Twins Times Two!. Lisa Bingham

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      Fortunately Ross’s children seemed unaware of her turmoil. Fighting her fear and panic, Cara dragged the duffel toward her and reached into one of the pockets, removing her cell phone.

      Her fingers shook so badly it took three tries before Cara was able to punch in the numbers. One ring. Two.

      “Come on, Polly, please,” Cara whispered, her eyes still glued to Ross Gifford’s twins.

      They were growing unsettled by her rapt attention. Whispering to themselves, they pushed their puzzle a few feet farther away from Cara and resumed their play.

      So quiet. Cara’s twins were rarely quiet and rarely still. She couldn’t ever remember them sitting in one place for more than a few minutes at a time, let alone quietly working on a puzzle. Becca and Brianne didn’t even talk much to each other. Instead, they worked together in a way that revealed how accustomed they were to anticipating each other’s needs.

      Dear sweet heaven above, how could this have happened?

      Cara watched them for what seemed like hours, the phone clutched against her cheek.

      No, it wasn’t hours. She’d only just arrived. She’d only just dialed the phone.

      “Hello, this is Polly Townsend. How can I help you?”

      Cara gripped the phone so hard it creaked. In the background, she could hear the happy squeals of her own twins.

      Heidi and Zoe were safe. They were with Polly. This wasn’t a horrible joke.

      “Polly?” She opened her mouth, then realized she didn’t know what to say. Dear heaven above, she didn’t even know how to explain what was wrong. All she knew was that she was suddenly afraid. Deeply, terrifyingly afraid.

      “Cara?” When Cara didn’t immediately respond, Polly’s tone sharpened in concern. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you find the Gifford house?”

      “Yes. Yes, I’m here now.”

      “Has something happened to the children? Melba told me once that they are terribly attached to their father. Sometimes they cry for a while after he leaves.”

      Wrong? No, nothing was wrong with the children. They were beautiful. Completely and totally perfect.

      Cara sobbed. “Polly, can you get someone to take the twins home and watch them for a little while. I need you to come over as soon as you’ve finished there.”

      Polly didn’t argue about finding a sitter for the twins. Instead, her voice sharpened with concern. “What’s up?”

      “You won’t believe it unless you see it.”

      “‘It?’ Cara you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

      Unable to think of another way of breaking the news, Cara blurted out, “Polly, I think a mistake was made. With the twins. When they were born.”

      There was a pause on the other end.

      “I don’t understand, Cara. Are Gifford’s children sick or something?”

      “No.” Cara bit her lip when the word emerged as another ragged sob.

      “Cara, tell me what’s wrong.”

      The sobs came swifter now and stronger. “Polly, Ross Gifford’s children look like Heidi and Zoe. Exactly like Heidi and Zoe. I think a mistake was made on the night they were born. I think one of each set of twins was switched at the hospital and was sent home with the wrong mothers.”

      Her announcement was met with stunned silence. “Cara, that doesn’t make any sense. Are you telling me that…”

      Polly’s words trailed away, and Cara quickly filled the quiet with her own words. “I’m telling you that Ross Gifford has one twin that looks like Heidi and one that looks like Zoe. And I think I’ve just unknowingly opened Pandora’s box.”

      LESS THAN TWENTY MINUTES PASSED before Polly arrived, bringing with her the other partners of the Mom Squad, Bettina Wilfordson and Grace Abbington. By the time the company van pulled into the drive, Cara had bathed Ross’s children and tucked them into bed. But where Heidi and Zoe would have dawdled over the tasks, Becca and Brianne had gone to bed with a near military-like efficiency—giving Cara a clear indication that Ross Gifford was a man who liked keeping to a schedule.

      Cara sank onto the couch and nibbled at her fingernail while the two women peeked in on the sleeping children. But the moment Cara caught sight of their stunned expressions, she knew that she had not overreacted.

      “This is freaky,” Polly whispered as she sank into a rocker.

      Bettina sank cross-legged on the carpet, her skirt billowing around her. For once Bettina—who generally spoke of the effects of past lives and bad karma on everyday events—was silent.

      Grace eyed Cara in concern. “So what are you going to do?”

      Cara shrugged, unable to think. Her mind kept going in circles, reviewing her first glimpse of Ross’s girls. She was numb and confused, her stomach knotting with a deep inexpressible fear.

      “You could ignore the whole situation and continue on as before,” Polly suggested.

      Bettina gasped as if the cosmic forces of the universe were shuddering at the very idea. “Both sets of twins once shared the intimacy of the womb. Their psyches have unconsciously orchestrated this reunion. To separate them again would be a tragedy.”

      “Let’s leave the Fates out of this please,” Grace inserted quickly before Bettina could begin elaborating on psychic bonds. “I think we would be better off focusing on the present reality of the situation.”

      Cara bit her lip. “Ross Gifford has to be told.”

      If Cara had expected her friends to talk her out of the idea, the silence of the room confirmed her worst fears. Yes. He would have to be told.

      “How…when?” she stammered faintly.

      “The sooner the better,” Bettina offered. “To hold on to such a secret would eat at your soul.”

      “True, but I think before you start telling the man anything, you’d best think things through,” Polly said.

      “Polly is right.” Grace sank onto the cushion next to Cara and took her hand. “You’ve got to look at this from every angle. And when the time comes, you’ll have to tell Ross.” She gave Cara a look of concern. “But not tonight. As much as you might want to blurt things out the minute you see him, I think you’d better consult with a lawyer before you do anything.”

      “I agree,” Polly offered. “I could call Bert Morton and get you into his office tomorrow morning.”

      Cara took a deep shuddering breath. “And until then?”

      The other women exchanged concerned gazes.

      “We’ll take over the rest of the evening for you. Why don’t you go home, put your feet up—” Grace began.

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