My daughter stomped into the kitchen that afternoon, and boy, did she look pissed.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked. She’d been brimming with excitement just minutes ago, having put on the costume she’d made herself for our community’s annual Halloween festivities.
She threw her plastic pumpkin on the floor. “She stole my idea! She had a whole year to prepare, and I told her what I was making, but still she stole my idea!”
It was not like her to throw a tantrum. At all. Most especially involving her best friend, Jamie; they’d been inseparable since they were toddlers.
I offered the plate of cookies I’d just finished baking, hoping it would calm her down. “Maybe Jamie just ran out of time,” I said gently, “so she used your idea for inspiration. It’s not very nice, but it happens sometimes.”
She huffed indignantly, folding her arms. She was clearly upset, because she normally did not have enough willpower to resist freshly-baked cookies. “Jamie’s Gazelle. I’m Judy. But she also dressed as Judy.”
“Oh, Emma. Surely you can make enough room for one more Judy, can’t you?” I said, putting an arm around her and squeezing. But the wording of her statement actually made me wonder, because I couldn’t recall seeing her and Jamie hanging out with other girls. “Wait, who’s she? Jamie?”
“No, Mom. Ella.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, knocking all the air out of me.
Ella was supposed to be the name of Emma’s twin.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.