“
During a European trip,” he
blundered on, “Handler came across a German doll named Bild Lilli.
The chesty novelty item wasn’t exactly what Handler had in mind for
a new product, but she purchased three of them anyway.”
“
Bild Lilli?”
“
It was based on a popular
comic strip character. Lilli was a working girl who knew what she
wanted and wasn’t above using men to get it.” “Initially the
executives at Mattel where Handler worked didn’t like the idea so
she put up her own money to bring the doll to market.” Out in the
street a fire truck raced by, siren blaring. “The doll made its
debut at the American International Toy Fair in New York and sold
three hundred fifty thousand the first year.”
“
Not bad for a woman with a
checkered past.” Mitzi was prancing and yipping loudly. “It’s a
nice story but my dog needs her exercise.”
Because Adrian displayed negligible
interest in the blonde bombshell, whose full name was Barbara
Millicent Roberts, Jason left off belaboring her with historical
trivia. He didn’t mention that Barbie’s parents’ names were George
and Margaret from the make believe town of Willows, Wisconsin or
that she had an on-off romantic relationship with her
goody-two-shoes boyfriend, Ken Carson, who first appeared in 1961
or that a news release issued by Mattel forty years later revealed
that Barbie and Ken had decided to split up.
Had Adrian displayed even a tepid
interest in the doll’s fictional biography, she might have learned
that a menopausal Barbie had been ‘friendly’ – admittedly an
unsettling choice of words - with Blaine, an Australian surfer
during her troubles with Ken. On a merchandiser’s whim the woman
could reinvent herself and take on an endless variety of
extravagant personas from astronaut to medical doctor. She held a
pilot's license, and operated commercial airliners in addition to
serving as a flight attendant. In the late nineties, she even drove
formula one race cars on the Nascar circuit!
All of which proved what? That in the
never-never land of make believe a woman could edit the script of
her own destiny? Despite her endless permutations, Barbie was
essentially an airhead – a vapid, egomaniacal, anorexic, over-sexed
numbskull. But none of that mattered in the grand scheme of things,
because, if Barbara Millicent Roberts - AKA Barbie - Ken and even
Blaine, the Australian beach bum surfer dude presented themselves
at the Mangarelli Thanksgiving table, all would be welcomed. A
gracious, effusive host, Jason’s mother would have sat them down at
the red oak dining room table next to Jack Flanagan and the three
daughters by his second wife.
“
What are you doing over the
holidays?” Jason inquired.
“
Hadn’t thought that far
ahead,” Adrian replied obliquely. When Mitzi’s left, rear leg gave
out for the umpteenth time, the dusky woman scooped the crippled
pooch up in her arms and turned in the direction of home. “Why do
you ask?”
“
Let’s spend Thanksgiving
together.”
A bittersweet smile creased Adrian’s
lips. “Thanksgiving is traditionally a family holiday and your
parents might - ”
“
No, not that,” he
interjected in a papery thin monotone. “Just the two of us… a new
tradition.”