Dollbaby: A Novel

Ibby took it from her and sat next to her on the settee. It was a telegram from an attorney in California. Ibby read it aloud. “‘This is to inform you, as next of kin, that Vidrine Crump Bell’”—Ibby paused—“‘has passed away of natural causes. As per her last request, her body will be cremated and her ashes spread into the Pacific Ocean.’”

 

Ibby’s hand dropped to her lap and the telegram slipped to the floor. She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Over the last four years, she’d spent hours thinking of what she might say to her mother if she came back. She’d never expected it to end like this. No last words. No goodbyes. No I’m sorry.

 

“I know you’re upset,” Doll said, touching her hand.

 

“I hated my mother for leaving me here.”

 

“I thought you liked it here.”

 

“That’s not it. I hated my mother for not caring enough to come back for me.” She put her head in her hands.

 

Doll slipped her arm around Ibby’s shoulders. “Oh, baby. I don’t think it was like that. I think your mother just lost her way. That’s all. I know she loved you.”

 

“And how do you know that?” Ibby said flatly.

 

“’Cause she told me so herself,” Doll said.

 

Ibby looked at Doll. “What? When would she have told you?”

 

Doll drew in a deep breath. “Miss Vidrine came by the house a few weeks ago.”

 

Ibby jumped up. “Why didn’t you tell me? My mother came back, and you didn’t tell me?”

 

“Listen to me. Your mama came by to tell you she was sorry.”

 

“I bet,” Ibby said, trying hard to hold back tears.

 

“I think she meant it, Miss Ibby. She say she didn’t mean for it to happen this way. She didn’t mean to get sick. She thought you’d be better off here, with Miss Fannie. She was destitute, Miss Ibby. She had no place to go.”

 

“Then why didn’t she come here? Why didn’t she ask Fannie if she could stay here?”

 

“’Cause I think she was too proud. I think she wanted you to remember her the way she was. She asked me to give you this.” Doll pulled the ring from her pocket.

 

Ibby wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and took the ring from Doll. “It’s her wedding ring. The one Daddy gave her.”

 

“She told me to be sure and tell you she loved you.”

 

Ibby slipped the ring onto her finger and toyed with it. “Did she really say that, or are you just making that up to make me feel better?”

 

“Your mama asked me not to say anything until she passed. It’s been on my mind ever since she came by, a few days before your party.”

 

“So she was here.” Ibby twisted the ring on her finger.

 

“Yes, Miss Ibby.”

 

“Does Fannie know?”

 

“No, baby. I was afraid if I let on to Miss Fannie, she might go riding around trying to find Miss Vidrine. I didn’t tell no one, not even Queenie.”

 

“I went looking for my mother, you know. That day I came home in the rain, I had gone looking for her.”

 

“I figured as much,” Doll said.

 

“She didn’t want me to find her.”

 

“No, Miss Ibby. I feel for sure she wanted to see you, but she was very sickly. I don’t think she wanted you to see her that way.”

 

“I just wanted to see her one last time.”

 

“Miss Ibby, I’m sorry if I done wrong, but I handled it the best way I knew how.”

 

Ibby wiped another tear from her cheek. “Don’t say anything to Fannie. I don’t think she could handle the news right now. That tree had her all worked up for some reason. I’ll tell her in my own good time.”

 

“If that’s the way you want it.” Doll grabbed Ibby’s hand. “I know it’s a shock.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Not now. Not ever.” Ibby yanked her hand away and hurried toward the door.

 

She found Birdelia standing in the driveway, waiting for her.

 

“What my mama want with you?”

 

“Nothing,” Ibby sniffled.

 

“You mad about something?”

 

“No.”

 

“You look mad,” Birdelia said.

 

“Forget about it.”

 

“What my mama say got you so upset?” Birdelia asked. “You been crying?”

 

Ibby ignored her questions. “Let’s go.”

 

When they got to the end of the driveway, they could see Fannie sitting idly on the porch swing with her feet dangling and her head hung low, as if she were thinking about something that had happened a long time ago.

 

T-Bone was out in the yard, helping his father clean up after the tree men. He put down his rake and came over to speak to them.

 

“I got a gig over at the Union Hall on Tchoupitoulas tomorrow night. Why don’t you and Birdelia come catch me play?”

 

Ibby didn’t answer. She was looking past him, at Fannie.

 

Please don’t leave me, Fannie. You’re all the family I have, now that Mama’s gone.

 

“Miss Ibby, did you hear me?” T-Bone asked.

 

Birdelia poked Ibby. “Ain’t you gone answer T-Bone?”

 

Ibby drew her eyes away from her grandmother and looked at T-Bone. “I’m sorry. I’ve just got something on my mind. I’d love to hear you play tomorrow night.”

 

“Awright then.” T-Bone lifted his hand in a kind of backward wave and sauntered off.

 

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