Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The library was Wren McCoy’s favorite kind of quiet. Not the hollow, lonely quiet she remembered from high school nights, when her identical twin sister, Lark, stayed over at her best friend’s house, and their shared bedroom felt too big, too still…too dark.
No, this was a living quiet. A breathing one, with the soft hum of fluorescent lights, the whisper of pages turning, and the occasional creak of old wooden floors as someone shifted their weight in the history aisle.
It was peaceful and predictable.
Wren slid the last returned book into place, aligning the spine just so. She sighed softly and stepped back, surveying the shelf.
“Five minutes until closing,” she called out, her voice gentle but carrying just enough to reach the handful of remaining patrons.
A teenager, Austin Crenshaw, sat at one of the computers. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement without looking away from his screen. No doubt scrambling madly to finish his homework.
Mrs. Donnelly—who came in every Thursday like clockwork—gave Wren a warm smile and tucked the novel she’d checked out into her oversized purse.
Routine. Order. Calm. Wren thrived on all three.
Which was precisely why the sharp, sudden bang of the front door slamming open made her entire body jolt.
Her heart leapt to her throat as she spun toward the entrance, bracing for chaos.
Chaos with a name.
“Wren!”
Lark.
Only her sister could turn a quiet library into a rock concert.
Wren pressed her lips together, fighting the automatic smile that threatened whenever Lark made an appearance. Even when she wanted to be annoyed—and she did, because honestly, who bursts into a library like that?—Lark had a way of brightening her day.
“Inside voice,” Wren said, even though she could see the other patrons were amused as well.
Lark winced, then grinned, undeterred. She lowered her voice…slightly. “Sorry, Mrs. Donnelly. Austin. Emergency.”
Of course it was. Wren snickered. Because emergencies were as common as Mondays in Lark’s world.
Wren walked to the front desk, wiggling her mouse to wake up the computer screen so she could shut it down. “I’m closing.”
“I know, I know.” Lark bounced on the balls of her feet, nervous energy vibrating from every pore. “I just need a minute. Please?”
“Fine. Let me do a couple of things first.”
Austin, the sweetheart, had already shut down his computer as well as the other three along the wall. He waved goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Wren.” He walked out at the same time as Mrs. Donnelly.
“Bye, Wren, Lark,” Giles Hawkins said, suddenly appearing from behind the shelf way in the back. He was always the last patron to leave. Wren followed, locking the door behind him.
She had a closing routine, and with Lark hovering and looking desperate, it was a sure bet she was going to forget to do something.
Wren turned off the main bank of lights, leaving the one that illuminated the circulation desk on. Then she gestured for her sister to join her behind the desk, where there were two office chairs. Wren sank down heavily, because Lark was giving her that look.
The one that said her sister was about to ask for something.
The one that almost always ended in Wren saying yes.
“Okay. Hit me with it,” Wren said, once Lark had sat down. Only Lark could perch in a chair and remain in constant motion.
Lark opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she slumped back and crossed her arms.
Wren frowned…because this suddenly did feel like an emergency.
“Lark. What’s wrong?”
Lark bit her lower lip, then lowered her head. “I fucked up. Big-time.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d heard those exact same words from her sister. Hell, it wasn’t the twentieth time.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” Wren said soothingly. She’d had a lifetime of practice when it came to reassuring Lark.
Lark finally lifted her head and took what appeared to be a bracing breath. “I need you to be me this weekend.”
Wren blinked. “No.”
Lark groaned. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“Hell no,” Wren said, stressing her response. “I don’t need to think about it.”
“But, Wren—”
“We did that when we were kids, Lark. For fun. For harmless little pranks on our friends. Are you proposing this as a joke?” she asked, even though she knew what the answer would be.
Lark shook her head. “No. This time, it would be serious.”
“There’s no way I could pull off ‘being you,’” Wren finger-quoted. “As we’ve gotten older, we’ve become very different people.”
“I know that, but, Wrennie,” Lark pleaded, “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t really important.”
She was determined to stick to her no. But obviously, Lark wouldn’t accept that until she shared what the emergency was and Wren found another solution for her sister. One that didn’t involve pretending to be her live wire of a sister.
Why oh why did they have to be identical twins? Fraternal would have been just fine.
Wren suddenly regretted deciding against cutting her long blonde hair into a bob-style last month.
“What’s the emergency, Lark?”
Lark’s shoulders slumped, and for once, she wasn’t all bright energy and chaos. Instead, she looked worried.
“Nora’s mad at me. I’ve kind of been screwing up a bit at work.”
“Dammit, Lark—”
Her sister cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say. It’s just…”
“You’re showing up late?” Wren asked, even though she knew the answer.
Lark nodded. “I’ve been struggling to get there on time.
It’s okay when I start my day cleaning cabins with Remi, because she doesn’t care if I’m a few minutes late.
But Nora notices. Plus…I might have swapped shifts a few times in the past couple of months, and the last time, I forgot to tell Nora.
Tonya, the girl who traded with me, didn’t show up, so Nora had to work my shift.
Obviously, she was mad at me, because she thought I was the one who missed. ”
“Why didn’t you ask her for those days off before she put you on the schedule?” Wren knew Nora Storm, so she knew the woman wasn’t much of a hard-ass.
One side of Lark’s mouth twisted up, but she didn’t bother to answer the question. Because she didn’t need to.
Wren rubbed her eyes wearily. This conversation with her sister was the equivalent of a scratchy record, stuck in the same spot, repeating the same words over and over and over. “What happened to that planner I bought you for Christmas? You swore you were going to start writing things down.”
“And I did,” Lark insisted. “For a little while, but then…I forgot about it. Then I lost it.”
Wren was torn between laughing and crying. This was all just so Lark. “Of course, you did.”
“I’ve been trying to be better, but I forgot to plug my phone in last night and the battery died, so my alarm didn’t go off.”
“Which is why I bought you that alarm clock,” Wren pointed out. “You’re supposed to set both every night, remember?”
Lark slouched back in the seat. “I know I messed up, Wren. But I love this job. It’s the best one I’ve ever had.”
Wren nodded, since she agreed. “It’s perfect for you.”
Focus was a problem for Lark, so the fact she wore so many different hats in her current job helped.
She jumped from cleaning cabins, to serving in the tasting room, to performing, sometimes all in the same day.
While constantly shifting roles like that would drive Wren crazy, Lark thrived, loving the variety and actually functioning better as a result.
“I’ve been trying to get more organized. It just doesn’t come natural to me like it does to you.”
Wren studied Lark’s face and saw her sister’s sincerity. She wasn’t a bad person, and she wasn’t careless because she didn’t care. It was the opposite, really.
She cared about everything, all at once, and it left her scattered, pulled in too many directions. As a result, Lark struggled with time management and organization. But when she focused, she was incredible.
Sometimes Wren felt irrationally guilty for that, wondering if she’d somehow snapped up all those genes in the womb, considering those were two places where she flourished.
“You being in trouble doesn’t explain why you need me to pretend to be you.”
Lark grimaced. “I double-booked.”
“Jesus,” Wren muttered. Honest to God, if she never heard her sister say the words “double-booked” again, it would be too soon.
“A couple months ago, I agreed to work a wine festival in Norfolk with Maverick. It’s a big event, one that Lightning in a Bottle Winery never misses. I was thrilled when Nora picked me. Plus, with it being the whole weekend, it meant massive overtime pay.”
Wren nodded. “But…”
“But I didn’t realize it was this weekend. I didn’t write it down, didn’t put the dates together…” Lark paused, as if expecting Wren to come to some massive epiphany.
She didn’t. “What else is this weekend?”
“The concert.”
“Shit,” Wren breathed. “Taylor Swift?”
Lark nodded. “Aunt Judi got tickets for us to go together. She gave them to me for my birthday, remember?”
Wren nodded.
“I’ve been looking forward to it ever since because she got us amazing seats, right in front of the stage.”
Aunt Judi was the bomb when it came to giving gifts. Technically, she wasn’t their aunt at all, but she might as well have been. Judi and their mom had been college roommates and lifelong best friends.
The phrase “opposites attract” was probably coined for Mom and Judi, because there couldn’t be any two besties more unalike.
Mom, a hippie from the word go, got married right out of college, never using her art degree and choosing to be a stay-at-home mother instead.
Judi went the other direction, landing a job at PNC Financial Services in Pittsburgh, eschewing marriage and kids in favor of her career.
Aunt Judi had claimed Mom’s kids as her own, serving as a doting godmother not only to her and Lark but to their younger siblings, Robin and Piper as well. Judi liked to brag that she got her children without the stretch marks.
Aunt Judi, wildly successful in her career, had more money than she could ever spend, and she didn’t mind spending it on them.