Free His-And-Hers Twins by Rita Herron

been placed in the center of each table. Small chairs had been situated around low tables and the children had decorated place cards in the shapes of flowers and printed their mothers’ names on them. Paige’s heart squeezed slightly, seeing the crayoned scrawling of her name in between Summer’s and August’s.
    She suddenly felt like an impostor, yet at the same time, she imagined how awkward and uncomfortable the girls would feel if the chair between them were vacant. Then the door sporting a purple dinosaur opened and children rushed out. Excited voices and chatter wafted around her as the children searched for their mothers. When August and Summer spied her, their small urchin faces lifted into a grin that Paige would never forget.
    â€œPaige!” The girls squealed, then raced over and dragged her to the chair. “Look, we made you a tulip,” August said.
    â€œYou can sit between us.” Summer pointed to a bright orange child-size chair.
    Paige grinned and made a show of examining the jagged edges of the paper flower. “It’s beautiful. Purple tulips are my favorite.”
    â€œAugust cutted it,” Summer said hesitantly.
    â€œAnd Summer wrote your name,” August said.
    â€œIt’s perfect,” Paige said, her chest tightening at the insecurity in the girls’ eyes.
    â€œNo, it’s not,” Summer said. “The g ’s crooked.”
    And they’d left out the i , but Paige would never tell them. She chewed her lip, wondering if their mother had criticized them instead of praising their efforts. She scooped up Summer, then August and gave them both a hug. “Well, it’s perfect to me because you took the time to make it.” She kissed them on the cheek, wondering if her momentary display of affection had embarrassed them. “And I love it,” she added.
    But instead of embarrassment, Summer beamed, her little cheeks rosy pink, and August grinned so wide her tongue popped through the hole where she’d lost a tooth. Then August dropped into the chair with a thud and pointed to the cookies the kids had decorated. “Sit down, Paige. We made cookies, too.” The two-inch thick icing had run down the sides of the sugar cookie and sprinkles loaded the top, but Paige squeezed into the small chair, willfully ignoring the messy decorations and the calorie content as she smiled and nibbled on the gooey desserts. “Yum, these are delicious.”
    â€œLadies and children,” a smaller fair-haired woman said. “I’m Ms. Benson, the four-year-olds’ teacher. I’d like to welcome you.”
    Everyone broke into applause. “We hope you enjoy the refreshments and short program we’ve planned. Feel free to browse around the center before you leave.”
    Everyone clapped again and Summer and August raced to the food table for drinks. Paige studied the proud moms as they exclaimed over their children’s artwork. A couple of grandmothers sat at another table, and Paige relaxed slightly, grateful she wasn’t the only fill-in.
    The children served the punch with a minimumamount of spillage. Paige thumbed through the booklets containing Summer’s and August’s drawings, concerned when she noticed August had used the color black for her family portrait. She’d obviously been upset when she’d drawn the picture. Then she scanned Summer’s and frowned. Summer looked forlorn and was standing alone in all her drawings.
    The teacher called the kids to the front, then introduced the music teacher who’d organized the program. August and Summer waved, then took their places, singing with animation to a litany of silly children’s songs. As the children burst into the last song, they invited the moms to join in. Paige willingly followed as August and Summer dragged her between them. To the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” the children substituted their own words,