The Doll Garden

Eighteen

I slammed my little yellow notepad from my hoodie pocket onto the table and the black pen I had used to write all of my notes on it. All of them jumped in surprise. I hadn't meant to be so dramatic, but I couldn't push away the pride I felt in myself.

"Dolly lives in an old, run-down apartment in Boston, Massachusetts now," I announced.

Manuel gawked in amazement. "How the hell did you manage to track her down?"

I stuffed my hands back into the pocket of my pull-over hoodie, threading them together, a curt smile masking my lips. "I've got my ways," I sang, smugly. Anyone could hear the gloating in my tone from across Ella's diner.

Really, I had just Googled Dolly's name and ran a few Facebook searches. I used some of the background information my father had listed about Dolly in his records, after finding those records in his study in alphabetical order, and matched them to all of the Facebook profiles I could find. Eventually, I'd found a profile by the name of Dolly Mahi.

She was an older woman, South Asian, it seemed. Henry really helped narrow my search down when he mentioned Massachusetts too. I didn't know what to expect. But there were a few pictures up of her, her two kids (a boy and a girl), and her husband, along with her current address. The internet was both a beautiful and scary place.

"Awesome." Manuel leaned over the table to take a slurp from his chocolate milkshake. I let out a soft laugh. If I knew any better, I'd say he was thinking about coming to me in the future to do something like this again. Such a sly brat.

"Okay. What are we waiting for then? Let's hit the road," Mirabelle said.

"Hmm, Boston? That's about a two-hour ride from us with today's traffic," Isaiah said. "Are you guys sure about this? She doesn't even know you're coming. She might turn you away."

"It's a risk we'll just have to take then. Right?" Mirabelle eyed Manuel and me over her strawberry milkshake. Manuel was sitting next to her; meanwhile, I had been sitting across from them for the past twenty minutes.

"Right," Manuel and I said at once. I looked over at Isaiah, who was sitting beside me. He was propped back in the booth, his shoulders slouched against the back of the seat. I shouldn't have been worried. He told me he didn't mind making the drive, but my mind wouldn't take that for an answer.

My fingers fidgeted inside my pockets. "Hey, Isaiah, are you sure you don't mind driving us to Boston? We really don't want to trouble you. I can drive my own car."

He arched an eyebrow at me, a grin slowly creeping onto his face. "Jenny-bean. I volunteered to do this, didn't I? Stop worrying. I don't mind. I promise." I flinched back, then relaxed when he removed a curl from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.

"Okay," I muttered. Sometimes, this felt like a fever dream. All of the important people in my life were helping me figure this out. I'd made the right decision to fill them in immediately after Henry told me everything an hour ago.

"Let me know if you two are going to act like a love-sick couple now, so I can dip the hell out of here." Manuel fake gagged. I leaned over the table and punched his arm, causing him to whine dramatically.

Isaiah snorted. "You guys just wait out front for me. I parked over on the next block, so I'm going to walk over there and grab my car. I'll be a few minutes."

"Okay," responded all of us.

The air, warmer than it's ever been since I first stepped foot back onto Runswick soil, washed over me as soon as we exited the diner. Its bright sun overhead warmed my skin. I had arrived back home the second to last week of April; now May's midpoint was approaching.