A Doll's House

Withered, experienced hands cup the doll’s porcelain face gently as Robert paints her irises a deep cerulean. Before him sit three small tables lined up with one another. One table holds doll pieces, another holds various articles of small clothing, and the last holds various tiny wigs. The sound of laughter drifts in from the open window. Outside is a small grassy field where children are playing. There is a group of boys playing baseball and two girls running through the field picking dandelions and blowing the seeds, making wishes each time they scatter the seeds to the wind.

Robert focuses on one particular girl, around the age of eight, as she and her friend throw empty stems to the ground as they chase after a puppy that runs across the field. The little girl is wearing a pink sundress and has matching ribbons nestled around her golden pigtails. Robert glues a blonde wig, made of human hair, onto the doll and attaches pink ribbons to her pig tails to match the dress that she has on. He gives a small smile of satisfaction as he holds the doll up and inspects it. All that is left is to finish painting the face.

Robert, with steady hands, dips a thin paintbrush into golden paint. Before the brush touches the face of the doll, a thud just below the window breaks his concentration. He shakes his head and his sunken eyes focus again on the face of the doll. He paints one eyebrow and starts on the next one, when the sound of “Jingle Bells” echoes throughout the house. The ringing of the doorbell brings a pained smile to Robert’s face. “Jingle Bells” was his wife’s favorite Christmas carol. Christmas was her favorite holiday. “It will be like Christmas all year round” she said when she convinced him to have it installed. Now it is just one of the many painful reminders left in the house. He raises himself up slowly, joints cracking, as he supports his weight on his wooden cane’s silver handle. He slowly makes his way down the stairs, one stair at a time, leading with his cane.
On the wall hangs a single framed photograph, pristine against the aged and cracked wall. The photo is a picture of Robert when he was much younger, with his arms around a young woman. The woman has green eyes full of life and love. They are both standing behind a little girl of about six or seven. Most of her features come from the woman in the picture. From her bright smile to her mahogany curls. Her eyes are as blue as her father’s. They held a certain mischievousness and contentment that has long since vanished from Robert’s own eyes.

He finally makes it down the stairs and hobbles towards the front door. As he passes through the living room he sets the doll down on a small side table. The doorbell sounds again as he opens the door and looks out, and sees nobody.

“Did you know that your doorbell is” Jingle Bells”?” Robert looks down to see a small girl staring up at him, her bright blue eyes regarding him curiously as she plays with the fringe on her pink dress.

“Yeah.”

“Um… can I get my ball?”

Robert looks towards the field and watches as the boys stand there watching. They quickly turn around when they spot him looking in their direction. He hesitates for a moment, thinking about how inviting her in might look. He looks back down at the little girl, who is shuffling her feet nervously.

“Why don’t you come in while I get your ball? I might still have some milk and cookies you can have.”

“My mommy said that I’m not supposed to talk to strangers or go inside their houses.”

“I’m not a stranger. I’m your neighbor.”

She bites her lip in hesitation, deciding on whether or not to accept. Robert bends over and puts his hand out.

“My name is Robert. What is yours?”

“Emily.” She says as she reaches her hand towards his. His hand completely engulfs hers as they shake hands. She smiles up at him before skipping into the house. Robert slowly moves behind her, shutting the door.

Robert goes to the cabinet and grabs a pack of cookies. He takes a few out and puts them on a paper plate. He pours a glass of milk and sits it on the kitchen table.

“Have a seat and I’ll be back with your ball.”

“Ok,” says Emily as she hops onto the stool and immediately grabs a cookie and begins dunking it repeatedly into the glass of milk, spilling some with each dunk.

Robert slowly makes his way towards the back of the house. The glass on the backdoor is cracked and creaks as he opens it. He steps out onto the small concrete patio. The yard is very small and completely fenced in with a wooden fence. The once well-kept garden off to the side has withered and become overgrown with weeds. The grill in the center of the yard is rusted over and mold is beginning to slowly take over the furniture one section at a time. He steps into the overgrown grass. The grass tickles his calves as he walks towards the center of the small yard. Nestled in the grass lies the baseball; Robert uses his cane to roll the ball closer before squatting to pick it up. His knees crack as he bends over to grab it. He stands up, ball in hand and makes his way back inside.

He walks into the kitchen to find Emily gone. Her glass of milk is still half-full and there is a pile of cookies left uneaten on the plate. He walks into the living room looking for her. The living room was just as his wife had left it. Handmade coasters remained in the same place on the coffee table as well as an opened bottle of navy blue nail polish. Robert spots Emily standing on the arm of the love seat reaching for a doll on the bookshelf, tongue hanging out the side of her mouth in concentration as she sticks her arm out, just brushing the left foot of the doll.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, Emily jerks her hand back and loses her balance on the arm of the couch and falls backwards. She lands on the couch and quickly stands up, shuffling her feet in nervousness.

“I just wanted to look at your doll.”

“You can look at it without touching it. Here is your ball.” Robert hands Emily the ball. She looks down at the ball uninterested and back at the doll.

“Whose doll is that?”

“It was my daughter’s.” Robert gently guides her to the front door.

“Will she let me play with it?”

“No. Don’t you think you should return that ball to your friends?”

“Yeah,” she says, turning towards the door. She stops for a moment and stares, eyes wide with curiosity, at something behind Robert. She immediately rushes over towards the small side table.

“This doll has the same ribbons and dress I do!” she says excitedly.

“I think that it’s time that you…” Robert trails off as he is interrupted by a knock on the door. He opens the door and a woman is standing outside nervously wringing her hands together. She is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her short cropped hair is the same color as Emily’s.

“Mr. Mosley, is my daughter here? The boys said she came over to get a ball.”

“Mom, look! This doll looks just like me!” Emily runs over to her mother holding the doll up for her to see. Robert watches as she looks down at the doll and recognizes the similarities, from the pink dress and ribbons, to the hair and eye color.

“Emily, sweetie. Why don’t you go give the boys back their ball. You only have a few more minutes to play before dinner time.”

“Ok, mommy,” Says Emily as she runs out the front door, a wide smile brightening up her face.

The door closes behind Emily. Emily’s mother, Susan, grips the doll in her hands tighter as she tries to remain in control of her emotions. Robert and Susan stand in an uncomfortable silence, staring at one another.

“Tea?”

“What?”

“Would you like some tea?” Robert says as he makes his way towards the kitchen. Susan reluctantly follows after him. Robert fills an elephant-shaped tea kettle with water and puts it on the stove. He pulls out two mugs from the cabinet and rests a teabag in each. Susan takes a seat at the kitchen table, moving the pile of cookies and glass of milk aside.

The silence grows more uncomfortable. She must think that I’m some kind of pervert after her daughter, thought Robert. It’s just when she showed up at my door, she reminded me of her. How do I explain this without coming off as some pervert?

His thoughts are interrupted as the tea kettle soon whistles and Robert pours the steaming water into the mugs before setting the kettle back on the stove. He hands her a mug and she takes it, setting the doll on the table. Robert stirs in some sugar and sips his tea.

“They were for my daughter.”

“What?”

“The dolls. I made them for my daughter.”

“That doesn’t explain why this doll looks like my daughter! Have you been watching her?”

“Yes”

“What!” Susan slams her cup of tea on the table; some of it spills over the edge. “You are one sick son of a…”

“It’s not like that. Let me explain.” Robert calmly takes another sip of his tea before he gently rests the cup down. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a worn photograph. It is the same picture on the wall of his house. It has many creases from being repeatedly folded and unfolded. He slides the picture across the table and Susan picks it up and stares at it.

“Is this you?”

“Yes. We took that picture twenty years ago. It was about a week before the accident.”

“Accident?”

“We had been planning a trip. I got home from work later than usual. I told them to go ahead and catch our flight and that I’ll take the next one out and meet them there. They never made it there.”

“I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. You know your daughter reminds me a lot of mine.”

“She does?”

“Yeah. When she rang the doorbell I thought my little Abby had come back. When I see her it’s as if she never left. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I have no harmful intentions towards your daughter. Abby’s favorite toy was a doll I made for her. She was so excited that it looked like her. I thought that maybe Emily would like one too.”

“I understand. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions but in this day and age you can’t be too careful. I’m sure she’ll be very happy.” Susan rises from the table, bumping it slightly as she gets up. They both watch as the doll slowly falls onto the floor. They hear the shattering and they both look over at the doll. The doll is lying on its stomach, a chunk of porcelain, broken into a few pieces, lies next to the doll’s head.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Susan rushes over to the doll and bends down to pick it up. She turns the doll around facing her and there is a jagged hole on the left cheek of the doll, and part of the eye is missing. Robert gently takes the doll from Susan’s hands and inspects the damage. He lays the doll down on the table and stares at it a moment before coming to a decision. He walks into the living room and reverently lifts the doll off of the bookcase. He holds it gently in his hands and smoothes the mahogany curls.

He walks back into the kitchen and hands the doll to Susan.

“Here. Give this to her.”

Susan looks down at the doll in shock. “But this is…”

“Yeah. I think dolls were meant to be played with instead of just collecting dust. Besides, I think Abby would have wanted her doll to go to a good home.”

“Thank you. Emily will love it.”

Robert and Susan walk towards the front door. He opens the door for her and she steps out. “Tell her to take care of it and if she needs any repairs, my door is always open…and maybe she could come by every once and awhile?”

“I will and she’ll probably be over often to pick up baseballs.” Susan gives Robert a smile before turning and walking off the porch and down the driveway. Robert closes the door and walks back into the kitchen. He picks up the picture lying on the table and looks at it. His thumb traces over the smiling face of his wife and daughter. He turns the photo over. On the back written in his wife’s handwriting is Family Portrait September 4, 1991. He folds the photo and puts it back into his wallet, before sliding it in his back pocket. He picks up the broken doll and carries it upstairs.

He lies the doll down on the first table, filled with various body parts. He picks up a blank face and begins to paint the irises a deep cerulean. He pauses to look out the window, watching the kids play. The boys have continued their baseball game and the girls are still chasing after the puppy. Emily is running with a doll clutched tightly to her chest, smiling brightly.