Page 13 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“I’m not too sure what’s in here. Can you open it up and take a look?”
I’m not in the room when he asks, but I nod seconds later when I make it to the box.
“Thanks. I’ll be back in a sec.” He pats my head like I’m some sort of dog learning a new trick. “I’ll open this to let some fresh air in.”
The window creaks when he opens it, and he leaves with a sigh, heading off in a different direction from where we came.
With no one to help me, my short nails struggle to rip the tape sealing the box.
There’s no label or any content notes scribbled in a black marker pen. The box is large but light, just like the room, as the sun peeks in from beyond the drapes.
It’s a good thing the day is brighter, as this is the room with the faulty light.
Another reason it’s good that the weather is better today is that Dollie is still outside, staring into the distance at the neighbor’s yard, watching as they inflate the bouncy house.
Rain wouldn’t prevent this. She’d still be out there, even if it soaked her.
Her lips move like she’s talking to someone, but there’s no one out there. Mom and Dad are both in the kitchen, by the distant clanging sounds coming from that way.
I draw my eyes away from Dollie as my nails catch under the tape, and I’m finally able to pull it off the box.
I slump, still in my PJs, in front of a dusty fireplace to open it, finding Duggan on top of all Dollie’s dolls and stuffies.
She’s still outside, and I can hear her now that the kitchen is quieter.
“No, sillies. She’s a good Mommy.” It’s hard to see the sadness in her eyes, but I can hear it in her little voice. “Really. My daddy is nice, too. They love me. She was just stressed last night, and that’s why she was mad at me.”
There’s a pause.
“She only gets like that when I feel really ill.”
Another pause.
A shiver crawls down my spine as I stretch to see who she’s talking to.
No one.
Dollie stands alone on the bank outside our house, close to a drop almost as tall as our house.
“My new brother? He’s okay. I like him, but we don’t like the same stuff. He likes creepy movies, and I like Barbie ones. I’d try a creepy one if he’d play dolls with me.”
“Dollie!” I call pity laced in my voice. “I found Duggan La’Darragh!” I hold up her favorite possession for her to see. “Now, get in here and away from that ledge!”
Duggan adopted my and Dad’s last name last month when Dollie and Mom officially became part of our family.
A tiny squeal comes from outside before the patter of tiny bare feet rushes into the room. Stepping on the length of her pajamas and sliding on the wooden floor, she tumbles into me and knocks me over.
My leg bends uncomfortably, and I wince.
I’m about to push her off when her arms wrap around my neck, and she yells straight into my ear, “Thank you, Amrose! You’re the best brother ever!”
Her squeeze is tight.
“Hey! Look at you two getting along!” Dad appears in one of the open doorways. How about you both head upstairs and get dressed.”
“We don’t know where our clothes are yet.” I guide Dollie from my lap, and she doesn’t care, too engrossed with the fraying tie around Duggan’s neck. I’m not sure if it’s the yellow color or something about the feel of it that affects her senses, but it calms her, and the sadness in her eyes fades a little.
“Mom opened those boxes. She’s put them in each of your rooms.” Dad taps his watch screen. “Come on, it could rain again at any time, and I want to be back by midday to help Mom set up your beds, or you’ll be on the lilos again.”
