The Dolls House Emporium was on the other side of the Mississippi River in Keokuk, Iowa. They climbed out of the SUV, and Georgia waited until Vanna put Charlie in his stroller and made sure he was comfortable. A double glass door welcomed them with a cheerful painted sign saying, “Largest Miniature Collection in the Midwest.”
“How’d you know about this place?” Georgia asked.
JoBeth shrugged. “One year I went to a miniature convention down at McCormick Place. Well, a trade show.”
“A trade show just for dollhouse stuff?” Vanna said.
“They call them miniatures, and you’d be surprised how many people are interested in them. It’s a cottage industry. Even in Europe. Anyway, the people who run the Emporium were there, and they had the best selections and prices. Almost wholesale, compared to the circulars the other companies send you in the mail.”
Georgia pushed through one of the glass doors, and they went into what must have been at some point a large warehouse. Now, though, it was filled with large tables, racks, and shelves, all neatly arranged by their contents. Of course, there were dollhouses, but every kind you could imagine: colonial houses seemed to be the most numerous, but there were modern homes, cottages, castles, even an apartment building. Georgia spotted Vanna staring with wide eyes. She understood why.
Then came a dizzying array of tiny furniture arranged by rooms. There had to be thousands, if not more, items. Living room, dining room, kitchen, bedroom, outdoor playground, family room, all of them on separate tables with every kind of furniture and accessories one could imagine. Bunk beds, silk upholstered couches, polished walnut dining tables and breakfronts, packaged sets for the kitchen, plus every appliance known to humanity. And that didn’t include the food, which covered three different tables. Every conceivable item from eggs to bacon to racks of lamb, vegetables, even salads, lemonade, and tiny little wine bottles. Cutlery, tiny china plates and bowls, and pots and pans splayed across yet another table.
Georgia stopped at a shelf where a tiny Nikon camera sat next to a tennis racket and beach ball. “This is incredible!”
Vanna nodded. “Mom, how do they know how big—or small—something should be?”
“Everything is generally built on a twelve-inch scale,” JoBeth replied. “You know, one inch to one foot.”
A smiling plump woman with short gray hair approached them. “Hi, folks. Is there anything special you’re looking for today?”
“We’re just looking,” Georgia said.
“Mom, did you see this?” Vanna said breathlessly.
“What?” JoBeth said. She turned back to the woman. “I’m sorry. The dollhouses are where?”
“Right this way.” She led the way over.
“This is the first time my daughters have been here.” She lowered her voice. “I think they’re a little overwhelmed.”
The woman looked at Georgia, Vanna, then JoBeth. “You all look like a family. Very similar. And all beautiful.”
JoBeth glowed. She angled her chin toward Charlie. “And that’s the man of the family, the handsome Mr. Charlie.”
Charlie looked up and smiled when JoBeth called his name.
“Well, I’ve got some forts and train sets over yonder.” She pointed to a corner of the room, then turned toward Vanna. “Would you like to take a look?”
Vanna and JoBeth answered at the same time. “Sure.” “Of course.”
“But first the dollhouse,” JoBeth said.
“You have anything specific in mind?” The saleswoman asked.
“I’ll know when I see it.”
Georgia cut in. “You know, JoBeth, what Vanna said is right. Charlie’s a boy. Do you really want him playing with dolls?”
“Who says it’s for him?” JoBeth scowled. Georgia and Vanna exchanged a glance. Vanna rolled her eyes.
“Some people like to paint. Others sculpt. I decorate dollhouses.”
Vanna and Georgia headed over to the corner of the store devoted to trains, soldiers, and circuses, while JoBeth inspected the empty dollhouses.
“Look at this, Charlie,” Vanna said excitedly. “What is it?” She held up a Lionel locomotive. Charlie stared. “Is this a choo-choo train?”
Charlie started to bounce in his stroller.
“Look at that, Georgia!” Vanna said. “He knows it’s a train!”
Charlie stretched out his hands.
“Not quite yet, sweetie pie. We have to make sure there aren’t any sharp edges or things.”
“Yeah, he’d probably want to chew on it before letting it roll down the tracks,” Georgia said.
JoBeth came up behind them. “I bet he knows what it is from the Thomas The Train books we read.”
“Can we get it for him and set it up when he’s a little older?” Vanna said.
“I don’t know.” JoBeth looked as though she was pondering a decision.
“Please, Mom? We can hide it in the closet till he’s ready.”
Vanna’s pleading, impatient tone was just like a child’s. Georgia had to remind herself Vanna was still a teenager. “We can get a little track, the locomotive, and maybe one car. Get him a second and third when he’s older. He’s already two.” She looked around. “And we probably won’t ever be coming back here.”
JoBeth bit her tongue. “I suppose I could put the house on one side of the tracks.”
“That way, he’d have both. A house and the trains,” Vanna said triumphantly.
“In case he grows up nonbinary,” Georgia said.
“Nonbinary?” JoBeth frowned.
Georgia explained.
JoBeth shook her head. “What will they come up next?” Then, “Well…” she paused. “I guess I could make it a long-term project. We could build a fort next to the house. Or an Indian reservation.” She pointed to Vanna. “Actually, we could build a village beside the tracks. A church, firehouse, police station…” She was thinking out loud. “That way we’re covering all the bases.” She glanced at Georgia. “Binary or not.”
Vanna laughed. Even Georgia had to smile. The gray-haired woman looked confused at first, then, as if it was none of her business, shot them a cautious smile. She was about to make a huge sale. She needed to stay on their good side, Georgia thought.
“I’ll have to get a pool table,” JoBeth said. “But that’s fine. I don’t need much furniture.”
Georgia couldn’t stop the thought that flew into her mind. Maybe that was the way JoBeth wanted it. So she could split whenever things got too hot for her.