and her way of life was now shortened. Her possession of Caroline’s car had established a connection, and Gretchen vowed to do whatever she could to help Daisy. If only she would live.
Where was her mother? Gretchen’s search led her in a circuitous path, and with each loop she found herself traveling closer to Nacho and Daisy. How did a ragged collection of indigents get to occupy center stage?
Gretchen felt a gentle nudge and looked up into Matt’s questioning eyes.
She nodded.
16
Modern baby dolls have soft bodies and natural hair that can be brushed and styled. Some even have that wonderful baby smell. The need to nurture plays a key role in our love of baby dolls. We all need to give love and reach out for companionship, and we learn it at a young age. You have only to watch young children feed, dress, and cuddle their own baby dolls to understand the complex emotions of maternal joy.
—From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch
Gretchen opened one eye. She was lying in her mother’s bed. Sunlight beamed through the slatted blinds, and Wobbles rose from the bed covers and stretched luxuriantly.
Images from the night before flashed through her mind. Nina’s expression when she learned that Daisy, not her cherished older sister, lay beyond the waiting room doors. Endless phone calls, correcting false information dispersed earlier to frightened relatives. The reaction that remained central in Gretchen’s mind was Aunt Gertie’s unique analysis: “The woman who fell from your mountain obviously wasn’t murdered for love, so it had to be about money,” she had said late last night. “She hid her dolls, and everyone’s scrambling around hoping to cash in. It appears you and your airhead Aunt Nina and, of course, the cops, who never know anything anyway, are the only ones who don’t know what’s going on.”
“What about my mother?” Gretchen had asked.
“Your mother knows more than anybody,” Aunt Gertie insisted. “That’s why she’s holed up.”
Holed up? Gretchen hadn’t heard that expression since the days she watched old westerns with her father. The Hole-in-the-Wall Gang and Bonnie and Clyde. Holed up invoked images of outlaw behavior, albeit romantic, glorified criminals who died young.
Gretchen forced the image of Bonnie and Clyde’s last moments from her mind. Riddled with bullets.
Aunt Gertie’s down-home attitude appealed to Gretchen in spite of her phrase turning. She said what she meant and did what she had to do and didn’t care what others thought of her. You always knew where you stood with Aunt Gertie. She epitomized their family of mostly strong women.
Gretchen couldn’t say the same for herself. She was the exception.
She made her second vow in the last twenty-four hours. The first was to Daisy and their future relationship. The second was to herself. She would, in military terms, muster up, find those strength genes running renegade inside her, and harness them together.
Today she would wear her new attitude like a gun holster on her hip.
“Let’s go,” she called to Nina, buried under a pile of blankets on Caroline’s sofa where she had collapsed in exhaustion. Tutu’s head popped out at the bottom of the blankets next to one purple-lacquered toe. When Gretchen pulled back the covers she found Nimrod sleeping in Nina’s armpit. “Rise and shine. We’re on a mission today, and you’ll have to start out at a run to keep up with me.”
Wobbles wound through her legs while she made coffee. She dumped two extra tablespoons into the filter to symbolize her new strength and fortitude and then fed all the animals. “The dogs are staying home today, Nina. We have to stay flexible because . . .” She leaned into Nina’s blanketed form as it rose and moved toward her like a zombie from beyond. “. . . today we will either find my mother or find out what really happened, or both.”
Nina, slumped in a kitchen chair while Gretchen toasted sourdough bread and sliced a thick wedge of Vermont cheddar. “Eat,” Gretchen ordered.
She checked her array of voice machines: apartment in Boston, cell phone voice mail, and her mother’s personal answering machine. A few acquaintances in Boston wondered when she would be back, a message from Steve sounding annoyed and wanting to know what was going on “since yesterday’s fiasco,” and a message from Larry.
“I’ve put all Caroline’s projects on hold,” Larry said. “Except a few of the most pressing jobs. When I let the dogs out yesterday I also reprogrammed the voice message on Caroline’s business machine, directing all calls