Holly Peters picked up her press pass at Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. Reporters and photographers bustled around her as if she didn’t exist. But she did and she was here in New York City at the parade. How exciting! She put the pass over her neck and retied her bright red scarf around her neck. Smiling, she stood against the wall and just watched all the excitement. She turned to find her best friend Alli. Someone grabbed her arm, she whipped around and it was a tall thin good looking man in a black woolen coat. He had hazel eyes and soft puppy dog brown hair.
"Ivy, you look so amazing. How long has it been, three years?" he asked.
Holly smiled, "I’m sorry but I am Holly Peters, you must have me confused with someone else."
He blushed, "I’m sorry. You look exactly like one of my friends from college. She’s a reporter, her name is Ivy."
"Well they say everyone has a twin so I guess maybe I do. I’m a reporter too," Holly said.
He shook her hand, "I’m Brad and I should’ve known you weren’t Ivy, you are actually smiling."
***
Ivy Anderson, picked up her press pass and slung it over her neck. The Thanksgiving Day parade? Freaking great. She was tired of happy little fluff pieces. She needed the job because she didn’t have many options. She was on probation. How was she supposed to know her source was a drug addict and a pathological liar? He was a good liar. He passed the polygraph with flying colors. So she wasn’t fired but put on happy duty. Ivy looked over at the people standing in the streets and behind the scenes. This would be a perfect time for something bad to happen and she would be here. She would get the eye witness accounts save face and save her career. And who knows a story with such atrocity would win her the Pulitzer.
"Holly, here you go I had to stand in line for a half an hour and then I got lost. So I am so sorry if it’s a little on the cold side," someone said behind her.
Ivy turned around, a woman her age with flaming red hair fiddled with her phone as she held out a large latte. Before she could speak, the woman kept talking, "I called David but he’s already at work and mom says the kids will be watching me on Tv. I told her that I don’t think they will see me on TV but I guess you never know. Hey, do you think you can take a picture of me standing in front of one of those balloons. I would love to have my picture taken with Snoopy."
"I’m sorry, I am not Holly," Ivy said when she found a break.
She looked up, "oh my god I am so sorry. You look just like my best friend Holly. I mean you really look like Holly except her hair is curly. We were up early this morning and I saw the black coat and the blonde hair. I am so sorry."
"It’s fine," Ivy snubbed. Then she saw Holly it had to be Holly because she was talking to Brad, an old college friend. What kind of best friend didn’t know what her friend looked like. Holly, if that’s who she was, wore a puffy black ski coat with a bright red scarf and red ear muffs. Red ear muffs? Who wears earmuffs an adult? And her hair, she had bouncy blonde curls in a cute little ponytail. Her hair bounced as if there were a million golden Tiggers bouncing at the same time in her hair.
"Oh there she is," Holly’s best friend said.
Ivy walked over with the red-haired woman who still fiddled with her phone.
"Ivy," Brad said.
Holly turned around and stared into her own face. Ivy stared into her own face. This couldn’t be. This had to be a doppleganger, maybe this chick was evil all dressed up like a sweet present ready to assume the other’s identity.
"I can’t believe this. I am Holly Peters. You must be Ivy. Your friend here said I looked just like you."
"Ivy Anderson. Are you a reporter or something?" Ivy asked.
"I work at the Lock Haven Maven, Lock Haven’s a small town in Pennsylvania," Holly answered with a bright and beaming smile.
"Fantastic so this must be the big time for you being in New York City and all and covering the parade," Ivy said.
"Ivy, you don’t have to be a bitch. I remember when you were a little nicer. What happened to you?" Brad asked.
"The world happened to me. Maybe I see things how they are instead of a fantasy world."
Brad kissed Holly on the cheek, "good luck with your story and I will be looking forward to your call. Happy Thanksgiving Holly. Nice seeing you Ivy, take care." He disappeared into the crowd.
Holly took the coffee from Alli, "so Ivy I am guessing you work for the Times or the Post? Maybe you are a big time columnist that is syndicated or maybe you just work at some sub par newspaper and you were told to be here."
"As a matter of fact I write for the Newark Ledger with a large circulation so I am doing okay," Ivy defended herself.
"Well good for you," Holly said.
"You know I am going to say this but you guys look exactly alike. More than just similar looking strangers but actual twins," Alli said.
"That’s not possible, Alli. I am not adopted," Holly said.
"Neither am I," Ivy said.
***
Read the rest of the story in Santa's Shorts available on Kindle. Part of Kindle Unlimited.
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