My dear daughter:
There, I just said in writing what I wish I’d had the courage to say to you a long time ago. What I have to tell you will never make up for all the lost years, all the times I wish I could have held you in my arms to tell you how much I love you. Not that it would have mattered. You likely never would have let me. And why should you? Queenie loved you so much. She was about the best mother a child could have. But I loved you just the same. I can only hope that in your heart, you’ve kept a small place for me.
What I want you to know is that I’m proud of you, proud as any mother could be. I know how it must have hurt you making those beautiful dolls for my granddaughter, Ibby. I know you thought there should have been one for Birdelia. After all, she’s my granddaughter too. I wasn’t so shallow not to realize that. So that first year, back in 1964, when you made that first doll, I opened up a safe-deposit box at the bank in your name. In it, you will find your inheritance. Do with it what you want. Open up that dress shop you always talked about. And remember me every once in a while.
All my love,
Fannie
Doll turned the envelope upside down. A small key fell into her hand.
For the first time, Doll realized that Queenie had been right. She’d been living in a fool’s garden all these years. No one had kept her in this house against her will.
Doll whispered, “Of course I loved you back, Miss Fannie. Why you think I stayed?”
Doll put the letter back into her pocket and wiped her eyes once more before leaning on the doorjamb. She was waiting to hear Miss Ibby’s reaction to her mother’s story.
“Why’d you do it?” Ibby asked.
Queenie shook her head. “At the time, I didn’t see no other way. The way I looked at it, I got the daughter I always wanted. Miss Fannie, she got to watch Doll grow up. I did it for all of us.”
“I wish Fannie had told me.”
“She wanted to, baby. I could see it in her eyes. But she thought if you knew, you might never come back. She didn’t think you’d understand.”
“Did my father know?” Ibby asked.
“No, baby. No one knew except Miss Fannie . . . and Crow.”
“Does Doll know?”
Doll held her breath, waiting to hear her mother’s answer.
Queenie tightened her face. “Sure she do, but I regret the day I ever told her. Miss Fannie and I sat her down, when she were about twelve years old. After we told her, I saw how it pained her to know. It was one thing for Miss Fannie and me to share the secret. But Lawd, I never took into account that the burden of the truth would end up on Doll’s shoulders after we told her. It was awful to watch, knowing I had put her in that position. At the time, I thought she was lucky to have two mamas that loved her. I realize now that my decision to keep her may have been a cruel one. I hope she doesn’t hate me for it.” Queenie pointed a finger at Ibby. “And I know deep down she must have loved Miss Fannie, too, ’cause why else would she want that bust? Who else would want such an ugly thing? Ain’t that right, Doll?”
Doll got up and sheepishly opened the door.
“How long you been out there?” Queenie asked.
“Long enough,” Doll said.
“Come on over here.” Queenie held out her arms.
Doll gave her mother a hug and sat on the bed.
“How much you hear?” Queenie asked.
“All of it,” she said in a low voice.
“You okay?” Queenie asked.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me the story, the way you just told it to Miss Ibby?” Doll asked. “It may have helped me understand.”
“’Cause, baby. I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it. I thought you hated me for what I did.”
“No, Mama. I loved you for it. It were a mighty brave thing to do.” Doll took her mother’s hand. “Remember the day Miss Ibby first came to the house and you told me I was a seeker? Someone who was looking for something I was never gone find? Mama, you were wrong, ’cause I did find it.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “What I was looking for was right here all along. I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too, baby,” Queenie said.
“Before I forget, Miss Ibby, I got something else for you.” Doll took Fannie’s pearls from her pocket. “Miss Fannie gave these to me the morning she left.”
Ibby took them from Doll. “I thought they were lost.”
“I think you should have them,” Doll said.
Ibby handed them back. “No, Doll. She gave them to you. She wanted her daughter to have them.”
“Miss Ibby’s right, Doll. Put them on,” Queenie said.
Ibby helped fasten the pearls around Doll’s neck.
“How I look?” Doll asked.
“You look grand,” Ibby said.