Mirrored Images

“But Mom, it’s my top.” Melissa shrieked as she attempted to pull the blue tank top from her sister’s grasping hands. “Stop it, Moni.” They stood in the hallway between their bedrooms.

Moniqa rolled her eyes at Melissa, then feinted to her right and triumphantly snatched the wisp of cotton from her sibling’s hand. Fake tears glistened in her eyes as their mother Vanessa walked toward them.

Moniqa turned to her mother. “Don’t you remember I asked for the blue top, Mommy, when we went to Nordstrom’s last month.” Copious tears flowed from Moniqa’s red face. “I don’t know why Melissa always wants what I have.” Moniqa wailed, stomping her tiny, white Nike-clad foot.

Vanessa glared at one daughter then the other. Her right foot clicked impatiently on the shiny, wooden parquet floor as if taps were glued to the soles of her shoes. The clacking was a sure sign that she’d had enough of her daughters bickering. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her mouth was pursed as if she’d just eaten prunes. She glared balefully at Melissa. “Hmm… I do seem to remember Moniqa asking for the blue tank. If my memory doesn’t fail me, Melissa, I bought the purple one for you.”

Vanessa rubbed her temples rapidly. “I am not up to dealing with your squabbling right now. The blue one is Moniqa’s.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and returned to her bedroom down the hallway. She slammed the door shut.

* * *

Fifteen Years later

The telephone rang loud and shrilly, interrupting Melissa Adams’ recurrent dream. She shook her head from side to side as if to push the reverie to the outer recesses of her mind. Melissa picked up the receiver and hesitantly said, “Hello?”

“Mel?” Melissa’s cousin Bernard, nicknamed Bobo, whispered softly, “You up?”

“Whatever would give you that idea?” Melissa grumbled, turning on her left side in the oak four-poster bed. She pushed her hair away from her forehead as she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The luminous red numbers read 4:00 am. “I know you’d better have a good reason for calling me this early in the morning.”

“Trust me, I have a very good one,” Bobo replied portentously.

Melissa’s heart flip-flopped. “It’s not Mommy is it…”

“No, it’s not about Aunt Van. Not this time anyway. Hell, she’ll probably outlive all of us. Mel are you sitting down?”

“Try lying down, just spit it out, Bobo. What’s the problem?”

“Well… It’s Jeremiah. You know he hasn’t been well. To be honest J is not doing too good at all.”

“As in how or what Bobo?” Melissa asked nonchalantly, trying to mask the alarm that seemed to infuse her veins at the seriousness of her cousin’s tone.

“J was diagnosed with cancer,” Bobo replied soberly.

“What kind of cancer? How long? When did you find out? I can’t believe you’re just now telling me.” The questions burst from Melissa’s mouth like rockets bursting in air.

“You know J. He didn’t divulge the seriousness of his condition until a few weeks ago. At that point, he was still waiting on test results. I didn’t see a need to mention it you until we knew something definite. The problem is that his cancer had metastasized quicker than J let on. He has bone marrow cancer. The hospital where he works, as well as his family members, have been searching for donors for a while now. Unsuccessfully I might add. You and I both know someone who might fit and be able to help him. That dear cousin of mine is why I am calling you this time of the morning.”

“Bobo, are you out of your mind?” Melissa shrieked as she sat upright. Her suddenly weak legs dangled lifelessly over the side of the bed. “I am no longer a part of the Adams family. Their concerns are not mine, especially Moniqa’s. The truth is, I haven’t been since Daddy passed away. There are times when I wonder if I ever was. My heart goes out to J but there is nothing I can do to help either one of them.”

“Sure there is. J needs a bone marrow match and you and I both know someone who might fit the bill. This is not the time to get all high and mighty on me. J’s health is a matter of life and death. If someone can’t be located soon, he’s doing to die,” Bobo informed Melissa brutally. “I know you wouldn’t want that on your conscience now, would you?” Bobo and Melissa were best friends as well as confidants. He knew which buttons to push. “That pretty much sums things up.”

“Excuse me,” Melissa said bitterly. “J has an adult son, surely he must qualify as a donor. There is no need in the world for me to involve myself or anyone else for that matter. I am sure Moniqa will do everything humanly possible to insure her husband’s survival.”

Melissa reached over to the nightstand adjacent to her bed and pulled out a rumpled pack of green Benson & Hedges cigarettes for emergency situations. Her hands shook wildly as she lit the cigarette. The lighter slipped from her hand onto her beige and burgundy Laura Ashley floral comforter. Her eyes strayed about her bedroom decorated with matching wallpaper and window treatments, then to the opened mini-blinds. The rising sunlight seemed to shimmer over Lake Michigan.

Melissa’s eyes stopped at the picture of herself and J with silly grins on their faces. The frame sat on her nightstand. The snapshot had been taken over twenty years ago when they attended college.

“Well, its time I brought you up to snuff on the Adams’ family happenings,” Bobo said. “Scuttlebutt has it that Jay isn’t J’s child. He was tested for a tissue match a few months ago and the blood types didn’t gibe. It seems Moniqa’s house is made of straw and the big bad wolf is about to blow it down.” Bobo cackled. “The last I heard, she and J are separated. So that’s why he needs your help.”

“Oh, my God,” Melissa said in disbelief, rocking back and forth as smoke poured from her open mouth. “I don’t believe it.” She laid the cigarette precariously on the edge of the nightstand and fell trembling into the bed.

“Trust me. I wouldn’t make up something like this,” Bobo replied heatedly. “Have I ever lied to you about something this important?” Bobo didn’t sound sure if he’d adequately conveyed the seriousness of J’s condition to his cousin.

“Hmm… I can remember a time or two,” Melissa replied sarcastically.

“Not when it really mattered,” Bobo countered soberly. “I know this is a lot for you to absorb. Believe me, girl, when I say you’re the last resort. J’s doesn’t have a clue that I’m talking to you. I want you to think about what I’ve said, Mel. I’ll drop by and see you after work this evening. I’m hoping you come through and do the right thing.”

“Make sure you come over later rather than early. I have a late meeting this afternoon at work, and I’m not sure what time I’ll get home.”

“Sure, cuz.” Bobo hung up the telephone.

Melissa held the telephone to her ear until the record message sounded. If you would like to make a call… She dropped the receiver listlessly. “My God, what should I do?” Melissa massaged the sides of her head. She noticed the smoldering cigarette on the nightstand, nearly burned to the end. She picked it up, opened the nightstand drawer, and pulled out a red ceramic ashtray, and laid the cigarette on it after taking a long drag.

A myriad of emotions volleyed around her head as she slowly processed the information Bobo had passed on to her. It was a good possibility that J, the love of her life and her twin sister’s husband, was dying.