When my cell phone pinged for the third time, my brother, Ruben Lamonte, who currently sat across from me at the dining room table, gave me the side-eye.
Ruben and I were twins but couldn’t really be less alike other than the physical resemblance. And we were fraternal not identical.
My brother kept his dark hair short-trimmed, almost a buzz cut. I kept mine shorn in the back, long in the front, and generally dyed it according to my current whim. It was violet now. Ruben always carried a little more weight than I did and I was shorter by about two inches.
Besides the two of us at the table, Ruben’s fiancée, Margo, joined us. She looked up from her game piece at the interruption, but then went about her business taking her turn at the board game.
I used that opportunity to ignore Rub
