Hey Twister—Letters To My Dead Twin

She screamed all the way home, and then I had to wake her up for dinner, and she wouldn't sleep at night. Owen saw the funny side and was amazing as always. He told me in future, we either go together or Elise stays home with him if I need to go clothes shopping. I hope I don't need to go clothes shopping for ages.

We got to the photographer's studio after Elise's nap this afternoon. I'd packed several outfits for her, including a denim skirt and t-shirt. Owen had suggested a purple dress that we found in her wardrobe, so we dressed her in that to travel there. She has never been a chundering baby, but this afternoon something had disagreed with her.

Now I'm thinking that she was sick yesterday and I missed it. I probably gave her food poisoning with the chicken and rice. So, the purple dress was a no go. Jill, the photographer was amazing. She was our age and although she said she had no kids of her own she was amazing with Elise.

We started with some photos of her just in her nappy. Despite vomiting, she was happy again sitting in front of the camera. The photographer draped some fake pearls around her neck and a feather boa. Elise loved this and they went into her mouth immediately.

After a few minutes she was getting a little restless, so I gave her some water from her favourite sippy cup and the photographer suggested a wardrobe change. Owen put her in one of her pink dresses and she was happy to sit in front of the camera for a short time before things started grabbing her attention.

Jill produced a helium filled balloon and tied it around Elise's wrist. This kept her entertained for some more photos until her tummy became upset again. Jill managed to capture the projectile vomit in digital glory. Again, Owen grabbed her and went to clean her up and I tried to clean up the floor of the studio.

When Jill asked if we thought she'd be up to some photos with Mum and Dad, I lost it. I tried to explain that I was her Auntie and Owen was a friend of her father's and her parents had died. I thought we should just stop the session and come back another time, but Owen came and showed me that Elise had calmed down again and was laughing away so we decided to continue.

I went to change into my jeans and t-shirt. You know me--I like baggy. I hide everything. I know I have curves, but they are hidden. I had forgotten to tell the sales assistant this. In the background I could hear Owen telling Jill about the photo of him and his parents and sisters in jeans and white t-shirts and she was saying how adorable this was so I knew I couldn't escape it.

If you were there you would have told me the jeans were fine. They didn't bulge and there was no muffin top or anything, but I felt self-conscious. Owen called out asking if I'd be much longer and I knew I had to face the music. I held in my breath as I left the change area and was glad to see Owen had again changed Elise.

He was just staring at me. Jill was closer to him than was necessary, and I'm sure she was offering him her number, but his jaw dropped, and he stared. I grabbed Elise and suggested he run and get changed. He literally shook his head rapidly, as if he had caught himself staring and went beet red and ran off. I knew that they were too tight.

Then Jill, who had so been flirting with him, told me that he had it bad for me. I mean, what?

In Renée and Malcolm's photo, they are swinging a toddler Nat between them with Meg on Malcolm's shoulders and Patsy holding his hand as Owen holds his mother's hand. I thought Owen would have some photos taken of just him and Elise, but Jill went straight for photos with the three of us. We swung Elise in the air between us, holding her hands which she loved. I was concerned after her earlier vomits, but she was fine again. Then Jill suggested I hold Elise on my hip as Owen draped an arm over my shoulder.

Owen and I have never really touched each other except in passing. This was something else. Jill kept telling me to smile, but I was too focussed on his hand around my shoulders and the feelings it was giving off. I already felt uncomfortable in the clothes I was wearing.

Finally, Jill suggested we sit on the floor with Elise and roll a ball. I said I didn't think I could in these jeans, and Owen said that he thought I looked amazing.

I mean, what the actual fuck. And yes, I'm back to my old potty mouth. Elise laughed at Wo-wo's comment. On the ground, Elise had had enough and crawled over to my lap. I could still hear the click of the shutter and wondered if Jill would ever stop. Elise crawled into my lap, threw her arms around me, and gave me one of her slobbery kisses.

In that moment, I felt so much love for this little person. She didn't care if my jeans were tight or my shirt showed my ample bosom. She cared that I was there. I burst into tears. Owen scooted over on his bottom to see if I was alright. Again, he placed his hand on my shoulder, and his smile melted me.

There was a love I felt for Owen in this moment that snuck up on me. It wasn't a romantic, let's get it on, kind of love, but a feeling of being protected and appreciated. I don't think I'd felt this since your death.

After our moment, I suggested I go and change, but Owen urged me not to, suggesting we get home and feed Elise before putting her to bed.

I've still got no idea where the vomiting came from, but she kept down all her dinner and, apart from yesterday when I broke her routine, she's been fine and her usual self.

Owen's been in with her reading stories. I think we love her story time more than she does, but she loves so many books, just like her mum. I even found a copy of <i>Time for Bed</i> by Mem Fox that I remember Mum reading to us when we were kids. It's now Elise's favourite too.

I suppose I now have to figure out what the 'moment' this afternoon meant and if it indeed meant anything. Confusion does not even begin to cover it. Of course, I saw Marilyn the other day and now don't see her until just before Christmas. I wish you were here to talk with.

Shit. Gotta rush.

Joy.

14 November

Hey Flick,

It's me, Owen. Last night I'd been reading Elise stories and was sitting next to her cot on the ground telling her sleeping form all the ways Joy reminds me of you and how hard I've fallen for her. I really didn't think she felt the same way. When I stood up, I grabbed a shelf on the bookcase. It gave way and made an almighty crash.

This woke Elise and brought Joy running. She handed me this book, simply saying, "Here, I'll get her back down." I felt awful. I'd gotten Elise to sleep and then woken her, and I knew it would take a while to calm her. So, I took this book and headed for my room. For the record, Joy is a miracle worker, and it took only a few minutes to get her back to sleep.

I'd asked Joy before what this book was. She told me she was writing to you to get down stories about you and Mark for Elise to have when she's older. When she handed it to me, I thought she meant for me to read it. I probably misunderstood that part. But boy, am I glad she did.

Soon memories came flooding back. I'd forgotten how much Joy swore after you and Mark died. Everything was fucking this and fucking that, and shits were thrown in at least every few sentences. I caught her yelling at one of the cats, telling them that she'd call them a cunt, but they lacked the warmth and depth. God, I laughed at that, and I may have used it when talking about others to my sisters.

I need to go back though, because, well, I'm hoping that this might serve as... No scratch that. Let's just go back and not hope. Or leave hope for later. I'm not as good at writing as Joy is.

I met Joy a few times before you and Mark were married. She probably doesn't want you to remember this, but she got plastered at your wedding. Travis was meant to be there but had pulled out at the last minute. I was there with Sandy, I think. Yeah. That describes my early twenties--jumping from woman to woman because they threw themselves at me.

You were concerned for her welfare being so far gone, and I told her that as best man, I would ensure that her bridesmaid was taken care of. She was such a funny drunk. I think I learnt more about Travis and his penis that night than I wanted to either know or remember. All I kept asking myself was why someone as amazing as Joy would be with a dickhead like him.

Don't get me wrong, Flick, you were amazing. You were funny, but nowhere near as funny as Joy. And, as told in her dinner party tale a few months ago, you couldn't cook to save yourself. You also had a special bond with each other, and it breaks my heart to see that severed. Perhaps I need to put on the record that as much of a womaniser that I might have been in my younger years, I never made a pass at you, and I hope you never found me inappropriate. I treasured my friendship with Mark too much and, well, next to Joy...

I've only told one other person this, but Mark and I fought at the christening. I'd been singing Joy's praises for over five years and begging him to get the two of you to introduce us or something. He told me beforehand I wasn't good enough for her. Siobhan actually tagged along on the day. I never knew how to spell her name until Joy wrote it early on in here, so thanks, Joy. I definitely wasn't serious about her. Joy was right though; I did ignore Siobhan, but it was because I wanted Joy to notice me.

Mark told me that, until Siobhan turned up with me, he was seriously going to push Joy and me together. I'm not sure if he'd talked to you about this, but I suspect he had because you two shared so much. In my mind, I can hear you saying that Joy wouldn't think she was deserving of me, but I think that's more Joy's perception, and perhaps I've been reading and re-reading this book for too long. On the record though, Joy is amazing and far better a person than me.

When the police knocked at my door, I thought it was my parents who had died. I couldn't comprehend what they were telling me. I actually asked them where the camera was, as I thought I was being pranked.

Seeing Joy and Elise beside your bed in ICU broke me. The police hadn't told me much about your condition, and I was so hopeful, but one look at Joy, and it was like I knew it was bad news.

Joy has almost described Muriel kindly in her words. I paid for her flight to get her here for her son's funeral and got an old schoolmate to ensure she got to the airport. Mark had confided in me last year that he thought she had no money, and he had paid some of her debts. Joy might have been worried about her play at getting custody of Elise, but it would have happened over my dead body, and after what happened to you and Mark, I don't say that lightly. Child Services are aware of this and so much more.

The days between your death and the funeral, I don't think Joy remembers them well. Mum and Patsy came over several times and brought meals. I'd taken time off work and was around as much as possible, but I felt like I was intruding, and I didn't know what to do. My best mate and his wife were dead, and I was now the guardian of their baby. The thing that has guided me these months has been me asking myself what Mark would do. What would Mark want in this situation? How would Mark act? If I'm half the man Mark was, I hope that's enough for Elise.

The priest was useless. He pushed his way into the funeral because of the christening. I know you wanted a simple naming ceremony and to plant a tree in your yard. It was Muriel who insisted on the christening and then wouldn't even come over for it. I tried to get some words from Joy about you, but it was hard to celebrate your life in that simple service.

Mum suggested I call in after work to see how Joy was going. Scrap that. She suggested I move in straight away, but I didn't want to intrude. Joy looked exhausted, more exhausted than you ever did with a newborn, but she hadn't chosen this. She's a natural mother, and Elise adores her.

I saw she doubted herself a lot at first. I didn't know how to communicate effectively. I still don't, hence this epistle. I think I've used that word properly, and Mark would be impressed. He was always smarter than me.

So, Marilyn was a bit of a revelation, and I literally palmed my head when I discovered Joy has been seeing a counsellor. The only other person who I told about the christening fight Mark and I had was Jonathan. I'm not sure how he'd feel being described as Ms Thursday, but I think he'll get a laugh out of it.

I realised after I moved in that I was fucked in the head, to use the medical expression. Romeo was the one who suggested I see someone, but then again, he's a physiotherapist and works with trauma patients, so probably understands some of that psycho-wank that I used to refer to it as.

Telling Joy I wasn't coping was not going to happen, so I hid what I was doing on a Thursday after work. My routine was I'd grab some take-away for dinner, usually a burger, see Jonathan, then spend an hour in the car thinking about things before driving home. I knew Joy thought I was seeing someone, but not in the way she was thinking.

Mum worked out early on that I've got the hots for Joy. She never teased me about it, but when she brought up that she might look after Elise giving Joy and me time together, and Joy turned it into a joke, I figured there was no way she thought of me in the same way.

Mark had been right, I figured, and Joy was far too good for me. But my emotions felt otherwise. Jonathan said I needed to talk to her, but I didn't want to ruin the amazing space we're in. It sucks that we live in your home, and every room has reminders of you and Mark. And yes, Joy, I'm one hundred percent with you--I never would have picked that Mark and Flick would have made a sex tape or taken those photos. There was no trace of either on Mark's laptop, which I was glad of--Imagine if Sashi had found them when he was memorialising the social media.

So, Flick, this is probably really inappropriate that I have taken Joy's book and written something in here, but perhaps, eventually, Elise might discover how her guardians admitted their feelings for each other, because I'm going to be having a talk with Joy in the morning. It's five already, and I haven't slept, and there's no way I'm going to work, so it looks like Joy and I are having a talk. I'd been waiting for her to bring it up first, and perhaps her handing me this book was her taking the first step.

Wish me luck,

Owen aka Wo-wo.

PS--I knew my jaw dropped when she walked out in those jeans and shirt yesterday, but Christ on a bicycle, if I didn't have the hots for her before then...She looked amazing, and I wanted to rush over and tear her clothes off her. Jill, the photographer, might have been flirting with me, but I only had eyes for Joy. I can't wait to see those photos, and I know they will be better than any Mark kept in his undie drawer!

PPS--If I've fucked things up and haven't been able to have a rational discussion with Joy, and we are still negotiating things through her dead sister (let's call it mediation), then I don't ever plan on bringing another woman into Elise's life, but if I have read into things incorrectly, I will, with a broken heart, stand aside to let Joy and her beloved raise Elise in the way you and Mark would want.

PPPS--Can the above PPS be non-admissible? God, I hope she feels the same way as me.

19 November

Hey Twister,

It's not that I didn't want to tell you before now, but it took until this morning for me to get this book back. Owen told me he read it Thursday morning. I remember the crash and then rushing in, but I don't recall handing him the book. I don't doubt that I did, though.

I've just read Owen's epistle above and yes, good word, buddy. Things are now in little snippets in my head from over the last few days. I didn't sleep well after the photo shoot day. I think it was Wednesday--the days are blurring at present. What Owen didn't know was I got Elise down by talking about Wa-wa and how special he had become to me.

Once I'd piled up the books that had fallen--I think we'll blame Mark for shoddy workmanship in assembling said bookshelf--I saw Owen's door was closed, and the light was on, so I assumed he'd gone to bed. I'd actually forgotten about this book. I turned on the dishwasher, let the dogs out, and figured I could do with an early night.

Except I couldn't sleep. I kept playing back in my mind the photoshoot and the way Owen looked at me, and the feel of his arm around my shoulder. I figured that Thursday night if he wasn't seeing Ms Thursday, we could have a talk.

Thursday morning, we both looked like shit. Elise laughed at us. Owen was still in his pyjama shorts and a singlet and looked mighty fine, but it was not as I had ever seen him before. He hadn't been up early to walk the dogs. We both admitted we hadn't slept well. I put <i>The Wiggles</i> on the telly for Elise, and we both napped on the couch. Butch woke me up barking because Elise was sitting in their water bowl.

Owen gave her a bath in the laundry while I grabbed a shower. Elise went down for her nap. I knew Owen had called in sick, and I hoped he hadn't come down with the vomit bug it seemed Elise had had. I was about to hang out the laundry when Owen came outside with a coffee for us both and suggested we have a chat.

I won't bore you with the details, but needless to say, we both admitted that we fancied the other. Owen was probably more open with his feelings than I was at first, but soon I caught up. I was horrified when he told me he'd read this.

He told me about Ms Thursday being his Marilyn, and we both got a chuckle out of that. Another thing he told me that he didn't include above was he wondered if Mark would have named him as guardian if he didn't want him to get close to me. It made me realise how much we both trust you and take our responsibilities so seriously.

On Friday, we went to see Ed, who had some legal things to sign. It looks like things are being finalised with regards to your wills. I was almost sick when I discovered how much life insurance you both had. Ed told us he was not at all surprised at the lengths you had gone to ensure watertight wills and that that had included financial planning too. He agreed with Owen's assumption that the wills mean Muriel has no chance of getting custody of Elise.

I know it seems quick, well it does to me, but Renée looked after Elise Friday night, and Owen booked a little bed and breakfast in the hills for us to retreat to. Owen's told me over and over that I can wear the baggiest clothes I own, and I will still look like a million dollars to him, and his reaction to the jeans and t-shirt was one of pure lust. Renée gave me extra hugs when we dropped Elise off and picked her up again, and she texted me to tell me how happy she was for the two of us and she thinks we are perfect for each other.

Things seem a little piecemeal at the moment in my head, but I want to share so much with you. Remember the morning after you met Mark, and you were telling me he was everything you had ever dreamt of in a man? Well, Owen's like that for me. We were sharing kisses Thursday morning before Elise woke from her nap, and yes, just kisses. His kisses are amazing. I'm pretty sure I almost orgasmed just from these kisses alone, like we weren't even rubbing against each other or anything.

So, then Thursday afternoon, we went for a walk with Elise. I suggested the stroller, but Owen prefers the carrier. So, we walked, each holding a dog lead in one hand and each other's hand in the other. We continued talking and told Elise that there might be some changes at home. She seemed cool with that. Well, she laughed, but she laughs at most things these days, except if she is asked to go to someone she doesn't know.