One of Hadley’s Flaxy O’s went down the wrong way. She choked and sputtered. “She’s invited me for what?”
“I love crumble!” shouted Isaac. “What kind? Peach? Blueberry? Do you think she has any dairy-free whipped topping?”
Her mother’s smile quivered. “I’m sorry, Isaac. She’s only invited Hadley. It’s probably not wheat-free or nut-free anyway. It wouldn’t be safe for you.”
Isaac nodded sadly as the crumble rug was yanked out from under him. A twinge of guilt tugged at Hadley’s insides, but part of her was secretly delighted to be a she and not a we for a change. Plus, Hadley was excited to ask Ms. de Mone about the dollhouse.
“What time?” she asked.
“After lunch.” Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Be polite. And don’t overstay your welcome.”
The morning hours bled into one another like a wet watercolor. Before long it was lunchtime. Gabe was over again, asking if Hadley wanted to go into the woods with him—he was hunting for snakes. He seemed truly disappointed when she told him she had other plans.
At quarter past one, Hadley stepped out into the warm glow of the afternoon. Across the street, two neighbors stood in front of a flower bed. A little girl was trying to do a cartwheel on the lawn. They all stopped and waved in unison when they saw Hadley. She fanned her fingers halfheartedly. She’d gotten used to the tingly feeling in her hand, not to mention the overly friendly neighbors.
She’d made it halfway to the garage when the screen door of the apartment flew open and Althea de Mone appeared. In one hand, she held a casserole dish. The other hand waved eagerly. “Right on time!” she announced.
A soft breeze carried the tasty aroma of baked apples, cinnamon, and brown sugar straight to Hadley’s nose. Her legs moved independently of her brain, and before she knew it she’d climbed the cast-iron steps and was standing in the doorway. The delicious scent filled the apartment, drawing her inward.
“Come in, come in,” said Althea de Mone, smiling at Hadley over her shoulder as she led the way inside. “It isn’t often I have the pleasure of guests.”
Hadley’s eyes adjusted to the dim light. She gave the room a quick scan. There was a floral sofa on one side with a coffee table in front of it. A bed lay opposite the kitchenette. They were identical to the three pieces of furniture in the dollhouse.
To the left of the kitchenette sat an old wooden trunk—the kind you might find packed with blankets, extra sheets, or towels. Althea set the casserole on the low table in front of the sofa and directed Hadley toward it.
“Smells delicious,” she said, sinking into the squishy cushions.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the tea.”
On either side of the dish sat two powder-pink plates and two dainty silver forks. Althea de Mone retrieved two matching pink teacups and two saucers and placed them beside the plates. She returned to the kitchenette and then sailed back with a silver teapot and a bowl filled with a pale yellow sauce, half custard, half cream.
When all was set and ready, she placed a heaping spoonful of crumble on Hadley’s plate and a smaller portion on her own. To each she added a dollop of the thick, rich cream. Then she carefully poured the tea, and a musky aroma mingled with the apples and cinnamon.
“I hope you like it,” she said. “It’s an old recipe.”
Hadley lifted a forkful of crumble to her mouth. It was sweet and nutty and practically melted on her tongue. Maybe it was all the Flaxy O’s she’d been eating, but Hadley swore she’d never tasted anything quite so delicious. She quickly ate another forkful and another. Althea de Mone smiled enthusiastically. Hadley smiled back. She could see her own reflection in Althea de Mone’s glasses.
“Do you have to wear those all the time?” she asked.
“Too much light hurts my eyes. I can’t see at all if it’s too bright.”
“I’m sorry…,” said Hadley uncomfortably.
“Oh, don’t be sorry, dear. It’s my retinas—afraid my cones are defective. But my rods work quite well. They’re what allow you to see in the dark. That’s why I keep the apartment dim.”
Hadley didn’t know a thing about cones or rods, but she thought it must be horrible not to be able to see well. While she ate, she couldn’t help but examine the old woman further.
Her skin was like an apple left too long in the sun, but between the creases there was a smoothness that made Hadley think Althea de Mone must have been really beautiful when she was young. There was something cozy about her, too, like an old silk pillow.
Hadley had barely finished her last mouthful before Althea began spooning another portion onto her plate. “This is great,” she said between mouthfuls. “What’s in it?”
“The apples are the secret. They’re from the root cellar. The house keeps them fresh and crisp.”
Hadley’s mother had said something about there being a lot of food in the root cellar, but Hadley didn’t think it was still edible. It was kind of strange eating food someone else had left behind. She stared suspiciously at the crumble remaining on her plate.
“There, now,” Althea de Mone said. “Isn’t this pleasant?”
Hadley nodded.
“Try the tea.”
Hadley picked up the dainty cup and took a tiny sip. It tasted like cranberries. And nutmeg and cloves. “Tasty,” she said. “Reminds me of autumn.”
For a few minutes neither spoke. But it didn’t feel awkward—it felt like they’d known each other forever.
Hadley took a few more sips of tea. She set her cup down gently. “Ms. de Mone,” she began.
“Granny. Please.”
Hadley paused, worried the word wouldn’t come out right. But this time it slid easily off her tongue. “Granny … How long have you lived here?”
She rubbed her wrinkled hands, her expression thoughtful. “Quite a long time.”
It was exactly what Hadley wanted to hear. “You obviously knew the previous owners?”
Althea sat back and sighed. “The house has had many owners.” She picked up her teacup. “So many people have come and gone. I’m afraid I’m losing track.” She took a sip. “I guess I’m just lucky no one has evicted me yet.”
“Do you know there’s a dollhouse that looks exactly like our house?”
“You found it?” she said cheerfully.
Hadley nodded. “In the attic. Do you know anything about it? Who made it?”
“Well,” she began, “I’ve heard tell the original owner of this house moved here from Boston. He had the house built especially for his wife—he wanted her to be happy in her new home. The dollhouse was a gift to his daughter. His only child.”
Hadley’s mother had been right. The dollhouse was an antique. Possibly worth a lot of money.
“There’s a doll that looks like you,” Hadley said.
Althea chuckled. “That old thing?” She took Hadley’s empty dish and walked toward the kitchen. “I made it myself. Do you really think it looks like me?” She held up her chin, then turned her head to the right and the left, flashing Hadley her profile from various angles.
The mystery was solved. “Exactly like you. But wasn’t it hard to make, what with your eyesight and all?”
She patted Hadley’s head. “As I said, dear, my rods are fine. I see quite well if the light’s not too bright.”
They chatted for some time about all sorts of things—the town, the woods, the neighbors, and the weather. Hadley told Ms. de Mone all about her old apartment, about her worries on starting a new school, and about how much she missed Sydney.
Finally, Hadley stood and stretched. “I’d best get going.”
She stepped toward the drawn drapes. She wanted to know if she could see her bedroom from the window. She was about to open them when she remembered Althea de Mone’s light sensitivity.
“So soon?” said Ms. de Mone.
“I told Mom I wouldn’t overstay my welcome.”
“All right.” She chuckled. “But promise you’ll drop by again soon?”
“Sure,” said Hadley, secretly hoping it would be for more crumble. She picked up her teacup and saucer and set them in the kitchen sink.
“In fact,” continued Granny, “why don’t you drop by tomorrow? Late afternoon. They should be ready by then.”
Hadley stopped at the door. “They?”
“Run along, now,” said Althea de Mone, shooing her out the door. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Hadley’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. Having a grandmother was just as she’d imagined. A fuzzy feeling filled her insides as she descended the steps. She hurried down the driveway and into the side door.
Perhaps it was the crumble, but that night Hadley went to her room with the warm feeling still lingering in her stomach. She had a grandmother—at least a substitute—and it felt good. It even made her feel better about sharing her mother with Ed and Isaac.
She was about to turn out her light and settle into bed when she glanced at the dollhouse. Althea de Mone’s doll lay in the room above the garage. The other three dolls were missing.