Page 6

Mrs. Han was one of the few golden customers the hobby store had attracted over the years. Gwendolyn could remember her first interaction with Mrs. Han. She hadn’t complained about the store name, hadn’t inquired about whether she was going to church, and hadn’t asked her about potential boyfriends. All things Gwendolyn saw as good qualities in a stranger, but what had really won her over was Mrs. Han’s love of crochet. It was one of thefew side hobbies Gwendolyn enjoyed, if only for creating alternative outfits for her custom dolls.
“How are you?” Mrs. Han asked. “Are they treating you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Gwendolyn lied, not wanting to burden the older woman with her trivial problems. “How are you? Have you already browsed the yarn section?”
Mrs. Han shook her head. “No, but I do think I have something for you, Gwendolyn.”
The words were innocent, but Gwendolyn was still cautious. Mrs. Han knew how old she was, Gwendolyn may have lied about a few things, but never her age. Was this the start of an awkward conversation about how Mrs. Han’s nephew would be perfect for her? It wouldn’t be the first time someone would try to set her up on a date.
Oh, I’d hate to say no to her,Gwendolyn thought with genuine regret.
“Mrs. Han, I’m sorry, I’m not interested in—”
The elderly woman gently cuffed her shoulder, an impressive task, as Mrs. Han had to reach across the wide conveyor belt to do so.
“No, no boyfriend for you—” Mrs. Han shook her head, dismissing the misunderstanding. “No, I am here to tell you I’ve seen that doll you like so much.”
“A doll I like?” Gwendolyn frowned.
Unfortunately, she liked alotof dolls, not just theMiss Moxie Dolls. Gwendolyn liked rag dolls, she loved porcelain dolls—though she would never feel confident enough to work with them. They were too fragile for her hands, which would ache from long nights spent painting the delicate features on each doll.
“Yes, yes! The one that—oh, what was the name?” Mrs. Han frowned, a look of concentration crossing her gentle face. “It started with an M … Mary? No... Ma—”
“Maddie?!Maddie Moxie?!”
“Yes, that’s the one!” Mrs. Han exclaimed in recollection. “Pretty thing in pink in the window!”
Gwendolyn felt her heart quicken.Maddie Moxiewasn’t one of the originals from the 1960s, but one of the newer generations from 2010. She was part of a set of three, consisting ofMolly Moxie, Lolly Moxie,andMaddie Moxie. A collection of limited run dolls that looked near identical, save for their unique fashion and monochromatic color schemes. Molly was royal purple, Lolly, a canary yellow, but Maddie was a gorgeous shade of Y2K pink.
Naturally, Maddie had been a favorite, and nearly impossible to find. Surely, Mrs. Han must have been mistaken. Gwendolyn didn’t dare hope—
“Where?” Gwendolyn asked.
“Over on Rockerfeller Ave, just across the street from the old print company.” Mrs. Han explained. “It’s between a parking garage and that big empty corporate building!”
Gwendolyn vaguely knew where Mrs. Han was describing. There were two churches on either side of that street, and aYMCA. She had seen the tall corporate building on the corner along the way of one of her many bus routes. One of the few perks of being subjected to the bus line was how well Gwendolyn could navigate North Everett. An adjustment to her regular route was already forming in her head.
“I would have gone in to buy it for you, but they weren’t open yet,” Mrs. Han went on. “Strange, since it was the middle of the day. Maybe the owner was on lunch! But it’s very easy to notice on the street. It has a dark blue door, maybe green?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Han,” Gwendolyn said sincerely. “I’m going to head there straight after work.”
Mrs. Han’s face broke into a wide smile.
“Good!”
Gwendolyn still had to walk a bit to make it to Rockerfeller Ave.
The bus had dropped her off near theYMCA, along with a group of teenagers dressed in thin shirts and swim trunks. They were loud, but harmless compared to some strangers that paid Gwendolyn too much attention. There really wasn’t anything quite like being hit on while stuck on public transit when she was just trying to get to work.
Once her foot hit the old cement, Gwendolyn noted the church on the corner and took off. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, but her pace did double as she walked up the subtle incline toward her destination.
She clocked the old-fashioned printing company across the corner as she walked past the parking garage. Gwendolyn had no idea what they printed, though she supposed it didn’t matter as she spared it one last glance. A small bead of sweat grew beneath the camisole under her work uniform. She had ditched the cobbler apron only to save herself the embarrassment of having the company name plastered across her chest. While she found it amusing at work, outside of the arts and craft store, it was a little embarrassing.
A swell of anticipation grew in her belly with every step as she noted the building Mrs. Han mentioned. It was just as the woman had described it. A lonely, brick faced building overshadowed by the towering, empty corporate building on the left, and the parking garage on the right. Itappeared even more out of place, as there were no businesses attached to it. Just an alley on one side and a larger, open parking lot on the other. The origin of the building didn’t matter the moment Gwendolyn spotted the front door. It wasn’t blue or green like Mrs. Han had said. The door was teal. The kind that was more blue than green, but still teal according to the internet.
It had to be a coincidence. The front door of the building that held a doll Gwendolyn had been searching for just happened to be one of the colors she had been fixating on. A lot of businesses did odd things to garner attention. But something in Gwendolyn—that sounded oddly like her mother— told her there were no coincidences.
The shop had display windows on either side of the door. Windows that were filled with odds and ends, but not a single pink doll in sight. Gwendolyn tried not to lose hope as she did another pass with her eyes. There was a chance the doll was hiding in plain sight. Perhaps it was behind the tower of tea cups or the stack of luggage?