She went directly to her condo. Many of her things had been moved into Jonathan’s loft but there was enough left over to see her through the weeks ahead. For the moment, she knew that she could not face him, didn’t know when or if she would be able to again.
Ann went to work the following morning and tried to concentrate.
It was not easy. Jonathan called constantly, at her office and at home. This went on for days. She refused to speak with him, until he finally showed up at her condo. She no sooner stepped out of a cab when he confronted her. They faced each other in the foyer of her building, with her refusing to invite him upstairs.
In a muted voice, he expressed his disappointment that she could doubt him after all they’d been through, that she could harbor such resentment over something that had happened so many years ago.
“You lied to me,” she reminded him. But it sounded trivial.
“It was for your own good,” he insisted.
“Bull!”
“Ann—you’re proving my point. I knew you’d be consumed by guilt, yet it wasn’t your fault. You played far less a role in Matthew’s death than I did.”
“You lied …” Her anger got the better of her and her eyes began to tear.
He tried to reach for her hand; she pulled away.
“I … expected more from you, Jon—” She couldn’t finish. The tears were threatening to explode. Abruptly, she turned on her heels and rushed into the elevator.
“When can I see you again?” he called after her.
Mercifully, the door closed.
Seeing him in the flesh did something to her, filled her with regret and a deep-seated longing.
In some ways, she wished Felicia had never told her the truth. She wished she could have gone through the rest of her life blind and ignorant. There was some small consolation in finally understanding Jonathan’s behavior in those early years. Patrick despised her in large measure because he couldn’t take responsibility for his own role in Matt’s death. But Jonathan…
He had taken her trust and met it with a perpetual lie. Remorse and the terrible realization of what she had done brought a dark emptiness. It had been her fault all along. If only she could have made it plain from the beginning, told Matthew that marriage was out of the question.
Ann allowed work to monopolize her time. Her doll was all that mattered now. She analyzed sales from every angle, stayed up late second guessing her own analysis. Then, at the beginning of the third week of November, she received a phone call from the new buyer at Kmart—Bruce Fleisher. Effusive in his apology, he admitted his mistake in not committing and asked if she could please—please!—round up a hundred thousand pieces of Baby Talk N Glow and ship them out at once.
Ann promised him half that amount and disconnected. Leaning back in her chair, she started to wonder: Could this be it?
Before the week was out, Walmart’s Retail Link showed twelve thousand pieces had passed through their cash registers in the last three days. Sales at Toys ‘R’ Us reached five thousand, five hundred and thirteen pieces in the same time period.
The first story broke in USA Today. Mattel’s lead doll, as well as the one from Hasbro, had become non-issues. Baby Talk N Glow was all the rage. When Time ran an article on what was hot this Christmas featuring the doll, most newspapers across the country picked up the story and ran with it.
The phone lines at Hart Toy lit up. Ann hired temps to handle the overload. For the first time since becoming involved with Baby Talk N Glow, she started to believe they were blessed with a phenomenon that rarely touched more than a handful in the toy industry.
Still, Ann remained cautious. Too many disappointments in her past had hardened her to the harsh reality of her business. She insisted on going out to get a feel for what was happening at retail herself.
At one Toys ‘R’ Us location on Long Island, she found a sign that read: DUE TO THE UNPRECEDENTED DEMAND FOR BABY TALK N GLOW, OUR STOCK HAS BEEN DEPLETED.
At Walmart, a fifteen-minute ride away, she heard the announcement: “Attention, shoppers—we apologize for the inconvenience, but we are sold out of Baby Talk N Glow.”
Ann returned to her car, a white Audi A6, placed her crutches on the back seat, and slid behind the wheel. Without realizing what she was doing, she began to tap an imaginary tune on the dashboard.
Then she looked up at the sky, noticed the snow beginning to fall, and she finally smiled. It wasn’t snow but feathers from heaven, she decided. And she wanted to shout to the toy gods. It was all true. Despite one disaster after the other, despite the personal hell she had been through, Hart Toy had taken the chance and won.
She removed her cell phone from her briefcase and impatiently dialed the number. Cal answered and asked her to hold on the line while he went to see if Felicia could talk to her.
Ann waited, thrilled when she finally heard the voice of the one person she cared so much about. “We did it,” she told her. “Baby Talk N Glow is an unqualified—an unmitigated—success!”
Felicia’s voice was barely audible.
“I’m sorry,” Ann said. “I can’t hear you.”
Again the words came, only slightly more clear. “You did it, dear.”
Her heart seized. “It was your idea. You were the one to see Baby Talk N Glow’s potential. It was your vision, while everyone else was doubting you.”
Felicia coughed horribly. Ann could hear Cal in the background. She winced with guilt. “Are you okay?” she asked
“I’m so very proud of you,” Felicia said. And the line went dead.
Tears welled in Ann’s eyes and she couldn’t blink them away. “Damn it,” she swore aloud.