The Twins

Sitting in her corner office at the Chicago law firm of Dwyer and Richter, Esq., about to pop a second aspirin into her mouth, Rory Coston stopped mid throw to see the five-year old Johnson twins peaking around the small couch ready to play another round of hide and seek with themselves in the confines of her office. Rory didn’t think the spoiled blond-haired, green-eyed children were too bright for even thinking this was fun. Rory was supposed to keep an eye on the twins while their partner dad stepped out for a brief meeting that he’d inadvertently forgotten about. That was two hours ago. She had no appointments of her own and only came into the office to catch up on paperwork. Instead, she was responsible for entertaining two young boys in her clean, spacious office. Rita didn’t care for children. In fact, she found them dreadful most times. The feeling was mutual. Her boss didn’t know this and she couldn’t exactly tell him. 　　　　Dan Richter always brought his children to work the day before the Christmas holiday break. She guessed it was his way of spending more time with his kids, but he actually just let them run wild throughout the office as if it was their personal playground. As long as his name was on the door, no one could say anything. 　　　　Rita decided to take another aspirin. Chad and Chance were giving her a headache with the mere sound of their voices as they wrestled with each other. She turned up the volume of the speakers connected to her IPod in hopes to drown them out but realized the pipes on children could not be faded out. She wished she hadn’t told them they had to stay in her office or right outside the door where she could see them, but it was just her and Dan in the office today. She began to wonder if he actually needed to escape from the twins for a few hours and didn’t have a meeting at all. 　　　　As she started filing some paperwork that had accumulated on her desk, Rita felt breath on the back of her neck. She refused to turn away in hopes that Chance or Chad, she was never sure which, would give up trying to annoy her and get back to marking their territory with legos. The legos were all sprawled over her normally spotless office and this was driving Rita mad. She longed for them to go back to wrestling. 　　　　“I see-ee you!” Chance shouted loudly at the back of her neck, his hot breath feeling too heavy for his young years. 　　　　“Well, if you see me Chad, then you should see that I’m busy.” 　　　　“My name is Chance. You’re just putting papers in a folder. Is that what my dad pays you to do?” he said cocking his head from side to side. 　　　　“Chad, I mean Chance, you’re a little close. Back away from my neck please.” 　　　　“What if I don’t? What are you gonna do? Huh huh huh?” he said laughing. 　　　　Just when she thought he disappeared and turned his short attention span to something else, Chance continued his “huh” chant while Chad was now sitting across from Rita in one of the chairs facing her desk. With his arms crossed together on her desk, his chin resting on the top of his forearm, he stared at her for about five minutes without saying a word. That was perfect for Rita, the quieter the better. Then the staring unnerved her. 　　　　“What’s your problem, Damien?” 　　　　“What? I’m not—who’s Damien?” Chad said, surprising himself out of silence. 　　　　“He’s a character from a movie called the Omen. You remind me of him.” 　　　　“Why?” 　　　　“Because you’re creepy-looking. And evil.” 　　　　“No, you’re the creepy one,” said Chance, coming from behind her back and standing beside Chad who’s still in the chair. “Your teeth are crooked,” he said. 　　　　“You don’t have any front teeth, so you shouldn’t talk.” 　　　　“And your hair looks dirty and uncombed,” said Chad. “Aren’t you too old to have crooked teeth?” 　　　　“Shut up and sit down. And pick up those legos.” 　　　　“I am sitting down,” said Chad. 　　　　“Look brats, can you please just go play something, anything. Just get away from me.” 　　　　“Fine by me, I don’t want to look at your crooked teeth anymore anyways,” Chance said. 　　　　“Yeah, or your dirty hair.” 　　　　“Just as I don’t want to look at the creepy-looking Damien duo so we’re good.” 　　　　The boys went to their red backpacks that were lying on the floor to the front left of her desk and pulled out trucks to play with, all the while keeping their eyes on Rita. She could tell they were planning their next move. She would be ready for them.

#fiction #shortstories