My Spare Husband #5
Doppelganger
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I woke to a polite knock, so I slipped on my bathrobe and dashed across the wooden plank floor to unlock my bedroom door. On the other side was a smiling early thirty-something-year-old woman with the most gorgeous chocolate skin and exquisitely braided hair.
I stared until it was impolite, then smiled - a prelude to her introduction. She had also surprised me with her presence because she was somewhat breathtaking and mysterious.
She was beautiful, just like the Nubian Princesses brought to Pharoah as wives in the royal harem.
“I’m Agnes, Mrs. Chambers.”
“It’s Jess, please, or Jessica if you prefer. It’s lovely to meet you, Agnes.”
“I’m your housekeeper. Charlie recruited and trained me… well, he had me trained.”
“Trained where?’
“I attended a long housekeeping course at the British Butler Institute in St James’, London. It is the same college where Jeremy was taught. We both graduated with the highest marks in twenty years.”
“I assumed my husband taught Jeremy?”
“Charlie taught us how to please you in personal matters. You favor yellow lilies on Sundays and chicken broth when you are sick, sort of things. Our technical grounding in managing a home for a lady was learned in London where butlers and housekeepers to Royalty taught us.”
I was shocked, but not for the first time in twenty-four hours. I figured Agnes knew me well, but I hoped that knowledge didn’t run too deep. Usually, I am a private person around strangers, never confrontational or intrusive, appreciating the same in return. Some call me shy, but I prefer describing myself as polite and kind until roused when provoked.
I shook her hand and decided to open up a little. If my husband trusted Agnes, I could too.
“I hope you understand that this is all a little weird to me, Agnes.”
“Did you make love to Jeremy last night? Charlie rather hoped you would, although he wasn’t confident.”
That is what I feared most. Agnes shared a presumption that Jeremy was my new lover, too.
“My husband was right not to be confident that I would sleep with an absolute stranger on my first night here, so no, we didn’t make love, nor will we ever.”
“Such a shame, Jess.”
“I was a virgin bride, Agnes. I can’t see me ever finding another Charlie.”
“Maybe Charlie found one for you.”
She looked genuinely hopeful, and Agnes even glanced over my shoulder, her expression suggesting she hoped I was lying. Her mischievous grin was classic Charlie, and I guessed my housekeeper spent much time with my husband learning about me.
Charlie got that part of me wrong - I have no slutty girl hidden deep. Unless she is so deep, I don’t know her at all.
I craned my neck, following her eyes, ensuring I hadn’t missed something, but thankfully, my room was empty. When our eyes locked again, I smiled and raised both eyebrows.
“I promise Jeremy isn’t in my bedroom, Agnes.”
“Okay, sorry if I misspoke.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong; any confusion about who I sleep with is my husband’s doing. I’m having a baptism of fire, and some of that is an odd and bumpy ride.”
“Okay - well, Jess, I have your favorite breakfast ready.”
“What is my favorite breakfast?”
“Bircher muesli soaked overnight with a side of fresh, plump mandarin segments. I also have cranberry juice.”
“Wow. That is my favorite breakfast.”
“We know everything about you, Jess.”
“Everything?”
“I know your period starts on the fifth of next month and that you’ll need medium-flow tampons. You also prefer your sensible white cotton pant-.”
“Stop, stop, stop, please, Agnes. We can’t do this - you must ease off because it freaks me out.”
I held my hands up and closed my eyes, uttering a long, frustrating shush as though somehow I could unhear what Agnes said. I was fourteen again, and Mom was checking up on me. Fuck that.
“Too much information, Jess?”
“Yeah. Let’s slow things down a little, please.”
After she left, I showered, feeling invigorated when I was done, albeit still a bit intimidated. My husband had shared my most private details with strangers—at least Agnes was a stranger to me, although her smile, politeness, and overall disposition appealed greatly.
I wore a simple light blue linen gypsy-style skirt that almost reached my ankles. With sneakers on, I could tackle the great outdoors if a hike was on the agenda, although a skimpy T-shirt would provide minimal sun protection.
I strolled confidently into my kitchen, instantly weirded out by strangers being there. Then, as I watched them behave perfectly at home, I chuckled because, to Jeremy and Agnes, I must be the odd one out.
My breakfast bowl was empty, but when I slid onto my kitchen stool, Agnes smiled and served me a large spoonful of my favorite overnight-soaked honied oats with dried cranberries, Granny Smith apple chunks, pecans, walnuts, and almond milk.
I stared at both my helpers and beamed broadly because who doesn’t enjoy it when someone else makes them their favorite breakfast?
“I love this breakfast, Agnes, and it seems you have perfected my muesli recipe.”
“Charlie was most insistent about getting small details right, and the chilled mandarin segments were essential.”
A side plate of my favorite fruit was slid beside me. Jeremy smiled and placed a cappuccino down, completing my morning paradise, and then they both went back to their chores.
It felt weird.
Very weird.
While he labored, I eyed my so-called husband and was shocked to see that, in bright daylight, he was Charlie’s absolute doppelganger from twenty years ago. I squinted at Jeremy, focusing hard on my memories of Charlie, and saw us making love on the grass outside our Maine home.
It was him… fucking me.
“Fuck!”
“What’s the matter, Jess?”
“Nothing, Agnes.”
Jeremy had my husband’s exact facial symmetry, the same rippling chest muscles, and even the gorgeously cute, firm ass cheeks I loved to grip and playfully slap. I giggled and choked, drawing their concerned sidelong glance.
I raised a hand, begging for forgiveness.
“I’m okay, sorry.”
“Charlie said you would find the whole thing funny after you settled in.”
“It’s hard not to find this situation comical. My husband has replicated our family home in America. I cooked where you are standing just over a day ago, Agnes. Charlie and I raised our kids in this home. My laundry is in my basket, and I made love to my husband in the bed I just slept in only a few months ago before he got sick.”
“Perhaps you can make love in the bed soon.”
“You guys must stop suggesting that I have sex with a stranger, please. Jeremy is not my husband, nor will he ever be. Charlie pushed too far in that regard.”
My mind had obsessed with the tawdry memory of Charlie and me making love outdoors in Maine, and I couldn’t help seeing the guy who fucked me so nicely that day in the man standing in my kitchen now.
I was bewildered by Jeremy’s expression, which showed severe distress. He smiled politely, excused himself, and left the room.
I stared at Agnes in shock and shrugged my shoulders, holding out both hands.
“What did I do?”
“Jeremy was selected using Charlie’s psychometric profile as your replacement mate. He has studied you for years, and I fear he has probably grown fond of you in absentia.”
“I can’t believe that is even possible, Agnes.”
“Believe me, Jeremy is the most likely man in the world to fall in love with you.”
“Oh dear god, no. Poor man.”
Next Chapter:
Hi Chester thank you. The cast are slowly assembling with intrigue rising. It feels tense with a recently widowed beauty and her selected bull at odds - what next?
Awww, poor Jeremy. I wonder how long, once comfortable, Jess will be able to resist the man that looks so much like her husband. We shall see….