“He hasn’t sent any more late-night texts?”
“Not since I told him we should limit our meetings to business hours only.”
Oliver turns to look at me with an amused smile. “You told him that?”
I shrug. I think about how I lied to Malcolm and told him I was seeing someone. I wonder if I should mention this to Oliver or if he would think it’s weird. Maybe he would think I’m getting too comfortable with our fake relationship. I’m just starting to feel like we might actually be friends. The last thing I need is to rehash what happened a year ago.
The reminder of how he embarrassed me puts a damper on my mood. I dig into my trail mix bag and stuff a handful of peanuts and M&M’s in my mouth so that I won’t have to talk for a while.
We make it to the airfield a while later. Oliver parks his truck in front of the hangar. Two men who appear to be waiting for us step out of the building and stand by the door, watching us as we get out of the truck. I look from one to the other, realizing that these two men are identical. They look like they’re in their mid-fifties. They have matching gray beards that hang down to the tops of their chests. They wear identical black leather jackets and blue jeans stained with oil.
“I’m Jimmy,” says the guy on the left. “This is my cousin, Peter.”
I do a double take. I could have sworn these men were identical. They start laughing, the same dry cackle, and then Peter says, “He’s just messin’ with you. We’re not related.”
They both cackle again, this time louder and longer. Oliver and I exchange an amused look. Now I’m not sure what to believe.
“You shoulda seen the looks on your faces,” Jimmy says. “Come on in. You want to see the planes?”
Both men turn and head back inside the building. Oliver and I follow.
“But… youaretwins, right?” Oliver asks as we reach the planes.
The men cackle in unison again. It’s hard not to laugh along with them.
“Actually, we were born on different days,” Peter says.
“Different years, even,” adds Jimmy.
“Oh. You guys look so much alike,” I say. “I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
“Must be the beards and matching jackets,” Oliver says. We exchange another look. I still can’t spot any differences between the two men other than the pattern of the oil stains on their jeans.
The men break into laughter again.
“Are you messing with us?” Oliver asks, laughing too.
“We are twins,” Jimmy says. “I was born at eleven-fifty-nine on December thirty-first, and Peter was born five minutes later in January.”
“But we won’t tell you what years,” Peter says. They laugh again. Oliver and I laugh with them.
“Anyway,” Jimmy says, patting the side of the plane. “This one’s mine. I can fly the banner. Peter’s better at skywriting, so he’ll do that one. What do you want them to say?”
“The banner needs to say ‘Will you marry me, Ryan?’” I say.
“And the smoke in the sky should spell out ‘Marry me, Tina,’” Oliver adds.
“Two proposals, huh?” Peter says. “You sure you want them at the same time?”
I nod. “They have to be at the same time, on opposite sides of the fairground. It’s important that everything is timed perfectly. Are you able to do that?”
Peter and Jimmy exchange a glance before looking back at us. “Of course we can,” they say in unison. Then they look at each other and cackle again.
“Great,” I say, feeling relieved. “What do you need to make this happen? Aside from payment, of course. Is there some kind of permit for flying over the fair? I’ve never booked anything like this before.”
“You just tell us where and when, and Jimmy and I will take care of the rest,” Peter says.
“Perfect. Thank you.”
