Twinster - Part I
by Sinmisola Ogúnyinka
The petite blond, Suzie, talked non-stop while Victor Henric scrolled through messages three days old. How had he gotten so overwhelmed to not remember them? He swiped right and left, sure Suzie would soon punctuate her chatter with a question. The thought hardly left before she did.
“Whole or skimmed?”
“None,” he mumbled without asking what. He never took anything with those options.
“You don’t seem to have a healthy diet, Mr. Henric,” Suzie said. “Only artificial stuff is in your cart.”
One woman complained about that in his past and got him drinking beetroot smoothies first thing in the morning. He shook his head to forget her.
“I do bananas.”
She smiled, exposing dental implants ever so perfectly fixed. “I have a bunch.” She moved ahead to the aisle for beddings. Victor followed her absently.
A soccer ball bounced off a shelf of pillows so close it was too late to escape it. Suzie’s shortness saved her. The ball hit Victor once on the face and dropped into the cart full of groceries and home equipment.
“F-rench toast!” Victor turned to find the culprit a minute before a ten-year-old boy hurried over to get it.
Victor grabbed the ball before the boy could, and their gazes clashed. Something dropped in his stomach.
“I apologize, sir.” The boy smiled. “Mom will kill me.”
His face. The smile. A figure appeared for a split second at the other end, with a terse, “Manny!”
“Have to run, sir.” The boy took the ball off Victor’s hand and ran after who he presumed was his mother.
Victor pursued both. He caught only a mane of straight brown hair just before the driver’s door was banged shut, and the tail of a Hyundai car.
Suzie walked over minutes later with the paid supplies. “Someone you know, Mr. Henric?”
“That will be insane, Ms. Suzie.” Victor arched an eyebrow. “Someone you know?”
“Dazzline! You need to stop pacing for heaven’s sake. You had me calling on the Lord’s home in vain for the past hour!”
Daz swallowed. “He’s here, Mom. I saw him at the Walmart.” She rubbed her temple, her stomach churned. “What am I going to do?”
Mrs. Murray had her only solution handy. “Pretend it didn’t happen. Take it to your God in prayer.”
Daz drew in a ragged deep breath. “He saw Manny. Do you think he would recognize him?”
“He never set his eyes on him one day, hallelujah!” Mrs. Murray waved. “Boy is covered and so are you.”
“I feel so nervous, Mom. I came here to get away from him. From everything. And now–why would he come here to find us?”
Mrs. Murray stood from her rocking chair and groaned like she did every time she moved her overweight figure from a position of rest. She strolled over to Daz and patted her cheek. “Believe me, he didn’t come all the way up here to find you. He packed his bag and walked out on you halfway through having his baby in New York City.”
“Then why is he here? He was shopping home stuff and food with that little realtor, Suzie Bariet.”
“The talkative.” Mrs. Murray moaned. “Heaven’s gate! He moving into one of her properties?”
“Exactly. She’ll tell him everything about everyone in Ego’s Trip.” Daz cried. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken Manny with me today.”
“Well, dear daughter, take a deep breath, say the Lord’s prayer, and go to sleep.” Mrs. Murray walked toward her room at the end of the hallway. “A cup of hot chocolate works too. Or lemon tea.”
Long after her mother was gone, Daz stood in the semi-dark room. Tears trickled down her face. Victor never wanted her or her baby. Why was he here now? After ten years! He’d seen Manny and she hoped he didn’t think of their resemblance as anything. He hoped he didn’t see her.
The story continues in Twinster - Part II next month.
About the Author
Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics and is a Craftsman of Jerry B. Jenkins’ former Christian Writers’ Guild. Sinmi, as she is fondly called, blogs, teaches writing, and writes. She also has a day job in customer service. Sinmi lives with her family in Philadelphia, PA.
You can read Sinmisola’s flash fiction column on the 4th Tuesday each month here at Pandora’s Box Gazette.