“Come on now. Let’s all sing ‘Happy Birthday,’” Queenie said.
As soon as Ibby blew the candles out, Doll presented her with a life-size rag doll with brown yarn hair, a stitched-on face, and clothes that were an exact replica of the clothes Ibby had on, down to the Mary Jane shoes. Fannie, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly turned and pointed at Ibby. “That doll looks just like the little girl,” she said.
“Supposed to, Miss Fannie,” Queenie said.
Ibby stared at the doll with the oddest expression Doll had ever seen. After a few moments, Ibby leaned over and gave Fannie a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, Grandma.”
Ibby put the doll on the chair next to her, sneaking furtive glances as she ate her cake.
Doll motioned for Crow and Queenie to follow her into the kitchen. As soon as the door swung closed, she said, “She don’t like it, Mama. I can tell.”
“You done a mighty fine job on that doll. Looks just like her,” Crow said.
“Don’t make no difference,” Doll said. “Those weren’t happy-to-see-my-new-doll sort of eyes.”
“Oh, she gone like it,” Queenie said. “She just don’t know it yet.”
No sooner had the door closed than they heard a crash. Queenie and Doll rushed back into the room to find Fannie sprawled on the floor, holding her stomach and laughing. One of the cut-crystal water glasses lay shattered next to her.
Queenie motioned to Crow. “Come help get her up, then go and fetch the broom.”
“What happened?” Doll asked Ibby.
“Fannie knocked the glass over with her hand,” Ibby said. “Then she just sort of rolled out of the chair onto the floor and started laughing.”
Doll grabbed Fannie by the arm and tried to pull her up. “Come on, Miss Fannie. You’ve had a long day. We best get you to bed.”
Queenie took Fannie’s other arm, waving Crow and Doll away. “I’ll do it.”
“Need help getting her to her room?” Crow asked.
“We’ll manage just fine, won’t we, Miss Fannie?” Queenie said in a small voice, talking to Fannie as if she were a child.
Doll looked at her watch as her father went into the kitchen to get the broom. “Five o’clock. Lawd Almighty, how did it get so late?”
Crow returned with the broom and handed it to Doll. “That broom about worn out. Best pick up a new one soon ’cause you know it’s bad luck to buy a broom in August.”
Doll swept the glass into a dustpan. “This rate, Daddy, best buy two.”
“So what you gone call her?” Doll asked Ibby, hoping to distract her from all the commotion in the bedroom.
“Who?” Ibby asked.
“Your new friend here.” Doll nodded toward the doll in the chair.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Ibby shrugged, staring down at the remnants of the cake on her plate.
“Been a long day. Why don’t you run on upstairs? I’ll be up in a minute.”
After Ibby left, Doll scraped up the last of the glass shards. When she got back to the kitchen, she found Crow digging into a piece of cake he’d cut for himself.
“She don’t like it.” Doll dumped the glass into the trash can.
“If I recall,” Crow said, “you and your mama were going on the other day about how Miss Ibby say Miss Vidrine don’t believe in birthdays. Could be no one ever gave her a doll before. Ever think of that?”
Doll said, “Maybe you right. Think I better go check on Miss Ibby.”
She was making her way down the hall when she noticed the doll still sitting in the chair where Ibby had left it. As Doll tucked it under her arm, she could hear Queenie in the bedroom, trying to calm Miss Fannie down. After all these years, listening to Miss Fannie when she got this way hadn’t gotten any easier. Doll wondered how a person could become so broken.
When she opened the door to Ibby’s room, Ibby was sitting on her bed.
“You forgot this.” Doll sat down next to her and handed her the doll.
“Oh, I guess I did,” Ibby said, setting it off to the side.
“Don’t you like it?” Doll said.
“It is supposed to look like me?”
“Yeah, supposed to.”
“Do I really look like that, with stringy hair and eyes that never close?”
Doll laughed. “No, baby. Fannie thought you might like someone to keep you company up here, that’s all. Don’t worry what it looks like. Was a silly idea, I guess.”
“Doll?”
“Yes, child?”
“I think I broke Rule Number Two at lunch today. I asked her who Balfour was when she brought up his name.”
Doll stroked Ibby’s hair. “Now listen, them rules just something my mama made up. You’ll learn soon enough there ain’t no rules as far as Fannie is concerned. Just got to roll with the punches. Now listen, before I go, did you find something?”
“What do you mean? Like what?”
“Look under your pillow.”
Ibby reached under the pillow and pulled out a rectangular package wrapped in newspaper and tied with twine. She looked at Doll. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”