Free Two of a Mind by S M Stuart

on the doorstep, unsure of the welcome that waited for me. Only two days since I’d gone over to visit Seth but it seemed like a lifetime. So much had changed in such a short space of time. My non-connection with a Psyche-Twin was now family knowledge. My temper tantrum and hospitalisation were swiftly becoming old news in the neighbourhood – thankfully! And my best friend had shared his deepest, darkest secret – that he believed his mother had committed suicide and that the reason why was hidden in her journal. I had so much to process and I’d been left pretty much on my own to deal with it.
    â€œCome on, sweetheart,” said Dad. “Let’s get you inside and have a nice cup of tea.”
    At that moment, Mum appeared at the end of the hall, wiping her hands on an old-fashioned apron. The smell of home-baked ginger biscuits made my mouth water – my favourites, especially when she put pieces of crystallised ginger in them. She paused, as if she was as nervous as I was, then she smiled.
    â€œWelcome home, Dez.” I could see her struggle with my abbreviated name and I appreciated her effort.
    â€œThanks, Mum.” I almost ran down the hall into her embrace. It was a brittle, fragile hug. It felt like she would break if I held her too tightly, but it was surprisingly good to be close to her again. For a moment I felt her tremble as she held herself in check and I couldn’t work out whether it was disappointment about my lack of a PT connection or relief that I was safely home again that made her so emotional. I tried to believe it was the latter, but the doubts were there. The hug quickly became awkward and we stepped back from each other. Dad was cheerfully oblivious to the undertones and smiled at the mother and daughter reunion.
    â€œCeleste, you spoil us with those delicious biscuits of yours,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He was making loud sniffing noises and he gave her a swift kiss on the cheek as he walked past her to the kitchen. “Mmm. ‘Good sniffs’, as my old grandpa used to say.”
    Mum’s face softened at both the compliment and Dad’s chirpy behaviour. Sometimes I got a glimpse of the woman he’d fallen in love with and I wished she could surface more often or – even better – permanently. When she wasn’t frowning or fretting Mum was a real stunner, with perfectly defined cheekbones; a delicate, slightly pointed chin; large dark eyes; and a sweet snub little nose. She must have had hordes of boys after her in her youth. I glanced at the photo-shots along the wall. The older ones showed her laughing and happy – all well before I was born. Had I made her change so much? Was I such a terrible child? I swallowed my thoughts, not wanting to fall into another round of resentful feelings. She was making an effort – baking my favourite treats and calling me Dez – the least I could do was meet her half way.
    â€œYou’ve got a spot of flour,” I said and used a corner of her apron to clear the smudge from her still-smooth cheek.
    â€œThank you, dear.” And for that instant she held me in a loving gaze that I wished would last forever. The moment passed as she turned to stop Dad demolishing the entire batch of baking. “Jonathan, don’t eat all those biscuits. Remember we have visitors tomorrow.”
    After our tea and biscuits (“
Only two for now, if you don’t mind, Jonathan!
”) I felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. It was early evening but I decided I’d head off to bed before the fragile truce between us was broken.
    â€œAre you sure you don’t want anything for dinner?”
    â€œNo thanks, Mum. The biscuits were enough for now.”
    â€œI can bring up a tray for you later. If you like?”
    â€œI’ll probably sleep through. But I’ll come down if I need anything. Don’t worry.”
    I just wanted to get to my room