Robin Owens - Keepers of the Flame

“Bri?” Elizabeth’s voice was laden with concern.

“I’m hanging in there. Been a long day.” She wondered if anything would happen if she braced a hand against the wall that the bed was against. It was either that or collapse in a heap, so she did so. The pretty pattern wasn’t paper. It was silk. She shook her head to banish gray exhaustion from her vision and saw that Elizabeth had checked out two doors and left them open.

“Study.” Elizabeth pointed left. “Bathroom.” To the right. “Then dining room.”

Bri stared at the bed. Bigger than a California king. Of course the Lladranans were a big people, larger than American average, or American big. They pampered themselves, with beds that big and a damask comforter filled with down atop it.

Elizabeth sniffed. She had a tissue in her hand.

“Oh, Elizabeth!” Bri stumbled to her, found her and they held each other and rocked, as they’d done often when life had overwhelmed them in childhood. Privately, because this was their own twin thing.

Bri, I’m frightened.

Me, too.

You’re the adventuress. Do you think we’re really somewhere else?

Either that or the elevator crashed and we have massive trauma and are either in comas or dead and not moved on yet.

Choking, Elizabeth said, “That’s what I thought. Am thinking. I think.”

“Therefore you is. You always think. But both logic and emotion lead me to believe we’re alive and functioning and in a different, uh, realm. We’re together, you’re not in my dream. Or maybe you are. Should I say something I know that proves to you that I’m me and here?” She thought a little. “I found this really excellent rock group in Sweden and had an affair with the drummer and even followed him around on a European tour.”

“You!” Elizabeth’s head jerked as though from a blow and her arms loosened. Her eyes were wide with shock.

Heat flooded Bri from her feet to tickle her scalp. She winced and gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. I’m susceptible to lust and infatuation just like anyone else. He found someone who’d flatter him more and dumped me.” Not the whole truth.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed and she swept a glance up and down Bri. She raised her hands. “Hey, I’m all right. I can be sensible. No sexually transmitted diseases. No pregnancy.”

With a final scan and a blink, Elizabeth crossed her arms. Bri held out hers again, and they hugged, stepped back, but kept their hands linked.

“All right,” Elizabeth said. “That sounds so you, but I never would have imagined it. Never.”

“Your turn,” Bri said. “You pretty much acted like I’d expect if this was all my dream. Prove you’re you.”

Elizabeth’s jaw clenched. She dropped Bri’s hand, looked away, blushed a fiery red, and Bri heard her answer telepathically. Cassidy was—is—into light bondage. And I liked it, too.

Bri’s mouth fell open. She stared. Elizabeth’s arms were crossed again and she still wasn’t looking at Bri.

“You’re right. That’s something I’d never think of.” Her turn to study her twin. “But you were both wound too damn tight. I can see…no, I don’t think I want to see. Just let me ask. One or both of you, um…”

“We took turns.” Elizabeth’s voice was stifled. She finally met Bri’s eyes and said, “And you reacted just like I’d expect you to.”

They stared at each other, then cracked up, falling together again. When they’d finished with the bout of hysterical laughter, Bri took a tissue, wiped her eyes, then blew her nose.

“For the record,” Elizabeth said in a serious tone. “Sexual preferences aren’t necessarily determined by stress or how ‘tightly’ a person is wound.”

“Huh. I heard that sometimes high-powered professional women such as yourself—”

“So, tell me, Ms. Free Spirit. Haven’t you ever done it?”

Again heat rose in Bri. “I’ll take the fifth, but I will say it never became a standard sexual practice.”

Elizabeth smiled wickedly. “We aren’t identical.”

“One last thing, what’s your favorite number?”

Bri waited a beat, then said, “Forty-two,” at the same time Elizabeth did. “I think I have to sit down.”

“The beds—”

“Definitely not the bed,” Bri said. “If I hit a bed, I’m gone, and we need to talk. You got any chocolate in your purse?”

Going to the chest, Elizabeth took her black healthy back bag and clutched it. “Maybe.”

“Me, too. I’ve got a feeling that we’ll have to be careful of it or those others will pinch it or expect us to share. Let’s see how much.” With slow steps, Bri reached the chest, then hefted her backpack with the solar panels on it. “Boy, am I glad I invested in this.” She carefully spilled the contents. Her music pod, PDA, digital camera, cell, and everything else she needed for a three-day hike.

Elizabeth pulled items from every pouch of her bag and lined the objects in little rows, glanced at Bri’s heap. “That’s it?” she gasped. “Two small candy bars. That is the extent of your chocolate cache!”

Bri winced. “I was hungry on the plane. I ate some.”

Elizabeth took Bri’s pack, shook it. Rustling came. She rolled her eyes. “You just dumped the bag, didn’t check the compartments.” Nimble fingers delved and found the unopened bag of the miniature bars Bri had purchased as well as two credit card holders and a lucky koala bear key chain.

“Oh, thank God!” Bri snatched the chocolate bag. Tears welled in her eyes. “You are a wonderful woman, twin.” The words were out of her mouth before she realized that Elizabeth’s chocolate stash was about twice the size of her own. Elizabeth still had the unopened bag of her dark chocolate treats, too.

“I wonder whether the others prefer milk or dark,” Elizabeth said.

Putting down her bag, Bri sorted her stuff. Electronics, pens and paper, food, water bottle, wallet and coin purse and loose change, keys, instant coffee, herbal tea bags…. “I bet it won’t matter. Chocolate is chocolate after all. We don’t let them know we have it.”

“You don’t think they have chocolate here?”

“I don’t want to take the chance.”

Elizabeth was packing her purse up again, sliding things in their proper pockets. “You’re right, and my chocolate is mine and yours is yours.”

Bri sent her a wounded look. “Would I take your chocolate?” “Yes.”

Sniffing, Bri said, “You’re right. Better hide it.”

“When I get home—” Elizabeth stopped, choked, dropped her bag, put her hands over her face and folded onto the love seat.

“Oh, honey.” Bri grabbed her own packet of tissues and sat next to her sister. “I know you’re scared. I am, too. But we’re in this together.”

“I don’t want to be in anything. Even if you are here.”

Bri rested her head on Elizabeth’s. She didn’t dare let go of her control or she’d be asleep in two seconds. “I’m sorry.” She blinked and blinked again to keep her eyes open.

Elizabeth’s muscles tensed as she gathered her own control. It wasn’t often Elizabeth broke down, and Bri could only imagine the emotional roller coaster her twin had been on lately. Not surprising this hit her hard. It might be hitting Bri equally hard if her mind wasn’t so fuzzy.

“I love you, sis, but I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I don’t know how to help you.”

After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Elizabeth threw away their tissues in a wastebasket, then said brusquely, “Just weariness. Now let’s get serious. What sort of meds do we have?” Once again she opened her bag and brought out a small gold-toned pill box that Bri had given her on their last birthday. She flipped it open and showed a few over-the-counter analgesics.