[Charlotte]The two of them look at one another, and their looks of shock and chagrin are so similar I almost start to laugh, despite my confusion. They look nothing alike physically--he is a tall man with lightly tan skin, deep hazel eyes, and curling chestnut hair and she is a petite woman with dark skin and a tight afro, but the family resemblance in how they move is almost uncanny.“She’s my other mother,” he explains with a lopsided grin. He knows I’m going to be upset with him for this trick of his, but he also seems happy to introduce us. “Charlotte, this is Rosalie, the woman who adopted me after my family died.”Ah, I see. She’s his foster mother. “And you thought it would make more sense to sneak her dresses into the lineup rather than just introduce her directly?” I give him a side-eyed look that hopefully conveys how crazy his plan is. “Couldn’t we have just gotten together and had lunch?” “Actually, cher, that was my original idea,” he confesses. “But then after this mo
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