She was undergoing excruciating physical therapy. It was over a month ago—late May to be exact—that she was released from the hospital. With time, she was told, her bones would heal, and she had no choice but to trust this prognostication.
It was not until mid-June that she was able to make her first appearance at the office. Until then she had worked from home, driving everyone crazy with her phone calls and e-mails. Ann threw herself into the business at hand, with half-days at first but expanding her time as the weeks moved along.
A new Customs Broker was lined up and shipping schedules for Baby Talk N Glow were organized. Contact was made with each of the major buyers in the United States, then with Hart Toy’s distributors around the world, some once, others two or three times. Canada held a soft spot for her, being Felicia’s and Jonathan’s birthplace, so she was especially pleased to see that support in that country was solid, from Walmart, Target, and Toys ‘R’ Us, to Sears and Canadian Tire.
Meanwhile, Ann and Jonathan avoided discussing details of their terrible ordeal, each figuring it was best not to traumatize the other. Most conversations began with, “What happened when?” only to be left unanswered.
But Jonathan was haunted by those final few moments: Vincent pointing the gun at him, the split-second realization that his life was surely over. And Ann herself, not able to come to grips with a perpetual nightmare that wouldn’t die, the mental anguish she so desperately wanted to avoid hanging over her like a shroud.
Jonathan was able to walk with a cane; Ann still required the use of crutches. It drove her mad with frustration.
Meanwhile, she awoke each morning with the unspoken desire that Jonathan would rediscover his muse. She discussed his possible attendance at art exhibits that were frequently opening in the Manhattan area, dropped other hints that were aimed at stirring his creative juices. All to no avail.
It made her feel guilty, the fact that she could fully occupy her time with her doll project while Jonathan sat around the loft, moping. But her deadline was approaching and she knew she could ill afford to miss a beat.
The first shipment of Baby Talk N Glow to leave Hong Kong numbered almost two hundred thousand pieces. The dolls were packed in thirty-eight forty-foot containers on the S.S. Seahawk and arrived in the port of New York on a Friday evening in early July.
Alison Steinfeld of Toys ‘R’ Us approved an order of a double ship-pack for her five hundred and eighty-one stores, which was just over sixty-nine hundred pieces. WalMart’s thirty-four hundred stores received a total of twenty thousand, four hundred. Linda Figgures of Target was shipped ninety-six hundred and forty-two pieces, or a ship pack of six to each of their sixteen hundred and seven stores.
For a while, nothing significant happened—whatever sales were reported were marginal. Ann realized this was not out of the ordinary, but her nerves still felt jangled by the pressure. There was no denying the truth: if these first shipments of Baby Talk N Glow did not move, the balance of orders from the retailers would be canceled and Hart Toy would be left holding the inventory. Now she was at the mercy of the consumer. No matter how many focus groups had approved of Baby Talk N Glow, no matter how much money they spent to promote her, if kids were turned off, all would be lost.