Twins in College

It was a nice, leisurely afternoon of shopping with my big brother. We bought holiday gifts for our parents and a few other relatives, and – most importantly to us – we bought our first holiday tree, along with the appropriate decorations for it.

It was an artificial tree, about six feet tall including the base. Fortunately, it came in a smaller-than-expected box with a built-in plastic handle, so I could carry it easily while my big brother carried the rest of our purchases. As we sat on a bus headed back to our neighborhood, I looked forward to decorating the tree, as it had always been one of my favorite moments of the holiday season.

"You're beaming," my big brother noted softly, patting my thigh.

I smiled at him, indeed happily anticipating the evening ahead. "It's our first holiday season alone, just you and me. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

With no one else sitting near us, my big brother took my hand in his, and my heart seemed to swell in my chest.

We finally returned to our apartment and deposited our purchases. He took my hand in his again and pulled me close. The kiss we shared was long and sweet, full of tenderness and love. Then he simply held me for a long time, and I leaned against him, feeling cherished and protected.

"Let's go out for dinner tonight," I finally suggested, "somewhere nicer than usual."

We ate at an upscale Chinese restaurant on Solano Avenue, a place Valerie had recently suggested, and we were definitely not disappointed. The decorations up and down the street truly gave the entire area a festive atmosphere, even though there was no snow to accompany the jubilant season. When we finally boarded a bus to return home, the seasonal atmosphere traveled with us in the group of (likely) Berkeley students dressed as elves, probably headed to a party.

"Are you glad to be off work tonight?" my big brother asked as the bus passed through the tunnel that reminded me so much of the opening to Ridge Racer IV.

"Definitely," I replied with a smile. "I do wish Mom and Daddy could be here to see the tree when we finish the decorating, but at least you and I get to do it together."

He laughed, and it took me a moment to catch the unintended double-meaning. If other around us heard and understood the reason for his laughter, they did not react... fortunately.

Once back in our apartment, I made coffee while my big brother lit a number of candles in the living room and put on a CD of instrumental versions of holiday songs. When I brought the coffee to him, he looked particularly nice in his all-black attire: shoes, socks, slacks, belt, shirt. I noted how his eyes drank in the vision of his own baby sister, clad in a snug black dress with matching stockings and heels, and noticed the how his eyes lingered upon the low neckline. Nothing was said for several pregnant moments as we drank and gazed upon each other, the soft music being the only sound.

"Shall we get started?" he finally offered.

We took our time opening the box with the artificial tree and the various packages of decorations. Once we had everything spread out across the living room, including the decorations our parents had sent a week earlier, we began to construct the tree. With all the branches snugly in place, we took a quick break to finish the coffee, then began to add the lights: two strands of white lights and three strands of multicolored lights wound around the branches in a haphazard, crisscrossing pattern which would likely be somewhat awkward to unravel in January. Next came the ornaments: a few which had been in the family for generations, the ones our parents had sent, the ones we had bought that afternoon, and even a few we had made in art classes in school.

The tree skirt was next, my big brother kneeling to wrap it around the base of the tree. While he worked under the tree, I retrieved the final three items: two ornaments and a star. These two ornaments were rather plain in appearance: large white balls sprinkled with gold glitter. But what made these ornaments special to us was that they bore our names: Vicki and Victor.

At last, my big brother stood and turned to me. I held out the two ornaments to him, and he smiled – it was clear that these two items also held a special meaning for him. He located a branch at the front of the tree, about halfway up, and added both ornaments, then I handed him the star to add to the very top of the tree, and he stepped back to inspect his work.

We cleaned up the living room, then I sat on the sofa as my big brother plugged in the lights. The tree looked absolutely beautiful, the contrast of white and multicolored lights adding a visual appeal. The tree itself was smaller and less densely decorated than what our parents would have this year, but there was one significant difference: This particular tree was ours and ours alone.

As my big brother approached the sofa, I thought of the meanings of how he had placed the Vicki and Victor ornaments: touching. Anyone who knew us would likely think of it as a symbol of the close bond my big brother and I had always shared. But to me, it represented the inseparable nature of our lives, the way we were practically fused together.

"Put out the candles," I suggested, and he did before he joined me on the sofa. In the light of our first holiday tree, we held each other close, essentially mimicking the position of those two special ornaments.

"Happy holidays, baby sister," my big brother whispered. "You're the best possible gift I could ever have." Then he kissed me, adding to the warmth I already felt both in the air and deep within me, and we spent the rest of the evening on the sofa, our hands exploring and our lips adoring each other. It was a beautiful way to end the day, and to begin the holiday season.