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SPECIAL DELIVERY: PARTY OF TWO Photography by Rebecca Sell Stories by Kristin Davis
A look into the lives of twins
Date published: 4/10/2006
By KRISTIN DAVIS
Two pairs of blue eyes peer around a sitting room door that is open just a crack.
Susan Richards spots her two youngest daughters, who had slipped out of sight when the doorbell rang moments before.
Suzy and Sabrina stand so close their strawberry blond curls seem to flow into each other's.
The girls laugh. They've been found.
"So you're being shy," Susan says.
The girls correct her as they step into the kitchen smiling identical smiles. They're not shy. They're playing a game.
Besides, it's easy to feel relaxed and confident with your twin by your side. A twin takes the pressure off. A twin talks when you don't feel like it, takes up for you, shoulders your burdens.
It's just after 4 p.m. and Suzy and Sabrina are home from Hartwood Elementary in Stafford County, where they are fifth-graders.
They're still in their school clothes--Sabrina's wearing jeans and a black blazer with red shoes and gold hoop earrings. Suzy is also in jeans, with a paisley-print, gauzy blue shirt.
When the girls were babies, Susan dressed them alike because it was easier to buy in pairs. Once they started picking out their own clothes, the duplicates stopped. It had nothing to do with dissimilar tastes and everything to do with math.
"It doubles the amount," Suzy says.
Sabrina goes through a series of commands with their dog, Scooter, in the middle of the kitchen floor. She's the sister who wants to be a veterinarian.
Suzy stands over the stove, stirring noodles her mother started for dinner. She is the quieter twin, and listens when Sabrina starts conversations with strangers.
Identical twins Sabrina and Suzy Richards are more alike than different, their mother says, and closer than any two people she's ever known.
"Sometimes," Suzy says, "we think the same things. We guess what the other is thinking."
That's the way of twins, says Cathy Thomas of King George County. She has an identical twin, Debby Carter. They are 47.
In 1958, a doctor mistook them for one baby because their hearts beat in unison.
"You think of [your twin] as an extension of yourself," Cathy says. "You shared nine months together before you were even born. You're so used to that person being there. They're like your alter ego."
Separate but equal
Date published: 4/10/2006
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