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Elizabeth Beatrice looked from one small face to the other. “Which one are you?”
The twins exchanged looks, grinned, and said each other’s names at the same time.
Molly said, “It’s the other way around. They like to twist you up, if they can get away with it. You can tell them apart because Gage fell out of a tree last year. See the small scar just above this left eyebrow? Sorry, guys, you’re busted.”
Elizabeth Beatrice lightly touched a fingertip to each small face. “Cal and Gage. I like your names.”
“Papa named us.”
“Mama was too tired to think about it.”
“I can only imagine.” She smiled at Emma, still hanging back.
“Why do you have two names?”
She cocked her head to one side, sending her thick black curls cascading over her shoulder. “Well, my mother told me she’d never make chocolate biscuits for me again if I didn’t use both names. I love biscuits so what can I do? And you’re Emma. I’ve streamed your concerts, and marveled. I admired you before I met your grandfather. It really is a pleasure to meet you. Goodness, now I’m related to a piano prodigy.”
Emma looked from her grandfather back to her new step-grandmother and couldn’t help but grin. His new wife was maybe twelve years older than she was. “Thank you. I love your accent.”
Elizabeth Beatrice looked over their heads to see Ramsey walking into the suite living room. He wore slacks, a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She blinked, did a double take.
Molly didn’t blame her. Ramsey was a beautiful man, all tough-looking and stern like the judge he was, until he smiled, and that’s what he did when he saw Elizabeth Beatrice, a dark eyebrow shooting up in question.
After Ramsey was introduced to her, Elizabeth Beatrice dropped to her knees to the twins’ eye level and motioned for Mason to hand her the two wrapped boxes. “You’ve been very patient, Gage, and yes, I know it’s you. This one is for you. And, Cal, here is your almost Easter present.”
There were shouts and ripped paper, then silence for about three seconds, then more shouts as the twins lifted out wooden trains, four cars each, exquisitely rendered by a wood carver in Prague, Mason told them. “We spent a week in Prague. Elizabeth Beatrice hadn’t been there since her childhood.”
Molly said, “Good going, you really scored. But now you’ve set the bar really high. The mind boggles at what they’ll expect on their birthdays much less Christmas.”
Elizabeth Beatrice said, “My younger brother, Thomas, adored trains when he was their age. Actually, he still does.”
Elizabeth Beatrice turned back to the twins. “See the dining car? The tables are set and there are glasses. Soon the passengers will come in for their dinner.” And within five minutes of her arrival, Elizabeth Beatrice had made two little boys her slaves.
Mason Lord walked over to Emma as their new step-grandmother showed the boys their trains. “We brought you something, too, Emma.” He handed her a flat box.
