In Melodie's room, Chris said, "I'm taking Melodie and the twins to the hospital. I'll be back as soon as possible. I'd like another doctor to check Melodic over, and, of course, the twins need to be put in incubators until they weigh five pounds. The boy weighs three pounds thirteen ounces and the girl three pounds seven ounces . . . but nice healthy babies, even so.
"In your heart you'll fit the new twins and love them just as much as you did Cory and Carrie." How did he know each time I looked at those small babies, visions of "our" twins came to haunt me?
Glowing, Jory was at the breakfast table seated beside Bart when I entered our sunny room saved for special mornings. The plates were bright red on a white tablecloth, and a bowl of fresh holly was the centerpiece. Poinsettias were everywhere, both red and white.
"Good morning, Mom," said Jory as he met my eyes. "I'm a very happy man today . . . and I saved my news to tell Bart until you and Cindy and Dad arrived."
Small happy smiles played about Jory's mouth. His bright eyes pleaded with me not to hold anger, as once Cindy stumbled in, all sleepy and tousled looking, Jory proudly announced that he was now the father of twins, both a girl and boy whom he and Melodic had decided to name Darren and Deirdre. "Once there were C- named twins. We're following precedent a little, but traveling further through the alphabet."
The frown on Bart's face was envious, scornful, too. "Twins, twice the trouble as one. Poor Melodic, no wonder she grew so huge. What a pain--as if she didn't have enough problems."
Cindy let out a squeal of delight. "Twins? Really? How wonderful! Can I see them now? Can I hold them?"
But Jory was still bristling from Bart's cruel remark. "Don't count me out, Bart, just because I'm down. Mel and I have no problems we can't
overcome--once we're gone from this place."
Bart got up and left his breakfast uneaten.
Jory and Melodic were going to leave and take the twins with them? My heart sank. My hands on my lap worked nervously.
I didn't see the hand that took mine and pressured my fingers. "Mom, don't look so sad. We'd never cut you or Dad out of our lives. Where you go, we'll go--only we can't stay on here if Bart doesn't start acting differently. When you need to see your grandchildren, all you have to do is yell--or whisper."
Around ten Chris drove home with Melodie, who was put immediately to bed. "She's fine now, Jory. We would have liked to keep her in the hospital for a few days, but she made such a fuss that I brought her back. We left the twins in the nursery, put in separate incubators until they gain weight."
Chris leaned to kiss my cheek, then beamed brightly. "See, Cathy. I told you everything would work out fine. And I do like those names you and Melodic chose, Jory. Really fine names."
Soon I carried a tray up to Melodic, who was out of bed and staring out of a window at the snow. She began to speak immediately.
"I'm thinking of when I was a child and how much I wanted to see snow," she said dreamily, as if babies out of sight were also out of mind. "I always wanted a white Christmas away from New York. Now I have a white Christmas, and nothing has changed. No magic to give Jory back the use of his legs."
She went on in that strange, dreamlike way that frightened me. "How am I going to manage with two babies? How? One at a time was the way I planned it. And Jory won't be any help . . ."
"Didn't I say we'd help?" I said with some irritation, for it seemed Melodie was determined to feel sorry for herself no matter what. Then I understood, for Bart stood in the open doorway.
His unsmiling face showed no expression. "Congratulations, Melodie," he said calmly. "Cindy made me drive her to the hospital to see your twins. They're very . . . very . . ." He hesitated and
finished-- "small."
He left.
Melodie stared vacantly at the place where he'd stood.
Later Chris drove Jory, Cindy and me to the hospital to again look at the twins. Melodie was left in her bed, deeply asleep and looking very worn. Cindy took another look at the tiny babies in their little glassed-in cages. "Oh, aren't they adorable? Jory, how proud you must feel. I'm going to make the best aunt, you just wait and see. I can't wait to hold them in my arms." She was behind his chair, leaning over to hug him "You've been such a special brother . . . thank you for that."
Soon we were home again, and Melodie was asking weakly about her children, then falling asleep as soon as she knew they were fine. The day wore on without guests who dropped in, without the telephone ringing with friends to congratulate Jory on becoming a father. How lonely it was on this mountainside.
Shadows
Fade Away
.
Miserable winter days slipped by, filled with
myriad trivial details. We'd gone to a party on New Year's Eve, taking Cindy and Jory with us. Cindy finally had her chance to meet all the young men in the area. She'd been an overwhelming hit. Bart had failed to join us, thinking he'd have a better time in an exclusive men's club he'd joined.
"It's not a club for only men," whispered Cindy, who thought she had all the answers. "He's going to some cathouse."