âWhere?â
âLondon?â Felix said. âI thought he said something about London.â
âYes, but
where
exactly?â
âHow should I know? I donât know anything about London,â Felix said, exasperated. Who cared about Great-Uncle Thorneâs former address when their mother was out kissing Bruce Fishbaum?
âBut was he in a house? Alone?â
âMaisie?â Felix said. âWhatâs your point?â
âMy point is that I think we brought him back, too.â
âBack?â He sat upright. âWas that a car?â
Maisie sighed one of her big dramatic sighs. âI think he was old and decrepit,â she paused, mentally searching her vocabulary words. âInfirmed,â she continued triumphantly. âJust like Great-Aunt Maisie. And our time traveling revived him, too.â
Felix twisted his face free from her grasp.
âWell,â he said, âthat makes sense, I guess.â
Maisie looked at him expectantly.
âDonât you see?â she said, frustrated.
Felix slumped back into the sofa. âI guess I donât,â he admitted.
âWeâre twins, right?â
Felix nodded, even though this was yet another rhetorical question.
âAnd so are Great-Aunt Maisie and Great-Uncle Thorne, right?â
And another one
, Felix thought.
Maisie leaned closer to him. He could smell her fake butter, lemon cookie, mint chocolate chip, salty breath.
âThatâs the missing piece,â she said. âYou need to be a twin to do it.â
Felix sat upright again.
âYou need to be a twin to do it,â he repeated slowly.
Their motherâs voice cut through the room.
âYou need to be a twin to do what?â she said.
Maisie and Felix sipped the hot chocolate their mother made for them and studied her face for signs of love.
She had taken them down to the vast Kitchen, with all its gleaming stainless steel and subway-tiled walls and industrial-sized everything after theyâd jumped up and shouted: âYou need to be a twin to understand!â
âUnderstand what?â sheâd said with that tone of voice that let them know she knew they were up to something.
âTo understand . . . being a twin!â Maisie had said, and Felix had nodded enthusiastically beside her.
âHmm,â their mother had said. Sheâd stared at them a few seconds more, then thrown her hands up in surrender. âI think we all need some hot chocolate,â sheâd said finally.
The hot chocolate was made with unsweetened chocolate, cream, vanilla, cinnamon, and a touch of chili pepper in it, just the way they liked it. Maisie and Felix knew that their mother had learned to make hot chocolate this way on her honeymoon in Mexico with their father. They took it as a good sign that she made it for them now, fresh off her date with Bruce Fishbaum.
She peered at them from over the rim of her mug.
âWere you two actually waiting up for me?â she said.
âYes,â Felix said at the very same time that Maisie said, âNo.â
âBruce Fishbaum and I are just friends,â their mother said. âFYI.â
FYI?
Maisie thought in horror. Their mother didnât say things like âFYI.â That was definitely Fishbaum-speak.
âBut he wore a tie,â Felix pointed out.
Their mother laughed. âHe always wears a tie. Twenty-four seven.â
24-7?
More Fishbaum-speak!
âBut itâs so late,â Felix said.
âWe got caught up discussing the Holbrook case,â their mother said.
Felix tried to give her the same look she gave them, the one that let her know he didnât buy what she was saying. Not for an instant.
They each sipped their hot chocolate in silence.
Then their mother said, âTwins run in the Pickworth family.â
âObviously,â Maisie said.
âEven Phinneas was a twin,â their mother said.
âWho was