Two's company, Three's a crowd on Alumni

Annette Pierce

August 23, 2021 8:46 PM

Two's company, Three's a crowd by Annette Pierce

OOC: May edge into PG-13 territory for implications though nothing is said outright. BIC:

Annette and Annabelle Pierce stood together, looking at the vial of swirling potion with identical looks of dismay on their faces. "That's the third one. I don't think we brewed it wrong three times," Annette said, the first to accept what they could both clearly see in front of them.

Annabelle shook her head, her expression becoming more worried. "We're already barely treading water, Annette. We played Quidditch. We've got our own businesses. We've turned down every betrothal offer that has come for either of us." Not that there were many. Few men were interested in a pair of girls who wanted to run both a fashion boutique and an apartment building for single working women who would rather have a career than a husband and family. To say nothing of the fact that the Anns were more than a little co-dependent and creeped some people out. "When we started the apartment, we very nearly got disowned then for undermining pureblood ideals. This gets out, Mother will disown us for sure."

"One of us will be," Annette agreed grimly. "But only one of us got pregnant." She pointed at the other potion vial that didn't have the shimmery reaction that indicated a positive result.

"Could have as easily been either of us," Annabelle pointed out. "Neither of us is getting disowned on her own. We do this together, like we always have. Maybe we can bring back poor scapegoated Ann Pierce. If Mother can't tell who's pregnant, she won't know who to disown."

Annette shook her head. "Ann worked because we could switch out who was playing Quidditch, and the other could have an alibi. We can't switch out who's pregnant, Annabelle."

"So you be Ann all the time, and I'll pretend to be both myself and you. And we can hide it for months. I'll design you some nice clothes that will hide a bump up until it gets really noticeable, and then we can use illusions . . . We shouldn't even need Ann until the last month or two."

It was a nice thought, but Annette was sure it would only serve to delay the inevitable. They weren't children anymore, and an illegitimate baby was hardly the same as playing on a school Quidditch team.

"Derwent the Original had bastards and he didn't get disowned," Annabelle pointed out before Annette could pop any holes into her plan. "That's what started the whole California branch."

"First, Derwent the Original wasn't a girl, and there's a double standard. Second, he abandoned his kids in California when he decided he was done fooling around and wanted to start a proper family. I carry this kid, I'm keeping it."

"We're keeping it," Annabelle promised loyally. "Together. Do you think we can hide the whole thing, and just say we adopted it? Mother won't disown us for adopting, will she? She's pretty much given up that either of us will find a husband. She might actually approve of us taking in a child to raise together."

Annette bit her lip. "It'll be tricky." She might need to use a muggle doctor to keep it more on the down-low, so word couldn't get back to Mt. Pierce, or any pureblood circles, but they just might pull it off. It was still early. They had time to plan and work out all of the details. They were clever. They were tricksy. They were Pecari. "But we can give it a try. If it blows up in our faces, we're no worse off than if we just came clean to start with." She pause a moment for effect and narrowed her eyes. "But we are not calling me Mother and you Father."

Annabelle sniffed primly. "Of course not. I did not fertilize you."

Which brought up another point. "What do we do about Arthur?"

"Why would we do anything about him?" Annabelle seemed entirely confused by why Annette was even bringing the fellow up at all.

"Do we tell him about this?"

"I don't know how to use those muggle contraptions he gave us his number for, do you? I don't think I even kept the paper he wrote it on." She opened her purse and started sorting through it. After a few moments, she shook her head. "No, it's not here. Is it in yours?"

Annette summoned her purse to her and opened it. It contained only the wallet that had her muggle money in it, but she looked through that and found only the handful of paper bills and the coins she had gotten in change from their evening out a few days ago.

When they'd turned 11, they had just started to learn magic at Sonora Academy. When they turned 22, they were freshly graduated from college and making the first steps to opening their own business. For their 33rd birthday, they'd wanted to try something new and different, do something special for the day when their age again incremented to contain two numbers that were as identical as they were. They hadn't planned to start a family, but it looked like the eleven times tables were just destined to be significant life years for the twins.

"I don't have it either," she admitted, not remotely broken up about it. Arthur had been a nice enough guy for what they'd wanted him for, but though he might have wanted to meet up for further adventures, the Anns hadn't planned to ever see him again. He'd been an pleasant birthday fling, free of obligations and responsibilities and pureblood expectations, and for that he'd been perfect. He'd even said twins were hot, and he hadn't called them creepy once.

For a father to her child, though, he wouldn't have been Annette's first choice. Though, to be honest, nobody else had been either. Annette hadn't ever planned to procreate at all.

With no way to contact him, and not even knowing his last name to try to track him down, it didn't look like it was going to matter that he'd been the one to win that particular lottery. The attempt to find his number wasn't much more than a polite effort anyway. Annette had never needed a man before and she didn't want one now. Annabelle was the only partner she'd ever needed or wanted. That was as true for rearing a child as it was for running a business. Frankly, she was glad the slip of paper had gone missing. She didn't want to share her family with anyone but Annabelle.

"We could go by the bar again, see if he's there?" Annabelle suggested, though it was clear to Annette she had as little interest in finding Arthur as Annette did.

"I'd rather not," Annette declined. "We don't want a reputation for frequenting that kind of place. If we're going to hide this, we need to look pristine for the next nine months."

"It smelled bad anyway." Annabelle said dismissively, and she wasn't wrong. It had smelled too much like alcohol, particularly the cheap swill, and some of the other patrons had been smoking nasty little white cigars outside and the stench had clung to them. Arthur had not touched either of those nasty odorous poisons. The Anns had standards.

"The good news is that it's not unusual for me to get lost in my office for months at a time, and only emerge when I've cleared the backlog of paperwork, so if we time it right nobody will even notice anything amiss," Annette mused.

Annabelle nodded in agreement. "And the one or two appearances you do have to make, I can handle. We've differentiated our styles enough now that I just need to straighten my hair, dress in less vibrant colors, and swish, nobody will suspect I'm not you."

1 Annette Pierce Two's company, Three's a crowd 247 1 7 Annabelle Pierce