morning and she'd just spent two hours in her bedroom painting, in as much accuracy as she could, a picture of her mom. She enjoyed art a lot. At recess when the others kids played tag or bulldog in the playground, she chose to stay inside and paint. She liked it because it was quiet and she had full access to all the colours. She could make sure all the caps were kept on and that the paintbrushes were washed so they didn't harden, as it frustrated her when the others kids were careless enough not to. If your paintbrushes are hard you can't paint! It was logic to her. 

Today she had wanted to do something special for her mommy because recently Lauren felt like she wasn't proud of her. Whenever Lauren told her she hadn't made any new friends aside from Timmy, her mom sighed and look frustrated, doing that thing where she clicks her tongue."You're seven years old Lauren, you need to start making proper friends."

Lauren had been confused at that. What made Timmy not proper? "Timmy's real and he's my friend!" She'd protested.

Her mom had rolled her eyes. "Yes I know he's real- thank god- " She'd muttered. "But you know he's not quite right."

Right? What made something right or wrong? Lauren had always wondered that. Was it wrong if her mom thought so? Or if her dad thought so? Did both have to think it was wrong? She knew something was wrong if it made another person sad or angry. Did it matter what she thought was wrong or right? 

Timmy was her favourite person apart from her brother. She liked him because he was sweet to her and he didn't ever talk, not one word, so he wasn't annoying like all the other kids. Timmy always gave her a thumbs up when he thought her painting was good, and he listened to music with her when none of the other kids in her class cared about music. She's bring her walkman in and they'd sit together on the beanbags in the corner of the classroom and Lauren would chatter away about the songs she liked. It was the most comfortable she ever talking. 

Timmy wasn't wrong. 

"No!" Lauren had replied indignantly, "You're wrong Mom!"

That had earned her a swift smack on the cheek for being rude.

So, to make it up to her Mom, Lauren had painted the picture. She hoped her Mom didn't mind that she'd got some paint on her dungarees and red jumper that she wore underneath. (And possibly a little on the carpet too that had snuck between the newspapers that she'd put down.)

In the kitchen her mom stood ironing Chris' blue, striped soccer kit for his game later. Chris sat opposite her on a stool, dressed in jeans with cuffs rolled up and a blue hoodie. He was shovelling cheerios into his gob. Clearly he hadn't woken up that long ago if his messy hair and sleepy eyes were to go by, even though it was 10:30am! Lauren sighed. Whenever she slept in her mom called her a lazy girl- "The sun won't shine forever!" She'd say in a clipped tone, wrenching the curtains open. But when her brother did her response was, "He's a growing boy." 

Lauren hoped that she was growing too, since her dad had measured her the other day and she was 3ft 10. She definitely wanted to be taller than that when she was grown up. Chris was 4ft and had seemed pleased. "Don't worry Lo," He'd said sympathetically. "Have some of my peas, you'll grow super fast then." Lauren had huffed at that, she didn't really want more peas than necessary. "When we're thirty," Chris had told her seriously, "Then we will be proper grown and the exact same size because we are twins."  

Lauren ate a pea thoughtfully as she considered this. "Really?" 

Chris had nodded earnestly and was about to reply when his dad's chuckling distracted him.