Chapter 14

I got a call from Edward Moresby later in the week. Chrissy and I walked to the house and met him on the porch.

We walked in together, and it was spotless. Not a thing out of place. Her last snack must've been graham crackers and milk. I cleaned up the crackers and Christine poured the milk down the sink.

"Edward—is it OK if I call you that, Sir?"

"Sure can, Chris—what is it?"

"My Dad had an idea that I'd like to do. And that is writing an article for the paper, not an obituary or a eulogy, but a story about Ethel and Edward Moresby, 'Twins in the 40's.' I'd like to interview you and then get some of her papers that told me about her life back then. It will not be a 'salacious tell all, ' but a love story, about how a brother and sister grew very close before he went off to war."

"That's a wonderful idea, Chris—give me a day or two to look through all of this stuff, then we can sit down and talk. Maybe share stories about our sisters," Edward said.

"Certainly Sir, do you wish to go through her things first by yourself—we understand?" Chrissy said.

"That would be nice of you. I sure am happy the last people she spoke to were the two of you. I'll give you two a call—let me make some sense of everything," he said.

"All right Sir, we are very sorry for your loss," I said on our way out.

"Christopher, for the first time since people have been using that expression, I feel your pain, and I know you feel mine. See ya," he said.

We got back home and told Mom and dad about our discussion. They were hopeful for me.

Dad called us all in for a family discussion—we hadn't had one of those since before Christine and I had our birthday party.

We were all sitting down, as Dad cleared his throat.

"OK, I have good news, at least I hope it is," he said.

"Richard, go ahead and just say it, after what's happened to this family in the last couple of months, it can't be that much of a surprise," Mom said.

"I've been given a promotion at work, it means a lot more money, but there's a hitch." He purposefully paused for a moment, and said, "The promotion means we need to move."

"Wow, Dad—that sounds exciting," I said. "Where to exactly?"

"Yeah, Daddy, where are we moving to?" Christine said.

"Richard, where in Connecticut are we moving to?" mom asked.

"Olivia, it's not in Connecticut, the promotion means moving to Utah, Cedar City to be specific," dad said. "The company is paying for the move."

Mom got up on his lap and gave him a great big kiss. Chrissy did the same with me. Good news has its advantages.

"I've been given four tickets to fly there, so we can find a home to buy. How's that sound to you all?" dad clearly undersold. "How soon can you all be ready to go?"

"Chrissy and I can be packed in 30 minutes, Pop!" I said. She gave me a kiss right after I said that.

"Great, we leave in the morning to the airport, pack for two days only."

The next morning, we were all ready to go, when my phone rang.

"Hello, This is Christopher."

"Good Morning, this is Edward Moresby, Chris. I wanted to schedule our interview. I have the letters and papers for you at your convenience."

"Where are you right now, Edward?" I asked.

"At Ethel's," he responded.

"I'll swing by there in about 10 minutes, and get everything from you. From there I will develop the questions I want to ask you, as my family and I take a trip to Utah," I said.

"I don't want to hold up your plans, Chris," he said.

"No worries, has a funeral service been scheduled for your sister?" I asked. "My whole Family would like to be at it."

"Thank you, Chris. Yes it has, it'll be in four days, at the Bess Israel Cemetery, at noon," he replied.

"Perfect, see you in a few minutes, Sir!"

I explained to everyone what just happened. We pulled up to the house and saw a number of people there, including some kids our age.

Edward walked up to my folks and said, "You have quite the children."

"Edward, this is Richard and Olivia Connelly, our parents. Mom and dad, this is Ethel's twin brother, Edward," Chrissy said.

A wonderful looking elderly woman turned and said, "Is this the young man who found your sister, Edward?"

"Yes, Ma'am—my name is Christopher Connelly and this is my twin sister, Christine and my parents, Richard and Olivia."

He introduced us all to his wife, Mary, son Daniel and his wife Toni, and his four grandchildren, John, Jeff, Ethel and Bridget.

He leaned into me and said, "I haven't told them anything ... yet—but by the time you come back at the funeral services they will know everything."

He handed me a satchel of papers and documents, and said, "Most of those are originals, so be careful with them please?"

"Sure thing, thank you—You have family to help you through this, use their support. My parents are my foundation in all things, see you in four days," I said.

"Let's roll to the airport, Dad!"

We flew from Hartford to Salt Lake City, and transferred to a smaller plane to get to Cedar City, where Dad got a rental car.

In the little bit of time I spent on the Internet before we left, we'll be leaving a town of 125,000 people for a town of less than 28,000 people. It was very beautiful. Cedar City is home to the Southern Utah University, home of the Utah Shakespeare Festival.

Dad drove to the Coldwell Banker Office and we were looking at homes within the hour.

Hartford was 59 feet above sea level and Cedar City is 5,846 feet, over a mile high. I'll bet it gets cold and snows, which I was actually looking forward to. It would give me another reason to keep my sister warm.

Not knowing anything about real estate, we saw a few places and after about two hours of looking, we found a place we all liked. Mom and dad made an offer.

We stayed at a Best Western Hotel, where Chrissy and I looked over the documents that Edward gave me. Mom and dad left for a few errands but we stayed behind.

There were a series of letters between the two of them, Ethel and her twin brother. His were always written to his 'little girl, ' while Ethel's were written to 'Eddie.'

Chrissy and I read them all, generating a lot of tears along the way. Using them, we put together a series of questions to ask Edward when we get back.

That having been done, we decided to take some personal time. We had our own room, a connecting room to our folks.

We started to make out, me on my back and Christine lying atop me, although we both kept our clothes on. We had no idea when the folks would show up.

She started moving down my body, probably heading to give me a blowjob.

"Christine, I don't think..."

"Ssshh, don't think. Let me please?"

She unzipped me and pulled out my quite firm dick, and smothered it with her open mouth. She quickly had me moaning as she used her hand to get me even harder.

"Chrissy, I'm—I'm so close. Be ready—I'm..."

The door opened just as I started to cum in my sister's mouth. Mom and dad covered their eyes and walked in.

"Sorry, don't mind us, we're leaving again—Don't stain the bedspread kids," dad said chuckling as they left as quickly and they came.

"Jesus, Chrissy—that was crazy, awesome and foolish, but damn good too," I said catching my breath.

Mom and Dad left something behind, a box with an Apple Logo and a note that said, 'This is an early Xmas present, you two deserve it."

I let my girl open it to find two brand new IPhones, with two stand-alone chargers. Talk about being surprised. Using one we figured out how to transfer our existing numbers and in a matter of minutes, we had smartphones. Dad said he was getting more money at this new job. I don't think we had expected to be beneficiaries so quickly.

They came back to take us all to dinner at the Cedar Creek Restaurant on Main Street, which had great food and great service. I picked up a bus schedule as we went to find the school we would be going to in the fall, Canyon View High School. It looks really nice and much cleaner than what I'd been expecting.

Using my phone, I looked up the weather for Cedar City, finding that we would be having cooler weather than back in Hartford. Much less snow, but the occasional below zero days would likely happen during the winter months.

We did all we wanted to accomplish, so we headed back to Connecticut. I was eager for my interview with Edward.

I called him to set up our interview.

"Hello, this is Edward Moresby."

"Hello, Sir, this is Christopher Connelly."

"Change of plans, Chris—my family took the news very badly. I will not be interviewing with you, after all. How soon can you get me back the documents I left with you?"

"I'm sorry Edward, I clearly understand your predicament. I can get things back to you first thing in the morning?"

"Wonderful, see you at Ethel's at 8am?"

"Sure thing," I replied.

Dad had a copier in his office, so I copied the most pertinent papers that evening, and Christine and I brought the originals back to Edward the following morning.

His son Daniel was with him. Edward was looking through what I handed him, making sure I had brought it all back, I suppose.

"Daniel, could we talk to you for a moment, please?" I asked.

"Certainly—Chris, isn't it?" he replied.

"Yes, and this is my twin sister, Christine," I added.

"We both spoke to Ethel before she died for a while. She spoke of her brother in loving tones, as you would expect a sister to. She implied that he had died over in London during the war."

"Yes, my father explained that much to me," Daniel answered.

"She loved him much more than a sister should, especially in that era. Let me show you a letter he had sent her?"

"OK."

I handed him a letter from the beginning of his war stint.

He looked it over, and he clearly was moved by it, but said, "It was his own flesh and blood sister, Chris—I just can't get over that part of it."

I handed him her response to his letter. This time he was more moved by the words, I saw a tear.

"Sir, I know firsthand how easy it is to fall in love with your own sister—Christine and I have been lovers since the end of February. We have never been closer than we are today," I said, giving her a nice kiss to demonstrate our affection to one another.

Edward walked back towards us, as Daniel went up to his father and said, "Dad—I'm so sorry for being so judgmental about all of this. Chris showed me some letters between the two of you, and also explained his love for his own sister. I'm OK with this, go ahead and have your interview with this remarkable young man with his cute sister."

The hug between the two of them was so very heartwarming, Edward mouthed, 'Thank you, ' to Chrissy and me.

"Is now good for an interview?" he asked.

We all sat on the front porch, Chrissy on my lap and Edward sitting with Daniel behind him, with his hand on his father's shoulder.

Twenty minutes later, we were done and I explained, he would get first look before I let anyone print the story.

We waved goodbye and we headed home together.

"Christopher, sometimes I am amazed at the things you think of. The only reason you had me come with you was for that kiss, wasn't it?"

"That ... and I love you, my dear sweet sister!"

We went back and using Christine as my typist on Dad's computer, we wrote together a 1,200 word article about Edward and Ethel titled, 'A Brother and Sister in the 40s.'

I had Mom look it over, who found a few grammatical problems. We fixed those. After Dad came home, I thrust it in front of him to read before he started his evening newspaper.

He clearly was overcome with the parallels between the Moresby story and the story of my sister and I.

"Damn, Christopher—that looks nice, reads well and doesn't give away their secret. Good Job—you may have a future in writing for a living, son. You have a nice style."

"Thanks Mom and dad, I couldn't have done it without either of you, or this beautiful twin sitting on my lap."

I called Edward and set up a time to show him the five-page story. We met, he approved and dad took Christine and me to the Hartford Courant, where I asked to speak to someone about a human-interest article I wrote. They gave me a list of the columnists who work at the paper and after perusing them I picked Gina Barreca.

She happened to be there and agreed to meet with my sister and me.

We introduced ourselves and handed her what we wrote. As she read it, I noticed that she was getting a little emotional. She read the entire article and put it down.

"Well, Christopher—this is quite the fictional story you've written, you should publish this yourself," she said.

"Ms. Barreca—this all happened, just up the street from where we live. Ethel died a week ago, not knowing her twin brother survived the war in London. I was given the letters they wrote back and forth, along with having an in-depth interview with each of them, including Ethel only an hour before she died, sitting on her front porch," I related.

She replied, "That is quite the story you have there, young man. I suppose I could take what you've written and polish it a little..."

"Actually if your paper isn't interested in this story as-is, I guess that we can always take it to one of the other dozen newspapers in Hartford. I thought of the Courant, since our father reads both editions of your paper seven days a week. Thank you for your time, ma'am?" I said getting the article back from her.