Dollbaby: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

under her nose. “I’m out of perfume. When did I run out?”
    Doll took the bottle from her and put it back down on the table. “You been out for a good number of years, Miss Fannie. Can’t remember the last time you had an occasion to wear none. Now back to Miss Vidrine. What makes you think she don’t want Ibby no more? Miss Vidrine just say she needed some time away. She didn’t say nothing about leaving Miss Ibby here for good.”
    Fannie waved her hand. “Anyway, I don’t think Vidrine has once stopped to consider what Ibby must be going through. The poor child witnessed her father’s death, and instead of taking Ibby with her, she leaves her here with strangers. She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but herself.”
    “You ain’t a stranger, you her kin.”
    Fannie sighed. “Lord knows what kind of nonsense her mother has filled her head with. You saw the way she looked at me just now.”
    “Everybody looks at you that way, Miss Fannie. You could scare the stripe off a skunk. Why, just last week you ran that Fuller Brush man out of here. Left his case full of brushes on the dining room floor. Never did come back for them.”
    Fannie went on. “Now Vidrine’s off on some mission to find herself. If that’s not selfish, I don’t know what is.”
    “You got a point, Miss Fannie, but what makes you think she’d give up her only daughter? That’s the one hold she has on you, now that Mr. Graham has passed.”
    Doll took in a deep breath. What Miss Fannie was saying got her to thinking. What if Miss Vidrine planned to move herself into this here house once Miss Fannie passed? Maybe she wouldn’t even wait that long. . . . Miss Vidrine knew Miss Fannie’d been to the nuthouse on occasion over the years. What if she tried to have Miss Fannie committed? What if she knew the truth about Miss Fannie? The thought of Miss Vidrine becoming mistress of the house made Doll sick to her stomach.
    “Miss Fannie, you just had a shock, and I can see a bump coming out on your head where you hit the table. You ain’t thinking too clearly right now. Why don’t you take a little rest?”
    “Yes, let me think on it some more.” Fannie closed her eyes. “Let me think on it.”
    Doll glanced down at Fannie. She had a Cheshire smile spread wide across her face, the kind Doll had seen many times before.
    Just pray it passes,
Doll thought as she shut the door.

Chapter Six

    T he cane-seat stool squeaked across the linoleum floor as Ibby pulled it toward the kitchen table. Queenie was up at the sink humming to herself, her sturdy legs, with the stockings rolled down to just below her fat knees, swaying beneath her gray uniform. From the back, her head looked like a bowling ball, save for the tiny bun the size of a quarter set squarely in the middle of it.
    The counter where Queenie was working was cluttered with tins of flour and sugar, a grease-filled coffee can, a ceramic container full of spoons and whisks, a cookie jar, a bread box, several wooden cutting boards stacked against each other, and a small transistor radio. She glided back and forth across the counter like a trolley on wheels—cutting, dicing, rinsing; pulling things from the shelves; stirring the big pot on the heavy relic of a stove; checking the oven and intermittently dabbing her forehead with a dish towel.
    “Queenie?” Ibby asked after a while.
    “Yes, baby?” Queenie answered without turning around.
    “My grandma—is she going to be all right?”
    Queenie tapped the spoon on the side of the pot, wiped her hands on her apron, then glanced over her shoulder and gave Ibby a motherly look. “Miss Fannie been mighty worked up ever since she got the news that Graham passed. And that urn you just set on the table in front ofher about did her in. Doll took her into the bedroom for a little rest. She’ll be just fine. Just give her some time.”
    Queenie must have noticed the sweat running down the side of Ibby’s face. She took a rag from