Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter
“I hope you’re not planning to take the Bye-Lo away, because I collect dolls, and she’s special to me.”
“I—I just want to see her. I need to know if she’s the same doll my grandma used to have in her attic.” Sheila didn’t have the heart to tell Amy that if it was Grandma’s doll, she planned to offer payment to get it back.
“Hang on a minute.” Amy whirled around and hurried out of the room. A short time later she was back, holding a small cardboard box in her hands. She set it on the coffee table in front of the couch and opened the lid. Carefully, almost reverently, she lifted the doll and cradled it in her arms as though it were a real baby.
Sheila’s heart hammered. It sure looked like Grandma’s doll. It was the same size and had the exact shade of brown painted on its pink porcelain head, and the doll’s hands were made of celluloid. “May I have a closer look?”
With a reluctant expression, Amy handed Sheila the doll. “Be careful with her. She’s breakable.”
“Yes, I know.” Sheila placed the Bye-Lo baby in her lap and lifted her white nightgown.
“What are you doing?” Amy’s eyes were huge, and she looked horror-struck.
“I want to see if there’s any writing on her tummy.”
Amy dropped to the couch beside Sheila. “Why would there be writing? I never wrote anything on the doll.”
“If this is my grandmother’s, then my name should be on the stomach. I wrote it there when I was a little girl, hoping someday the doll would be mine.” Sheila pulled the small flannel diaper aside, but there was no writing. Part of her felt a sense of relief. At least she wouldn’t be faced with having to ask Amy to give up a doll she obviously cared about. Another part of her was sad. Since this wasn’t Grandma’s doll, then where was she?
Sheila smoothed the clothes back into place and handed the Bye-Lo to Amy. “It’s not my grandmother’s doll, and I apologize for having troubled you.”
Amy’s mother stepped into the room just then. “It was no bother.” She walked Sheila to the door. “I hope you find your grandmother’s doll. I suspect it meant a lot to you.”
Sheila could only nod in reply, for she was afraid if she spoke she might break down in tears. It was clear she wasn’t going to locate the missing doll, and now she had to take Dwaine to the hospital to have his ankle checked out. All she’d accomplished today was getting Dwaine hurt and making herself feel more depressed.
Maybe I never should have come back to Casper. Maybe I’m not supposed to have that doll
.
F
or the next week, Sheila divided her time between Mountain Springs Retirement Center, to see Grandma, and The Older the Better Antique Shop, to help Dwaine. After his ankle had been x-rayed, the doctor determined that it wasn’t broken but he’d sprained it badly. Dwaine would be hobbling around on crutches for a couple of weeks, which would make it difficult to wait on customers, much less stock shelves, clean, or organize things in his shop. Since Sheila felt responsible for the accident, she’d called her boss and asked if she could take her last two weeks of vacation now. Dr. Taylor agreed, saying the woman he’d hired in Sheila’s absence was available to help awhile longer and telling Sheila to enjoy the rest of her time off. Since Sheila couldn’t afford another week or two at a hotel, after speaking with Grandma, she decided to stay in her grandmother’s old house until she felt ready to leave Casper. There was still enough furniture for her to get by, and since the power was on, she figured she could manage okay.
“This is so much fun,” she muttered under her breath as she dumped another load of trash into the wastebasket near Dwaine’s desk. Every day this week when she’d been helping Dwaine, Sheila had continued to search for Grandma’s doll or a receipt. No amount of cleaning or organizing revealed any evidence that the doll had ever been in Dwaine’s store. Dwaine had phoned all the other antique shops in town, but no one had any record of her grandmother’s doll. Sheila felt sure it was hopeless.
“I’d like to meet your grandmother in person and ask a few more questions about the doll,” Dwaine said as he hobbled up to Sheila on his crutches.
“That’s a great idea. Grandma’s been wanting to meet you, and I happen to know she baked a batch of peanut butter cookies yesterday afternoon.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “One of my all-time favorites.”
Sheila smiled at Dwaine’s enthusiasm. He reminded her of a little boy. During the past week, she’d gotten to know him better. His lackadaisical attitude and disorganization bothered her some, but he had a certain charm that captivated her. Not only was Dwaine good looking, but he seemed so kind and compassionate. Several times she’d seen him deal with customers, and always he’d been polite and fair in his business dealings. Even though Sheila knew little about antiques, she could tell by the customers’ reactions how pleased they were with the prices he quoted. “So when do we leave?”
Dwaine’s question halted Sheila’s musings, and she gazed up at him. “Oh, you mean go to Grandma’s place?”
He nodded and grinned at her. “That’s where the peanut butter cookies are, right?”
“Yes. I just didn’t realize you wanted to go there this minute.”
“Business has been slow this morning, so there’s no time like the present.”
Sheila was tempted to say something about Dwaine’s overly casual manner, but she decided it was none of her business how he handled things at his shop.
He made his way across the room and reached for his jacket. In the process, the coat tree nearly fell over, and Sheila was afraid Dwaine might lose his balance, too. With one hand she grabbed the wobbly object; with the other she took hold of Dwaine’s arm. “Better let me help you with your jacket.”
As soon as they had their coats on, she opened the front door, stepped outside, and headed for her rental.
“I’ve always wondered how it would feel to have a chauffeur,” Dwaine said in a teasing voice. “Since I sprained my ankle, it’s been kind of nice having you drive me around.”
Dwaine had never been to Mountain Springs Retirement Center, but when they pulled into the parking lot, he was impressed with the facilities. The grounds were well cared for and included numerous picnic tables, wooden benches, bird feeders, and a couple of birdbaths.
When they entered the building, he noticed the foyer was decorated with several green plants, and a huge fish tank was built into one wall.
Sheila led the way, walking slowly down a long corridor and up the elevator to the third floor. Soon they were standing in front of a door with Lydia Dunmore’s name engraved on a plaque.
A few minutes after Sheila knocked, the door opened. A slightly plump elderly woman with her hair styled in a short bob greeted them with a smile. Her blue eyes sparkled, the same way Sheila’s did, and she held out her arms. “Sheila, what a nice surprise!”
Sheila giggled and embraced the woman. “Grandma, you know I’ve dropped by here nearly every day since I came back to Casper. I don’t see how my being here now can be such a surprise.”
“Of course not, dear, but this is the first time you’ve shown up with a man at your side.” She glanced over at Dwaine and smiled. “And such a nice-looking one, too.”
Dwaine’s ears burned from her scrutiny, and he noticed Sheila’s face had turned crimson as well.
“Grandma, this is Dwaine Woods, the new owner of The Older the Better Antique Shop.”
“It’s nice to meet you in person. I’m Lydia Dunmore.” She held out her hand.
Dwaine was surprised at the strength of Lydia’s handshake.
“It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Dunmore.” “Lydia. Please call me Lydia.” He nodded in reply.
“Sheila told me about your ankle. How are you doing?”
“Getting along quite well, thanks to your granddaughter helping out at my shop.”
“Glad to hear that. So now, to what do I owe the privilege of this visit?” she asked, motioning them inside her apartment.
“I heard you made some cookies,” Dwaine blurted.
Sheila nudged him gently in the ribs. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Me neither.” Dwaine shook his head. “The words slipped out before I had time to think. Sorry about that, Mrs.—I mean, Lydia.”
She chuckled and headed for the small kitchen area. “You remind me of my late husband. He always said exactly what was on his mind.”
Sheila pulled out a wooden stool at the snack bar for Dwaine and took his crutches, placing them nearby. “Have a seat. Grandma loves to entertain, so I’m sure she can’t wait to serve us.”
Sheila studied Dwaine’s profile as he leaned his elbows on the counter and made easy conversation with Grandma.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said in answer to Grandma’s most recent question. “I’ve gone to church ever since I was a boy. Accepted the Lord as my Savior when I was a teenager, and now I teach a teen Sunday school class.”
Grandma piled a plate high with peanut butter cookies and placed it in front of Dwaine. Then she poured a tall glass of milk and handed it to him.
“Hey, don’t I get any?” Sheila stuck out her lower lip in an exasperated pout.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head.” Grandma put half as many cookies on another plate, poured a second glass of milk, and handed them to Sheila.
Before Sheila could voice the question, Grandma said, “What can I say? He’s a growing boy with a sprained ankle and needs more cookies than you do.”
Dwaine patted his stomach. “If I’m not careful, I’ll be growing fat.”
“You could use a little more meat on your bones.” Grandma glanced at Sheila. “Don’t you think so, dear?”
Sheila’s face flamed. She thought Dwaine looked fine the way he was. A bit too fine, maybe. She sure wasn’t going to admit that to her grandmother though.
Searching for a change of subject, Sheila said, “Dwaine and I have looked high and low for anything that would show you took the Bye-Lo doll to his shop, but we haven’t found a thing.”
Grandma tipped her head to one side. “Guess you’d better make another trip to my attic.”
“I appreciate the offer, but as I told you before, there’s nothing else I want.” Sheila took a bite of her cookie. “Mmm … this is good.”
“Thanks.” Grandma grinned and snatched a cookie from Sheila’s plate. “I’m glad you two stopped by so I didn’t have to eat them all myself.”
“I was wondering if you’ve had the chance to look at my appraisal of your piano,” Dwaine said.
Grandma’s forehead wrinkled. “Your offer sounds fair, Dwaine, but to tell you the truth, I’m having a hard time parting with that old relic. I’ve had it since I was a girl.”
Dwaine swallowed the last of his milk. “Too bad there isn’t room for it here.”
Tears welled up in Grandma’s eyes. “Even if I could have had it moved to this apartment, I don’t think the others who live here would appreciate my playing it. These walls aren’t soundproof, you know.”
“There’s a piano downstairs in the game room,” Sheila said. “Grandma can play that whenever she wants.”
“Maybe someone in your family would like to buy the piano,” Dwaine said.
Grandma smiled. “I’ll have to ask around.”
Dwaine looked at Sheila. “One good thing has come from hunting for the missing doll.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“I’ve gotten to know you.”
“The man has a point,” Grandma put in. “I can tell by the way you two look at each other that you’re a match made in heaven.”
“Grandma, please!” Sheila knew her face must be bright red, because she felt heat travel up the back of her neck and cascade onto her cheeks.
“You look a little flushed, dear. I hope you’re not coming down with something.”
“I think Sheila’s embarrassed by your last statement,” Dwaine said, coming to Sheila’s rescue.
Grandma looked sheepish. “Sorry about that.”
“Dwaine and I barely know each other,” Sheila said. “I think you’re a romantic at heart, Grandma.”
Grandma grinned. “Your grandpa and I got married after knowing each other only one month, and we had a wonderful marriage. It’s always been my desire that each of my children and grandchildren find a suitable mate and know the kind of happiness Grandpa and I had.” She winked at Dwaine. “Sheila’s more priceless than any of my attic treasures, so don’t let her get away.”