Reflections in the Mirror

Posted on Sat Dec 17th, 2022 @ 4:59 by Reagan D'Angelo

Chapter: Days of Future Past
Location: London
Timeline: May, 1989
2172 words - 4.3 OF Standard Post Measure

It was a warm day, just the barest hint of a breeze to keep things moderate. An outdoor café was the perfect place to meet on such a day, and so that was exactly what Reagan had suggested when her sister had called her and said she'd be in London for some symposium or another. Rhiannon was always neck deep in academia when she wasn't working her day job as an accountant (of all things).

Reagan finished up some work, cleared her schedule for the remainder of the day at the firm, and gave her sister an address and time without hesitation. The waiter got a nod of thanks when he delivered two drinks and got a double set of smiles when he had to double take at the pair ordering. Besides dying her hair a fine red and keeping it just a little longer than her sister's, Rhiannon and Reagan really fit the image of identical twins. Reagan watched her sister as the man retreated back inside, who in turn watched the man until he was out of sight. "The barista, Rhia? Really? Whatever happened to what's-his-name? Dill pickle?"

Rhiannon huffed at her sister's audacity, attentions returned to the table before them and her drink. Before replying, she picked up her cup of iced coffee and sipped. "Dylan Pickles and I didn't work out, thank you. He was sweet enough, successful, but... boring. And what's wrong with a good view now and again? I don't travel just for the symposiums or to see my beloved sister, you know. Wasn't your type then?"

Reagan settled in her seat, relaxed backward to slouch where her sister sat proper. Normally, that was her thing, but there was a sort of dynamic between the two that went unspoken, and the older sister just played into it without even thinking. She couldn't help but smirk across at Rhiannon, hand on her cup but not quite lifting it for a test yet. "Boring? That means a lot coming from you. Suppose that's what you get for dating a tax lawyer. And you know he wasn't. Lacking a certain... quality."

Rhiannon shook her head, again taking her sister's teasing in stride while enjoying getting her own in in return. "He was a perfectly good business partner, and you know how holiday parties go. Just... took awhile for us to realize it wasn't meant to be, Rae!" She sipped at her drink again, eyeballing her sister's that mostly sat as an ornament on the table, untouched. "And what quality is that? You're so lucky you have me, you know that? Mama and papa get distracted asking me about my love life, it's like they forget they have another daughter who doesn't seem to have one at all."

Reagan could only shrug her shoulders, give her sister an innocent little smile across the table in answer. It was a silent 'that's your problem' vibe, and Reagan didn't hide her smugness there. That she'd kept her mutation such a secret from all of them for so long felt like a miracle to her, so she was happy to keep them guessing on more mundane things like who she dated. Not that her girlfriends appreciated how secretive she was, but they came and went, always leaving because she was a workaholic or too distant, not open, or seemingly ashamed of who she was. But if it meant she got to keep a big, red herring dangling that threw her family and coworkers off her deeper secret, then she was fine with maintaining that ruse. "No 'hey sis, how's the business doing?' or 'are you happy with your work?', huh? Are you even here for a symposium, Rhia, or just sick of your prospects in New York and giving London a spin?"

Rhiannon squinted at her sister across the table, a redheaded reflection judging Reagan as if it heard all of that internal monologue. Sometimes, she wondered if her sister wasn't hiding a mutation too, maybe an empath or a full-on telepath. Any moment now she'd confess and tell Reagan that she knew all of her most closely guarded secrets just to prove a point. "I'd ask, but we won't pretend I don't already know. Or did you forget my firm handles all your financials since you got a few of our 'uncles' to bankroll you? I know you're doing well. Papa's pleased. Thanks for that, by the way. Your financial independence is making him scrutinize my spending habits."

Reagan finally deigned to pick up her cup and take a sip, hiding a tiny smirk behind the affectation. "You should try it, Rhia! It's... freeing. Then again, that was never really your concern, was it? I was always the one running off or disappointing them on purpose just to see what would happen. Right? You excelled in school, helped papa with the business, even graduated top of your class from his alma mater! And there was humble me, across the pond, getting a natural sciences degree at Cambridge."

The redheaded sister laughed then, no need to hide the mocking in her tone. She sat forward to stare across at Reagan, smiling ear to ear. "See, Rae, we're twins, but that seems to be where our similarities end, right? You know it's not my fault you had to go crazy when we hit puberty. You know, normal teenagers dye their hair or get really into Aerosmith. But you… it was like a completely different person emerged from that cocoon. Look, I—”

“I get it, Rhia.” That brief interruption, almost calm, gave Rhiannon pause and made her sit back, her boiling emotions coming down to a simmer, her jaw tightening over and over again while she waited for Reagan to continue, inviting explanation that she’d never gotten without saying it out loud. Reagan could see that look in her eyes, screaming at her silently across the table. Briefly, she wondered just how much of that temper they’d gotten from their father’s Italian side, and how much from the dash of Irish in their mother. Probably both. “I get that I never really had an answer for you, or for mama and papa. And it got me sent over here to one of those all-girls colleges. But that wasn’t just them punishing me, Rhia. I asked for it. And… my only regret in what I did was what it did to the three of you. To you in particular.”

Rhiannon didn’t seem happy with that answer, and she moved forward again to confront her sister, raising a hand. That was when you knew things were getting heated in the D’Angelo family; The hand gestures got introduced to the conversation. But Reagan was ready for it, leaning forward in kind and catching Rhiannon’s hand in both of her own to squeeze and lower back to the table. “You just have to trust me, Rhiannon. This was the best possible outcome. For all of us. We’re still a family, right? I finished school, I see you and mama all the time, and now we’re both doing pretty well on our own. I just… had some growing pains to work through. And I needed to do it on my own.”

That seemed to calm Rhiannon down, at least partially. It at least got her to sit back in her chair and consider her sister, no hand gestures or anything. She even let Reagan keep one of her hands, showed just how much she missed their bonding time, when they weren’t fighting. “Are you happy, Reagan?” The question took the blonde woman aback. There was that suspicion of her sister having some sort of psychic powers again. Of course, the long pause meant any answer she gave was going to fall short, but she was on the defensive now.

“Of course I’m happy. Business is doing well, I get to be free of papa’s bank accounts, make my own hours at work…” She trailed there though, realizing how shallow and avoidant her answers were even before Rhiannon did. Her sister shook her head, as if the question were a trap to begin with. “Rae, don’t give me the surface bull. Are you really happy? I don’t believe for a second you’re satisfied with a consulting firm and a free pass to go… dig in the dirt or save fuzzy animals or whatever. When’s the last time you opened up to someone, sis? Really opened up and let them help you?”

It was Reagan’s turn then to resort to her age-old tactics. Even with her own twin sister, there just wasn’t a good reason to expose her to all the crap in Reagan’s life, past or present. Was Rhiannon wrong in her beliefs? Probably not. But were the questions ones she was going to answer honestly? Not on her life. Even as she gave an answer, tone making it a verbal stonewall, Reagan was already leaving money on the table for the drinks and moving to stand up. “You some sort of self-help guru now too, Rhia? You really aren’t here for a symposium, are you?”

Rhiannon stumbled momentarily on her words, sudden urgency at watching her sister respond so negatively. She was on the verge of being closed off again, maybe even worse than before, and she had to do something. “Reagan. You don’t have to hide that part of yourself…” That seemed to get the desired reaction, sudden anxiety flooding the blonde woman and freezing her in her step to watch her sister. The silence was deafening… did she know? “I ran into a Kristen while reviewing some of your firm’s records. And I don’t need to tell you about the hazards of having an identical twin, do I? And you teased me about workplace fraternization with Dylan...”

Sure, Rhiannon just came out with that and then tried to make light of it, even daring laugh and joke about it in the end as if it might help disarm Reagan. But it wasn’t that little discovery that really bothered her, much as it was embarrassing for one of her ex’s to accost her completely unaware twin sister as the means for that particular fact to come out. For a moment, she’d been absolutely terrified her mutant status had been revealed, that all her years of work and sacrifice had been for nothing. Truth be told, Reagan felt like she might have a panic attack there for a second. And the worst part of it all? It was all so easy to cover up and lie to Rhiannon about it, even then. “I’ve got work piling up on my desk. It was nice seeing you again, Rhiannon. Next time, don’t invite me into an ambush, alright?”

That was one way to end things. A stunned and speechless Rhiannon who watched Reagan as if the blonde twin had just shot her dog. An inwardly panicking and ultimately… disappointed Reagan who put on a pair of sunglasses from her suit jacket and set off down the street, dismissive and cold with a practiced devastation to those she was closest too. In every other aspect of her life, she wore her heart on her sleeve, wasn’t afraid to confront authority or stand up for a cause. But when it came to her mutation? Her own cowardice surprised even her sometimes. Her ex’s that accused her of being ashamed of what she was were always right, and the bitter laughter they got in response for all the irony was usually the last straw. Rhiannon didn’t so much as call to apologize after that, or to yell at Reagan as she had every right to. She could only assume her sister went back to New York, quiet and defeated. She probably didn’t even bother telling their parents about the whole thing, or Reagan’s little secret. She was a good sister like that. And that made it feel that much worse. And there, every time she looked in the mirror for weeks afterward, Reagan saw her sister staring back, reminding her of all of it over again.

It just so happened that that little incident spurred Reagan to look for that thing that might make her truly happy. A new career now that she had money? Investing herself solely into some cause or another like she always did? Call up one of those women she’d laughed at previously and see if she was even capable of opening up? It took the better part of a year for her to find something that was promising. And when the opportunity to teach at the Avalon Institute came, Reagan leapt at it with all she had to give. The day she moved into the Institute, met her students and her fellow faculty, and then found out their true natures? She silently thanked Rhiannon.