Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

Ann's brown eyes, only theirs seemed brighter, with specks of bronze. They had identical diminutive features: tiny button noses and wee mouths with soft but full upper lips. Side by side in their bassinets in the maternity ward, they still seemed to share the same womb, for when one began to cry the other joined in instantly. They swung their arms and clenched their doll-like hands in synchronization, their wails in harmony.
    Jimmy held Christie up to look in at her new cousins. Her eyes widened with awe as her gaze moved from one to the other.
    "We've named the boy Richard, Richard Stanley Cutler, and the girl Melanie Rose," Philip announced proudly. Then he looked at Christie and asked, "Can you say Richard and Melanie?"
    Christie nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak.
    "Go on, then," Philip coaxed. "Say it. First Richard."
    "Richard," she pronounced perfectly.
    "And Melanie Rose."
    "Mell . . ." Christie paused and looked at me. I nodded encouragement, but in her excitement she had forgotten the rest. "Mellon," she said, and we all laughed.
    "That's a nickname that will stick for sure," Philip said. "I even like it myself."
    I could have predicted Mother's reaction to Betty Ann's giving birth to twins. Bronson was excited and happy for Philip and Betty Ann, but Mother looked dazed. The sight of two more grandchildren—two more reasons for her to be called a grandmother—depressed her. She smiled and kissed Philip. She even acted motherly toward Betty Ann, but she didn't want to linger over the babies. As if she needed to flee reality, she booked herself and Bronson on a cruise the day after and was gone for the next two weeks.
    Philip hired a nurse to help Betty Ann after she and the children were brought home. The arrival of the golden-haired twins was a major event at the hotel. After they were old enough to wheel about they became a regular phenomenon, stopping the guests in the middle of whatever they were doing in the lobby or card room and drawing small crowds. The two seemed to understand their power. They smiled, cooed and grabbed fingers dangled before them. Everyone commented on their good nature.
    Christie was never more in her glory than when Betty Ann or Philip would permit her to push the double stroller through the corridors of the main building or over the garden walkways. As soon as she woke up in the morning she would ask to go visit Richard and Mellon. Nearly five now, she was old enough to rush off by herself and go to the hotel. Betty Ann described and I saw myself how seriously and maturely she handled her infant cousins. Mrs. Caldwell, the nurse, a pleasant middle-aged woman, told me she felt very confident about permitting Christie to hold the babies and even feed them.
    "And they appear to love her as much as she loves them," Mrs. Caldwell said. "I've seen them stop crying the instant Christie has one of them in her arms. It amazes me how when one stops crying, the other follows suit. I've seen twins before, but never a pair so in tune with each other's feelings and wants."
    That fall, when it came time to send Christie to grade school, she was in a terrible turmoil. She wanted to go to school very much, but she hated the idea that she would be away from the twins all day. Both Sissy and Mrs. Boston had started her reading, and she had a natural curiosity about everything. Her eagerness to learn was only harnessed by the energy of those around her who were forced to answer question after question. She could exhaust anyone with her inquiries. I couldn't help but recall poor Randolph talking to her for hours when she was barely old enough to form intelligible sounds. But she had a remarkable attention, span and great patience and persistence. When she wanted to do something she remained with it stubbornly until she satisfied herself.
    This was especially true when it came to music. Milt Jacobs, our piano player, asked me if he could work with her on the piano; he was that impressed with her abilities. He wanted to do it during his free time, just for the pleasure of seeing her grow and achieve, but I insisted he be paid for the lessons. The result was that Christie had quite a full day for a five-year-old. She was in school until two-thirty. Julius would pick her up in the hotel limousine. At three-thirty she would go to the ballroom and take her piano lesson. Then she would rush out in time to help Mrs. Caldwell with the twins' dinner.
    By now Christie was everyone's darling. I could come