I didn’t pay enough attention to who the twins were. I thought of them as one person, two sides to the same coin. But that’s not who they are, who they were.
Nick was always the leader. He was subtle about it, but the signs were there. He tended to answer first when the twins were asked a question. He directed Daniel with side glances, and Daniel listened intently.
Nick planned things out more. He sat down and studied every night, no matter how much his parents had fought. He tried not to show that things bothered him. When his mother had a breakdown and was crying at the breakfast table, he’d calmly pass the toast to her, talk about his upcoming test as if nothing were wrong, while Daniel stared at his mother in anguish, not caring to make small talk, to pretend the family was normal.
Daniel was more highly strung. I had noticed that. He was more quick to anger, quick to take affront by not just injustices meted to him, but to others. It’s gunny how I thought of this sensitivity as not so much his personality, but almost a task he took on for both of them. Daniel seemed to sacrifice his own mental balance by reacting to everything that was happening, thus allowing Nick his protective shell. If I had known anything about marriage at that point in my life, I could seen their relationship as co-dependent. Nick was the rock, Daniel was the reactive. They each provided a service, a way to support the other.
But I didn’t want to see this support, because it was better to imagine them as the same personality, with the same vulnerabilities. And so then there was a way I could fix those vulnerabilities.
Even worse, I never really paid attention to the twins’ mother. She was so easy to write off as a neurotic shut-in. In fact I wanted to see her in this way. It was almost romantic to me, the way she’d lurk in the house, looking scared. I never even imagined that her neurotic act was just that: a way to get the twins’ sympathy, to cast herself as the victim. Once she realized that her husband had a temper, she could manipulate this temper so that he’d shut, he’d bang tables. He never hit her once. But the way she’d cry after he flung a plate or glass maddest seem like she was physically being hit.
Once the twins reached middle school, she began to call hotlines and complain about her abusive husband, how she was afraid for her life because he threatened he all the time if she left him. She only did this when her husband was away on business trips, when her voice could echo all around the house, so that the twins could hear every word. Finally Daniel begged her to run away, that he couldn’t bear to see her like this. She told him it was impossible, that if she tried to leave their father would track her down, kill her, maybe kill the twins as well. He’d threatened this so many times she didn’t think there was a way she’d ever escape.
Gradually she drew the twins closer to her, and farther away from their father, who tended to bluster, demanding perfection, always finding fault. Meanwhile the twins’ mother showered them with praise, how she felt so safe when they were around, never wanting them to leave her sight, except for school. Friends stopped coming over. The twins’. Father became more secretive, spending more and more time traveling.
Finally the twins’ mother confessed that the twins’ father had married her for her wealth, that he thought there was some sort of stash of money and jewels hidden away in the Somersby estate, now owned by a bank and sitting vacant, the burnt house a stain on land that no one wanted.
She told them that once he found the money that the twins’ father would probably kill her and marry his mistress.
— siobhan
Nick was always the leader. He was subtle about it, but the signs were there. He tended to answer first when the twins were asked a question. He directed Daniel with side glances, and Daniel listened intently.
Nick planned things out more. He sat down and studied every night, no matter how much his parents had fought. He tried not to show that things bothered him. When his mother had a breakdown and was crying at the breakfast table, he’d calmly pass the toast to her, talk about his upcoming test as if nothing were wrong, while Daniel stared at his mother in anguish, not caring to make small talk, to pretend the family was normal.
Daniel was more highly strung. I had noticed that. He was more quick to anger, quick to take affront by not just injustices meted to him, but to others. It’s gunny how I thought of this sensitivity as not so much his personality, but almost a task he took on for both of them. Daniel seemed to sacrifice his own mental balance by reacting to everything that was happening, thus allowing Nick his protective shell. If I had known anything about marriage at that point in my life, I could seen their relationship as co-dependent. Nick was the rock, Daniel was the reactive. They each provided a service, a way to support the other.
But I didn’t want to see this support, because it was better to imagine them as the same personality, with the same vulnerabilities. And so then there was a way I could fix those vulnerabilities.
Even worse, I never really paid attention to the twins’ mother. She was so easy to write off as a neurotic shut-in. In fact I wanted to see her in this way. It was almost romantic to me, the way she’d lurk in the house, looking scared. I never even imagined that her neurotic act was just that: a way to get the twins’ sympathy, to cast herself as the victim. Once she realized that her husband had a temper, she could manipulate this temper so that he’d shut, he’d bang tables. He never hit her once. But the way she’d cry after he flung a plate or glass maddest seem like she was physically being hit.
Once the twins reached middle school, she began to call hotlines and complain about her abusive husband, how she was afraid for her life because he threatened he all the time if she left him. She only did this when her husband was away on business trips, when her voice could echo all around the house, so that the twins could hear every word. Finally Daniel begged her to run away, that he couldn’t bear to see her like this. She told him it was impossible, that if she tried to leave their father would track her down, kill her, maybe kill the twins as well. He’d threatened this so many times she didn’t think there was a way she’d ever escape.
Gradually she drew the twins closer to her, and farther away from their father, who tended to bluster, demanding perfection, always finding fault. Meanwhile the twins’ mother showered them with praise, how she felt so safe when they were around, never wanting them to leave her sight, except for school. Friends stopped coming over. The twins’. Father became more secretive, spending more and more time traveling.
Finally the twins’ mother confessed that the twins’ father had married her for her wealth, that he thought there was some sort of stash of money and jewels hidden away in the Somersby estate, now owned by a bank and sitting vacant, the burnt house a stain on land that no one wanted.
She told them that once he found the money that the twins’ father would probably kill her and marry his mistress.
— siobhan
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