Hey Mama Goose,
I have a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR problem! Where to start—–my sister Natalie and I are identical twins. From the time we were born our parents were determined like Hitler was determined to invade Poland that we would be treated as stand alone little girls. Dressed alike—never. We had separate bedrooms. Get this, they even enrolled us in separate preschools. Despite all of their individualizing tactics, Natalie and I were the classic text book example of the intertwined closeness of identical twins complete with a roster of mental telepathy events and switching places stories. By the time we headed off to college our parents had given up especially since we could switch places fooling even them, albeit it took a bit more concentration on our parts. We attended the same college and shared a dorm room. At 24 we still live together in an apartment.
Life was good. Then Natalie met Philip and ‘good’ started slipping away like the ebbing tide. Oh my Gawd, what did she see in him was my daily question. She thought he was charming. I thought he was smarmy. Natalie swooned over how handsome he was and Philip agreed with her. On more than one occasion I caught him preening in front of our mirror in the front hall. From her perspective she saw great father potential. How could she miss the utter boredom etched on his face whenever children were on the scene. This man wasn’t Batman. He wasn’t even the Joker, who at least was an interesting character. He was just a joke.
What topped the cake wasn’t chocolate Grenache. I caught the womanizing weasel cheating with a blond ninny sporting boobs resembling helium party balloons, staggering around on tooth pick legs and five inch stilettos. I was sucked into a quick sand quandary. What to do? I would never deliberately hurt my twin. On the other hand, we always protected each other. However it didn’t take a crystal ball to know she would never believe me. My ultimate decision was to wait it out. Eventually this romance would run it’s course like all the others.
Then THE worse happened. One evening Natalie burst through the front door screaming my name. “Guess what? Oh my Gawd! Philip and I are getting married. We are eloping to Las Vegas and having one of those crazy Elvis Presley weddings. You’ll be my maid of honor of course.”
I was rocketed beyond shocked. I couldn’t have been more horrified if Freddy Kruger was chasing me down a dark alley. Instead of squealing congratulations and hugging her I screeched, “You can’t. Are those weddings even legal. What about your fantasy church wedding?” Her response was to continue jumping around and shrieking. With no tact I blurted out in technicolor language what I had observed.
“Why are you trying to ruin this happy moment for me,” Natalie shouted. ” Oh I know. You’re jealous. Hey, that’s it, isn’t? I have a guy who loves me and wants to marry me and you don’t. Well I don’t care what you think. I love Philip and he loves me. We are going to Las Vegas to get married with or without you. I don’t need or want you there on the biggest and happiest day of my life.” Natalie whirled around and marched to her bedroom slamming the door behind her.
After that Natalie refused to speak to me. Two days later I overheard her confirming departure plans with Philip. Hyperventilating, I was in complete melt down panic.
With no recourse and time running out I resorted to dire tactics. Pretending to be Natalie I called Philip and invited him for celebratory drinks the next evening at our apartment.
Next I begged Natalie to forgive me. Our ensuing hugs and tears was bittersweet in the face of the sting operation I was engineering. It was easy to convince her to go shopping the next evening for some special wedding clothes.
Then I commandeered two women who were the definition of slithering sexy to be at the apartment to greet Philip. On the coffee table were three—yes three—bottles of expensive champagne chilling in silver ice buckets.
I suspect you are already filling in the blanks. Me as Natalie kept texting how sorry she was to be late and to go ahead and pop the corks on the champagne. There was no doubt in my mind what lascivious Philip would be doing with the two uber sexy women when Natalie and I arrived home. My opinion was validated beyond my greatest expectations.
However I didn’t anticipate the full extent of the outcome. Yes Natalie was white hot with anger at Philip. Empty champagne bottles flew through the air along with the three empty champagne buckets. The sex goddesses were out of there like Jack Flash. The highlight of the chaos was Philip stammering, cowering to avoid all the flying debris while at the same time clumsily attempting to pull up his trousers.
However then the tables turned. We are twins. We know each other on a level most would not understand. Natalie turned, stared at me with look which caused shivers to dance down my spine and quietly said, “I know you were behind this. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to trust or forgive you.”
The next day Natalie moved out. We haven’t spoken or seen each other in two months. I’m bereft. Now I know what people mean when they talk about heartache. I’m lost without my twin. What can I do to rebuild her trust and gain her forgiveness.
Dear Broken Hearted, It’s quite a tale you have presented. My first reaction was, you are sooooooo screwed. The relationship will never heal completely if ever. However I reread your letter and pondered it some more. The outcome went awry, but your intention was true blue and straight from the heart. In addition the bond of being an identical twin is going to win out. Not only is Natalie suffering from the betrayal by Philip, but she is missing her other half, you her twin sister as badly as you miss her. So I think what is needed is meeting and talking it through. Nothing facilitates a woman to woman conversation better than ice cream, chocolate and alcohol. I have listed some suggestions. Stock up on all three and engineer another of your sting operations to reunite with your beloved twin sister. I see success in your endeavor.
From This is How I Cook—the creamiest yummiest ice cream, Maple Salted Macadamia Ice Cream.
From John at Kitchen Riffs—-a swoon worthy Mint Julep. We think several of these might be needed.
From Flavor the Moments—CHOCOLATE in the form of delectable Chocolate Macadamia Fudge