Page 16 of The Guests on South Battery
“That’s hideous and bordering on creepy,” I said, staring at the old china-faced doll in her hands, noticing that Jayne had stepped behind me as if for protection. The doll’s straggly brown hair made a cloud over its expressionless face, the two large dark eyes staring unblinkingly back at us. I suppressed a shudder.
“The vibration of our footsteps on the stairs must have shifted it in the chair to make that sound. If this is what I think it is, it could be worth a small fortune.” Sophie smiled widely as if unaware of the terrifying object she was holding.
“What is that?” I asked, staying where I was. Like with clowns and dollhouses, there was something inherently disturbing about antique dolls. Certainly the stuff that childhood nightmares were made of.
Sophie looked protectively at the doll. “I’m pretty sure this is a Thomas Edison doll—the first talking doll. There are only a handful left, and even fewer are intact, which makes them so valuable. Theyhave these little tin phonograph cylinders inside their torsos—all recorded more than one hundred years ago. They’re all nursery rhymes that are kind of hard to understand, and one in particular—‘Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep’—is a little scary because it sounds like a woman shouting under duress. For some reason they didn’t sell and they halted production after only a month.”
“For some reason?” I repeated. “I can’t imagine parents disliking their child enough to gift them with such a thing unless they were being punished for something serious like vandalism. Or murder.”
“Does this mean that it belongs to me now?” Jayne asked. She didn’t sound as excited as Sophie probably expected her to.
“Yes,” Sophie said brightly. “I’d have to take it to an antique doll expert who’s a friend of mine to verify, but I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.” She flipped it around to show an opening through a hole in the back of the doll’s white linen dress. “The cylinder is so delicate that if I tried to make the doll talk, it would break. There’s new technology that can digitally convert the sound from the cylinder so you can hear the original recording, which might be cool to hear.”
Both Jayne and I were shaking our heads. “That won’t be necessary,” Jayne said. “Let’s let your expert friend assign a value so that I can sell it as quickly as possible.”
“Let me talk with my friend first to see what our first course of action should be. We’ll leave it here for now, where it’s safe.” As Sophie was distracted replacing the doll in the rocking chair, I gave a thumbs-up at Jayne to let her know that at least on this subject, I was in full agreement.
“I think I’ve seen enough,” Jayne said, turning toward the door.
I followed closely behind her. “This is a huge decision, and something that involves a lot of thought. I want you to mull it over for a couple of days, and then we’ll talk.”
She stopped and faced me. “I don’t like old houses, and seeing this hasn’t really changed my mind. I’m ready to list it as is.”
I could feel Sophie’s gaze boring into the back of my head. “I know, and I understand your point of view. I really do. I just want you toconsider Button Pinckney. She entrusted this house to your care for whatever reason, but I’m sure she didn’t make her decision lightly. That’s something you need time to think about.”
Her narrow shoulders sagged. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I can tell you I won’t change my mind.”
We headed toward the stairway and once again I had the sensation of being pursued and another of being pulled back. I stared straight ahead, trying to see but still aware of the wall that was apparently interfering with—if not totally blocking—my sixth sense.
Halfway down the stairs, I heard the sound again, something tinny and metallic, but this time it sounded more like words. Neither Jayne nor Sophie appeared to have heard it, so I kept heading toward the door, almost as eager as Jayne to close the door behind us.
It wasn’t until I was relocking the key in the lockbox that I realized that the doll had spoken, but it wasn’t a nursery rhyme. It had been the unmistakable two words that I was unfortunately growing accustomed to.Go away.
CHAPTER 6
“Are you ready?” Jack asked as he opened the door to the nursery, where I’d been dressing the twins in preparation for our meeting with Jayne.
“Almost. If you can put on JJ’s shoes, that would be helpful. I’ve already put them on twice and he keeps taking them off.”
Jack approached us where we sat on the floor and leaned down to kiss me and squeeze Sarah’s cheek before hoisting his son in his arms. “Hello there, big man.” He frowned at the miniature loafers. “I don’t blame him for not wanting to wear those things. His feet are round blobs with toes. How about those awesome soft high-tops I bought him?”
“They don’t go with his outfit,” I protested, watching as Jack opened the closet door as if I hadn’t said anything.
“Do you remember where you put them?” he asked, his voice muffled.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell him that I didn’t know. But I was familiar with where every sock, hair bow, and diaper cover was kept—thanks to a spreadsheet I’d developed—and Jack would know I was lying. I sighed. “They’re still in the box, on the top left shelf underneath the mini Van Halen T-shirt and faded baby jeans.”
“Well, no wonder you forget to put these on him if they’re tucked way out of the way. I’ll put them in the front so you can’t miss them.”
I refocused my attention on placing two red bows in Sarah’s hair. It was unfair that she should have thicker and prettier hair at one year than I had ever had, but I knew it was from her father’s DNA. Even as he was approaching forty, Jack’s hair was as thick and abundant as it had been when he was a teenager. I’d probably go bald before he lost a single strand.
Sarah sat with a straight back and her small, plump hands resting in her lap as she stared up at me with her big blue eyes. Sarah was so much easier to dress than JJ, actually enjoying it when I brushed her hair or put on a new pair of shoes or a dress. JJ was lucky he wore more than just a diaper, as dressing him was like wrestling with an octopus. Being a perpetual charmer, he always made sure to give me a hug and a kiss when I’d reached my limit so that I quickly forgot how annoyed I was.
JJ gurgled happily as Jack fastened the Velcro of the high-tops on his small feet, kicking out his legs twice to show his pleasure. “See? He loves them,” Jack beamed as JJ began his litany ofdadadadadada. His other favorite word was “car,” which he helpfully pointed out whenever he saw one. He’d yet to say “mama,” but I still held out hope. Sarah, in the meantime, had mastered both parents, as well as the names of every family member and all three dogs. The only name she appeared to get stuck on was that of my cousin Rebecca, preferring to stare mutely or burp.
Jack frowned. “Matching outfits again?”
I finished with the little elastic band on the hair bow and stood, Sarah in my arms, admiring her smocked dress with the white Peter Pan collar that I knew would remain pristine until we removed the dress at bedtime. It matched the cute short suit her brother wore, right down to the collar that would be hopelessly stained if not completely torn off by the end of the day. “They were until you switched JJ’s shoes.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe I should put Sarah’s tennis outfit on her, since apparently we’re now going with a sports theme.”
