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Click here"Oh my girls." I said. "My poor, poor girls." I carried on toward them, arms open and unmindful of Emma's flinch, or Carolyn's rooted gaze. I stepped up to my daughters and pulled them toward me, holding them in an embrace, wishing, willing the love I had for them to flow out of my arms to them. Gradually, I felt Carolyn's hand gingerly creep around the small of my back, then Emma's a little higher. I hugged them closer, crying tears into the softly scented hair of each girl in turn.
"My beautiful beautiful girls. Oh I love you so much." I said, even though the words were half choked and muffled by blonde-streaked red hair.
We stood together for a long while. Eventually, I felt the arms around my back tighten and pull me in to the shared embrace. And then, when we had stepped away from each other, I kissed each of them on the cheek and went into the kitchen to make dinner. I wanted us all to have a special meal. Just because we were all together again.
Later, much later, when night had drawn in and I had found some measure of peace within myself once more, I crept upstairs and opened the door to Emma and Carolyn's room. The shaft of light from the hallway knifed in on Carolyn's empty bed. I stepped in further, and stopped when I saw the curled-up double form lying close together under the covers of Emma's bed. All clothes, jeans, tops, skirts and underwear - even pyjamas - had been discarded on the floor. An arm, bare to the shoulder and connected to a hear of blonde-streaked red hair whose owner even I could identify, was slung lazily over the other form in the bed. Both girls slept peacefully.
I crept away slowly and closed the door quietly. I had nothing but love for my daughters, and I knew that even the events of the last few days were nothing but a harsh test of that love.
I did not understand why they had found such intimacy with one another. Especially when they had everyone and everything to choose from. Perhaps it was the incident I had with Carolin all those years ago. Perhaps it was that uncanny sameness they shared - even for identical twins. I did not know. But I would have time. As much time as I would need for understanding 'Emmalyn'.
End
- COMMENTS
namidaboshiabout 1 year agoSo beautiful. If only the mother had been brave enough to live upto her love and not be ashamed for who she was. The girls might have had another mother in their lives.
Anonymousabout 6 years agoCool that you made it with a twist and kept it clean and did not make it tawdry by getting the mom involved. Nice touch.
iforinsipidover 6 years agoI was really hoping there would be more light shed on Emmalyn... the intrigue is too much, this deserved a sequel at least, multiple chapters would have been ideal. Hope you get back to writing some time...
Anonymousover 7 years agoAnd I'm not particularly into Sapphic Love stories. But this was really more in the spirit of a Romance and it was a love deeper than a "relationship". I'm proud for you writing a mother that could accept them. Most parents are not tolerant of their teen's choices, no matter what their own particular picadilloes had been when they were young. My own father. The conservative, deacon, masonic lodge member, quiet, unassuming, corporate accountant - had been called the "Hell-Driver" when a teenage driver. Who knew? And he was especially hard on me when I learned to drive? So, one never can guess. And parents are funny. This was very good.
