“That is precisely why I put them there,” he says drily. The old softy…his eyes are gleaming too.
Winona sniffles slightly and takes out a tissue from her purse to dab at her nose.
Wait a minute. How did she get that doll?
An ugly flare of jealousy burns in my throat, tasting like bile. I take her by the arm and lead her aside. Tamara’s excitedly tearing open the packaging on one of the other boxes, with Alice and Steve kneeling next to her.
“How did you get the doll?” I demand in a voice I hardly recognize. It’s the voice of a caveman eager to club his rivals.
“Marshall gave it to me. He called me on Saturday. He said he did promise he’d give me a doll if I went on a date with him, even if it ended up being his worst date ever, so he had it delivered to my apartment.”
“Worst date ever?” I’m furious. “I’ll punch his lights out next time I see him. How dare he say that about you?” Although… “Of course, that means you’re not going out with him again.”
“I think we already established that, didn’t we?” She shakes her head reprovingly. “Anyway, he didn’t say it to be mean. It’s just his thing – he says exactly what he’s thinking. I mean, it’s not all bad. There’s no pretense with him. He just needs to find a nice girl. One who talks a lot.”
“Ariel?” I say sourly. Ariel never talks much when I’m around, but I do sort of spy on Winona, and when the two of them are together you can’t shut them up.
Winona’s eyes light up. “Hey! Look at you, Mr. Genius Problem-Solver. That is actually not a bad idea at all. And how did you get the doll?”
“Money,” I say. “When you promised her she’d have the doll, it was the same as me promising it. I had no choice but to get her one. For the right price, everything’s for sale.”
“How much did you…”
“You don’t want to know.”
She scrunches up her face with the kind of look you get when you’re watching a horror movie and waiting for the jump scare. “I kind of do, though.”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“For a doll?” she chokes.
I know. I’m disgusted with myself too, but a promise is a promise.
“Hey,” I mutter defensively. “It’s a doll with software that would put the CIA to shame. And she comes with five complete outfits.”
She shakes her head in amazement. “For that price, she should come with a staff of human servants.”
I grimace. She’s right, I did let myself get caught up in the fever, and I of all people should know not to obsess over the latest trend. Well, too late now.
We walk back over to Tamara. She’s sitting on the floor with a pile of wrapping paper. Alice is helping her braid the doll’s hair, and Steve sits cross-legged, reading the instructions.
“Me and Melody are going to have a karaoke-off. I’m going to kick hiney. I’m totally going to win,” Tamara chortles gleefully.
“I thought you were giving her the doll to make her feel better?” Alice protests.
“Of course I am. I mean, I’m nice, but I’m not a saint.”
Alice and Steve look at each other and mouth “Your daughter” at the exact same time. Tamara ignores them and hands the doll to her mother so she can tear into her other presents.
I got her a jewelry-making kit, a soap-making kit, a children’s reading and learning tablet, a new dress, and a purse that’s shaped like a kitten. Well, Ariel got her the gifts. I have no idea what little girls like.
“Sweet loot,” Steve says, nodding admiringly.
“Now it’s lunch time!” Tamara beams at Winona. “With Winona. That’s my birthday wish.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet!” Winona smiles at her. “But…I don’t want to impose on your family thing.”
“Please, impose,” I say fervently. Anything to get Winona to spend some time with me. I mean, Tamara. Of course. It’s Tamara’s day; it’s all about her.
“I want you to come! I want you and Uncle Blake to get married so he never goes out with Sloane again.”
Winona’s cheeks redden, and she hides a laugh behind her hand.
“I’m never going out with Sloane again anyway,” I assure Tamara. “What was it you didn’t like about her?”
“She’s two-faced. She’d smile at you but frown at me.”
“Whoa. That biiii– Uh…that big fat jerk!” Winona looks outraged.
“I know what you were really going to say,” Tamara says smugly. “Okay, ice cream time! Mom said you guys went to a place called I Scream where you can make your own sundae. I want my sundae first, then lunch. Okay, Mom? Because I was totally perfectly good today?”
“Debatable,” Alice says, but of course we pile into the limo to go to I Scream.
At the sundae shop, Tamara insists on building her sundae with Winona. Alice, Steve and I shovel frozen creamy deliciousness into our mouths and watch the two of them leaning in and laughing together, and a fierce longing squeezes my heart so hard I can hardly breathe. Winona will be the perfect mom, someday. She’ll bathe her children in the light of her smile, and they’ll know what true love feels like.
Alice is watching me with a wry half-smile.
“Shut up,” I murmur to her
“Okay.” She nods at me. “You’ll figure it out.” She glances at her husband. “Those two. Am I right?”
“He’d be a fool not to,” Steve agrees, nodding.
“Well, he’s already a fool, but hopefully he’ll be the fool that gets the girl.” Alice winks at me.
On the pretext of having Winona visit Xena, I convince her to come back to the house with us. Of course, Tamara commandeers her for the afternoon. The housekeeper brings Xena out from the carriage house, and they play with the dog in the yard, then they sit down and make jewelry together.
I only sulk a little, and I assure myself that it’s perfectly sane and normal to be jealous of my seven-year-old niece. After all, Winona’s bestowing the kind of smiles on her that would melt anyone into a puddle of goo, and I’m barely getting a glance. What am I, chopped liver?
A couple of hours later, my family hug me goodbye, and they hug Winona goodbye, and they pile into my limo to head back to the airport.
Winona stands next to me in the empty foyer as the limo pulls away.
“Feels so quiet without them here.” She slides her arm around my waist with a sigh. “It must be hard for you.”
Everybody else walks in here and sees this massive house crammed full of luxe furniture and turns green with envy, but Winona gets it. I live with echoes, and loneliness.
She gets me. The real me.
I grab her by the shoulders and spin her to face me. “Spend the day with me? I miss your crazy self. I shouldn’t have pulled a vanishing act. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t want to throw you off your schedule again, heaven forbid,” she says tartly.
“No, if you stay here, I’ll be exactly on schedule.” I pull out my planner, open it, and show it to her. For the last four hours of tonight, I’ve typed, “Stalk Winona Jeffers”.