Midday on Friday, Miss Pine set four places at the tiny lace-covered table in the corner of Annaliese’s room. Throckmorton was pleased to see that she was using his favorite doll dishes, the ones with daffodils and aqua rabbits.
“I’ve invited their sock monkeys as well,” said Miss Pine with a wink in his direction.
Oh, what a happy day it was turning out to be!
Throckmorton had never met Nora’s, Nadine’s, and Nell Ann’s sock monkeys, but he was eager to do so.
Annaliese seemed genuinely excited to see her cousins as well. She slipped on a new freshly pressed party dress. She also reminded Throckmorton that in less than forty-eight hours she’d get to see Great-Grandmama Easterling again.
Bluish glimmers of hope flickered in Annaliese’s gray-green eyes. “Before the night is over,” she vowed, “I’ll get her to tell me the whole story.”
On a larger table, also set for four, a three-tier silver serving dish held dainty petit fours and finger sandwiches cut into hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades. Devonshire cream, lemon curd, and rosy-red jam accompanied a basket of freshly baked currant scones.
“Come along now, Throckmorton. It’s almost time for tea.” Miss Pine positioned her fingers under his arms and seated him at the tiny table. “Nora, Nadine, and Nell Ann will be here any minute.”
Giggling loudly, three brown-haired girls—triplets—entered the bedroom, empty-handed.
Oh crumbs!
He’d been stood up!
In not so many words, the sisters made it clear to Miss Pine that they were city girls who considered tea parties with stuffed toys a thing of the past.
Annaliese joined them at the big table. Her pink ruffled puffed-sleeve dress hung like a sack on her bony body.
The cousins, who wore knee socks, pleated skirts, and matching sweaters, rolled their eyes in well-practiced, perfect harmony.
Annaliese’s cousins jabbered about dreamy boys, spiffy clothes, and swanky homes. They ignored Throckmorton. Annaliese didn’t even pretend to fill his cup with pretend tea.
“Where are your sock monkeys?” Annaliese asked the girl with bobbed hair whose name was Nadine.
“I shouldn’t really be telling you this . . . ,” Nadine said. “You can keep a secret, can’t you?”
Oh no! Not another secret!
“Well, a couple of years ago,” Nadine explained, “the Ladies’ Missionary Society at our church sponsored a toy drive. Bless her heart; Mother gave our sock monkeys to poor starving children living in China.”
China? Throckmorton reminded himself to ask Captain Eugene where China was, and if they had any hopes of seeing those sock monkey cousins again.
“I mean, it wasn’t as if we played with them any longer,” said Nell Ann, flipping the rolled ends of her pageboy haircut.
Annaliese sent a sympathetic glance in Throckmorton’s direction. “Didn’t that make you sad?” she asked.
“Not really,” said Nadine. “Great-Grandmama’s sock monkeys were smelly.”
“Woolly and scratchy,” said Nora.
“And so-o-o old-fashioned,” said Nell Ann.
“Then who’s taking you to Great-Grandmama’s birthday party?” Annaliese asked. “Only the sock monkeys got invitations. . . . We’re going as their guests.”
After insisting that the information was top secret, Nell Ann described how after the invitation arrived, their mother, Annaliese’s Aunt Petra, had frantically traveled up and down the East Coast trying to locate suitable replacements in second-hand stores.
Annaliese, suddenly ravenous, devoured two scones, four little sandwiches, and three petit fours while she listened to Nell Ann’s story.
“And did she find replacements?” Annaliese asked.
The girls nodded.
“Are they wearing the outfits that Great-Grandmama made for the originals?”
“Not exactly,” said Nora. “Mother says that Great-Grandmama is half-blind; she’ll never notice the difference.”
They were wrong, dead wrong, Throckmorton protested.
Didn’t they know that their sock monkeys’ names were inscribed on the family tree that now hung above Great-Grandmama’s fireplace? And, that she’d recorded detailed descriptions of their one-of-a-kind outfits in her leather-bound ledger?
As soon as Great-Grandmama realizes that Aunt Petra’s daughters are frauds and their sock monkeys are fakes, she’ll cut them out of her will for sure.
And it would serve them right! Throckmorton thought spitefully.
“So, Annaliese,” said Nell Ann, switching the subject. “What are you going to be? We’re dying to see your costume.”
“Or,” Nadine tittered, “are you wearing what you have on?”
“I don’t have . . . uh, I mean . . . ,” Annaliese faltered. “I don’t want to show anyone just yet.”
“It’s a surprise,” she told them. “What about you?”
“We’re going as jungle cats, with matching cubs,” said Nora. “Mother made me a leopard costume.”
“Mother made me a tiger costume,” said Nell Ann.
“And I’m going as a lioness,” said Nadine, scratching the air with painted fingernails. “Me-oww.”
Looking mighty pleased with her catty self, Nadine set her napkin to the side of her dessert plate. “Excuse us, Annaliese, but we really must be going.”
As she passed, Nadine plucked Throckmorton out of his chair and pointed at his diaper pin.
Annaliese’s cousins didn’t need to say a word. Their cruel eyes told the whole story.
After they left, Annaliese bit her lips, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to escape.
What kind of costume would Olivia have made Annaliese, Throckmorton wondered, if she were still here?
Something beautiful, he imagined.
Something blue.