For their tenth birthday, we threw a single party in the park. There were “two cakes, same frosting.” The girls wore matching overalls on purpose and sat “shoulder-to-shoulder” as they opened their presents, their curls getting tangled together. As they blew out their candles, I watched the “two flames vanish together and felt the past loosen its grip.”
Later, as we were cleaning up, Mia slipped her hand into mine. “Do I have to pick whose house to go to tonight?” she asked.
“Good,” she said, a wide smile on her face. “Because Sash said we’re finishing our bracelet kit at her place and Dad promised movie night, and you said you’d teach us your lasagna.”
I laughed softly. “Ambitious.”
She grinned at me. “We’re twins. We contain multitudes.”
And as I looked at our newly expanded family, I knew she was right. “We do, I thought. We really do.”
