Chapter 6

“I can not believe how she has taken to that doll,” Irene said to Edward.
“She was never one for dolls when she was younger. I just hoped she might like something to display in her room. I not sure I can figure it all out.  She’s just crazy about that doll.”

Edward smiled. “I’m just happy that you and Sarah are happy. That’s all that matters to me. The doll is beautiful and Sarah loves it. So perhaps there is nothing to figure out. It was a good choice. So let’s talk about this gathering for Sarah’s birthday, now that we don’t have to worry about finding her birthday gift.” Edward chuckled. “It’ll be good to see everyone. I’ve been so busy of late that I wouldn’t even see my brother if I didn’t work with him.” Edward’s office was nearby,  He and his brother William owned real estate and managing the properties was a full time endeavor.

“Do you think your brother will come? It would be nice if he would bring the family over.”

“I’m sure he will. Did you decide on Saturday or Sunday?”

“I think Saturday will be the better day, since it seems everyone wants a day to themselves before they do back to work.”

“True. I know I do. I love to have a little extra time with my family.” Edward playfully pulled Irene to him, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her softly on her mouth. Her lips softened and parted, teasing him and allowing him to explore. “Some things I never can get enough,” he said as he kissed her again more firmly this time as he slid his hands down the curve of her back and along her hips. She leaned into him, giving him a promise for more to come later. He responded.

Irene laughed softly and whispered, “Me, too.” Her breathe was shallow and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. After all these years, he still could make her want him.  Edward ran his fingers over the bodice of her dress feeling the outline of her breast. Irene held him tighter and pushed her hips against him feeling his desire getting stronger.

“I think we should wait a bit until Sarah is in bed.”

“Then let’s tuck her in,” Edward encouraged and guided Irene to the bedroom door and out into the hall.

Outside their door, they could hear Sarah talking away. The conversation was quite lively and the words were indiscernible. Laughter followed with more conversation. “My goodness! You would think the was really talking to someone in there,” chuckled Irene.

At that moment a second voice, mirroring that of their daughter, spoke and laughed. Irene opened the bedroom door to see Sarah sitting on the floor with Miss Ginger. “Who are you talking to Sara?” Irene asked.

“Why Miss Ginger. Who else?”

“And what did Miss Ginger have to say?”

“Not much. We were just talking. She likes it here.”

“That’s nice, honey. It’s getting late, and it’s time for bed.”

“Already?” She looked up appealingly at her father. “It’s still early, Daddy?” Sarah whined.

“Not really. By the time you change and brush your teeth, it will be late enough,” her father responded.

“Okay,” Sarah bemoaned. She rose and scooped up the doll and hurried off to the bathroom to attend to her needs. Irene looked at Edward.


“Did you hear someone else with Sarah, or am I losing my mind?” Irene asked her husband.

“No, I heard Sarah talking. That’s all.”

“I could have sworn that I heard another voice.”

“Irene, there is no one else here but Sarah.  You saw that for yourself. Now come on I’ll tuck her in, and you can get ready for bed.” He slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her gently, his tongue touching her lips and her mouth.  He was ready to collect on that promise.

Sarah walked into her bedroom ready for bed with Miss Ginger in tow.  “Goodnight, Darling,” Irene cooed to her daughter and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“Say ‘Good night’ to Miss Ginger, Mommy,” said Sarah.

“Good night, Miss Ginger,” Irene replied.

“And kiss her good night, too.” Sarah held the doll out for her mother to kiss.

Irene leaned forward and kissed the doll’s forehead. It felt warm. Irene looked at the doll and then at Sarah. Sarah returned the doll to the crook of her arm and started for the bed.  Edward scooped her up before she had taken several steps and spun her around. “Now is my big girl ready for bed?” Edward asked. Sarah nodded and laughed with her doll held tightly and spinning along with Sarah. Her hair flared as she threw her had back and laughed even harder. Irene watched the doll.

“Edward, you are going to get Sarah all riled up, and she will never get to sleep,” Irene cautioned. Edward understood what Irene’s comments meant. If Sarah did not fall asleep soon, their time together would be postponed to another time at best.

“Okay, your mother is right. You have had a busy day and need your sleep.”

“So does Miss Ginger,” Sarah added.

“So does Miss Ginger,” her father agreed.

As he tucked the blankets around her and the doll, Irene stood in the doorway watching her daughter and husband. Edward idolized Sarah. She was definitely “daddy’s girl.”

“…and tomorrow, you and mommy, and I will plan your very special day.”

“Okay, daddy, I can’t wait!”

“But now it’s time for bed.”

Surrounded by feather pillows, Sarah snuggled into her comforter, keeping Miss Ginger nearby. Miss Ginger sat on the mattress, leaning up again the feather pillow, arms at her sides, legs out straight, with her eyes wide-open…watching

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Daddy.”

Edward leaned over the kissed Sarah on her forehead. Then he left the room with Irene and closed the door gently behind himOnce in the hallway, Edward turned to his wife and kissed her. “Time for bed,” he whispered. Holding his hand, Irene followed him into their bedroom. Edward closed the bedroom door.

Chapter 5

Taking the newspaper off the table in the foyer, Edward walked into the study and sat down heavily into his chair. Crossing his legs, he scanned the front page and then leaned back into his chair, and opened the paper to page 2. “New York Governor Theodore Roosevelt says, “Speak softly and carry a big stick, you will go far,” Edward read. Smiling, he said aloud, “Bully!” and laughed.

Irene watched her husband from the foyer. Enjoying his laughter, she thought this would be a good time to tell him about the porcelain doll and Sarah’s birthday.

“Edward?” she said.
“Hummph…” he muttered under his breathe as he continued to read the paper. “Edward, I need to talk to you about Sarah’s birthday next week.”
“Sarah’s birthday? Oh, yes, what about it?”
“Well, I was thinking she is going to be 9. I was hoping to do something special for her. Edward dropped the paper to his lap and looked intently at his wife. “What are you

thinking?”
“oh, I don’t know. Perhaps a family party or would you like to take her somewhere

special? What do you think? This is really an important time for Sarah. She will only be 9 once and …”

“Irene, I know you better than that. What do you have in mind?”

Irene smiled as though she was caught, “Well,” she began. “how about on Saturday, we start the dat with an excursion to one of her favorite places, like the Buffalo Zoo. You know how she loves animals. Then in the afternoon, we can have the family over for dinner and cake.”

Note: Originally conceived as a deer park in the northeast corner of Frederick Law Olmstead’s Delaware Park. The Buffalo Zoo was established in 1875, spurred on by local donation of animals. The Zoo grew and rapidly developed between 1875-1930 and attracted great community interest and involvement. This growth led to the Zoological Society of Buffalo being founded in 1931. The Society worked with the City of Buffalo to effect many improvements to the Zoo over the next four decades. Included in this period was a major renovation (1938-1942) by the Works Progress Administration (WPA) which featured buildings using classic, period architecture. (https://tclf.org/buffalo-zoo-entrance-court)

“Sounds like a wonderful idea! I suppose you already called your family.” “Only Florence and she said she’d come.”
“And Anna?”
“Anna said she’d bake.”

“And your brothers.”
Irene laughed. “I didn’t get that far yet.”
Edward smiled. Oh, how he loved her! “I suppose you already chose the gift – the perfect

gift.”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she said proudly. “Do you want to see it?” she whispered. “Yes,” he whispered back with a grin.

She giggled like a schoolgirl as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his chair and towards the door. “Come on. Before Sarah hears us!”

Edward was always up for a good surprise and quickly followed her up the stairs to their bedrooms.

Irene stood at the door with her slim fingers wrapped around the glass door knob. Looking over her shoulder, she whispered, “Come on!”

A small smile crept across the lips. “What do you have hidden in there, Irene?” Edward leaned over Irene’s slight shoulder to watch her delicate fingers turn the knob. As the latch released, Irene pushed the door open. She slipped in and turned to face her husband.

“Cross the door. I don’t want Sarah to hear us.” Irene moved quickly to the closet door and reached for the knob as Edward closed the bedroom door. As Edward turned around, Irene’s head was already in the closet and she was rummaging around. Boxes moved, paper crinkled, clothes rustled. Edward watched Irene. Her excitement was infectious. He stooped down next to her, feeling the giddiness in the pit of his stomach.

“Edward, are you ready?” Irene spun around on her heels holding the bag close to her chest. Her smile was deep as excitement lit up her rich brown eyes. “I could not believe I found this I was walking home when I looked into Miss Jamison’s shop window and I thought I would stop. Way in the back on a shelf sat the perfect gift for Sarah.”

She held the bag out to Edward. He reached for it and took it from her. He could feel the weight. He continued to look at her face as he separated the handles and opened the bag. The tissue paper was crushed on top hiding the contents. Irene peeked in as Edward removed the first of the tissue paper. The crushed tissue paper rested in a crumpled heap on the bedspread as he placed the bag on the bed. The bag leaned to one side. Irene reached for it, afraid it would tip over, but it suddenly righted itself. She quickly jerked her hand away. Edward looked up startled by her sudden movement. “Is it okay if I take it out?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Of course, silly.” A nervous giggle escaped from her lips.

Edward reached inside the bag and carefully lifted the doll. Her dress appeared to unfold and blossom into billows of ribbon and lace. Edward looked at the doll amazed at its find workmanship. “Irene, she’s beautiful!”

“I think so, too.”
“I’m sure Sarah will love this.”
“Look at her fingertips and her toes. Even her fingernails are polished. And her eyelashes.

Look. Each lash is separate.”
“Exquisite,” he remarked under her breathe.
“I hope you don’t mind. It was a little more than I intended to spend.”
“Irene, do you know how old this doll is ?”
“I’m not sure. Miss Jamsion didn’t know. She had just gotten her in the shop.”
“I bet there is some history attached to his doll. Next time you see Miss Jamison, ask her

if she could tell you where she acquired it. I would be interested in knowing where she was made. The workmanship is superb.”

“Not only the doll, look at the dress. Isn’t that Chantilly Lace? The detail is unbelievable! It looks like my mother’s lace shawl, doesn’t it? Wait! I think I have it in the bureau.

Irene quickly moved toward the bureau and pulled open the bottom drawer. There,

carefully wrapped in paper, was her mother’s Chantilly lace shawl. She removed it from the drawer and laid it gently on the bed. As she unwrapped the shawl. Irene smoothed the paper preparing it for the rewrapping after she was to show Edward that she was right.

Note: Chantilly Lace is the best known of the black laces. It takes its name from the French town of Chantilly, where silk lace had been made-primarily for the Spanish market-from early in the 17th century. This early Chantilly lace was not black. It was makes in strips of a cream-colored silk with motifs enclosed by a heavier floss silk, and because of its color, was called Blonde. When black thread was used, it was called Black Blonde. The motifs were made in cloth stitch with a gimp, either a thicker thread or several strands of the regular thread plied together as a strand and used as the worker. Blonde is a fragile lace, since the thin passive threads must support the heavier worker thread. A certain amount of black lace was also made in Ipswich, Massachusetts, presumably about 1767. There was also a thriving industry throughout the area. Much of the lace was sold or traded directly by the maker for goods. (https:// www.thelacemuseum.org/lace-info.html)

Edward was critically examining the doll’s dress. The lace was a creamy color with fine stitches woven to hold the heavier stands of thread. The delicate pattern graced the edges of the dress, the sleeves, and the collar making the dress look almost dream-like. It was obvious to Edward that this doll was expensive to say the least, but elegant.

Irene spread the lace shawl across the bed. “This shawl was passed down to my mother from her mother. It’s got to be all of 100 years or better. My grandmother got this as a gift on her wedding from my grandfather.”

Edward looked up and placed the doll on the bed next to the shawl edging. “My goodness, Irene, the lace is identical!”

“Are you sure?” Irene looked more closely at the pattern. “You don’t think there is any connection, do you?”

“I’m not sure. I think it depends on when and where this lace was bought. Irene, you said you got this at Miss Jamison’s. Maybe you can find out about this lace. It’s amazing that it matches your mother’s shawl.”

Irene was surprised at the match. She wondered if that was why she was so drawn to the doll – the familiarity of the lace. But she didn’t think so.

Picking up the doll, Irene turned her over to see the back of the dress. The hand drawn stitches were tiny and perfect as the cream-colored thread slipped in and out of the fabric. The neckline was smooth and rested perfectly on the doll’s porcelain skin and under garments. Irene used her fingernail to lift the edge of the pearl button and slip it through the handmade button hole. Each stitch around the hole was equal and even, without a thread out of place. The detail work was magnificent. It was evident that a lot of attention was put into the making of these fine clothes. Irene sewed and sewed very well, but she excelled in fine needlepoint and decorative stitching She appreciated the work that had gone into this doll. She lifted a second small pearl button and slipped it through the next handmade button hole. The back of the lace cover fell open to reveal a camisole made from fine silk. The detailed stitching on the back of the camisole would rival the finest lingerie from “Paris,” whispered Irene.

“Did you say something, Irene?” Edward asked.

“Oh, Paris. I said Paris. I wonder if perhaps this doll was made in Paris or at lease the fabric and lace came from Paris.”

Edward just stared at the doll.
“You really like this doll, don’t you?” questioned Irene.
Edward paused and stammered, “Well, it is a gift for Sarah, and I’m just interested. I

mean it may have some historic value. I don’t know.”
Irene smiled. She understood completely.
“Mom, where are you?” Sarah’s voice could be heard penetrating the door to the hallway. “Just a minute, Sarah. We’ll be right there.”
“Mom?”
“I said just a minute.”
The doll finally released Edward. He looked up at Irene and said, “I’ll see what Sarah

wants. You can put the doll away.”
Irene smiled. “Okay,” she said as Edward turned and walked toward the door. “Sarah? What do you want? Your mother will be right with you.”
Irene half listened to her husband’s muffled voice as he talked to their daughter. She

returned her attention to the doll. She turned the doll over and began to button the pearl beads on the back of the lace dress. She carefully laid her down on the tissue paper and gently pushed her arms down to her sides. Irene touched the auburn locks and smoothed a strand or two of her hair. She straightened the doll’s legs and adjusted the dress so the lace and fabric were laying flat without any wrinkles. She took another sheet of the tissue paper and carefully covered the lace dress. Holding the doll in place, Irene looked away and reached for another sheet of the tissue paper Under her hand, she felt movement. She pulled her hand away and inhaled sharply. The released tissue slowly fell open to reveal the doll’s face looking up at her through her opened eyes.

Irene gasped and fell back into the bureau upsetting the race filled with brightly colored Gerber daisies. The water spilled down the side of the bureau as the vase crashed onto the hardwood floor. Edward rushed in with Sarah close behind.

“Irene, are you okay? What happened?”

“I-I-I…” Irene could not form the words that were swirling through her head. Her eyes were riveted to the bed. Edward grabbed Irene by her slim, shaking shoulders.

“Irene!” He was almost shouting at her. Her eyes finally met him and she began to cry. “It’s okay. It’s only water. Sarah, bring a rag from downstairs to mop up this water.” Edward cradled Irene in his arms. “What happened?” he whispered.

Irene stopped shaking long enough to answer. “The doll opened her eyes while she was lying on the bed, and I got startled.”

The both looked over at the bed and the “sleeping” doll.

“Well, the eyes are closed now. Perhaps they only looked like they were open,” Edward rationalized just as Sarah walked in and saw the doll. She ran over to the bed and picked her up.

‘Oh, Daddy! She’s beautiful!”
Edward looked at Irene and shrugged. “Should we give it to her now?” “I suppose,” Irene answered.

“Sarah, your mother bought this for your birthday next week, but since you already saw it, you may as well enjoy your gift a bit early.”

“Oh, Mommy, she is beautiful! Thank you!” Sarah ran to her mother and squeezed her around the mother’s tiny waist as tightly as she could while holding the doll close to her chest.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about Sarah not liking the doll,” Edward commented.

“I guess not,” Irene agreed. She picked up the rag that was dropped on the floor in all the excitement and began to mop up the water before it left water marks on the hardwood.

“I have the perfect place for her,” Sarah said as she ran out of the bedroom, doll in tow.

Edward helped Irene up and they walked across the hall to Sarah’s room. There, sitting on the bed, was the doll, bent at the waist with her legs out straight. Her arms rested at her sides and her head was slightly cocked to one side A slight smile was noted by Irene across the doll’s lips. Sarah was busy straightening the dress and smoothing out the lace.

“Mom, look at her hair! It’s the same color as mine!”
Irene had noticed the similarity. “Yes, honey, it does look almost like yours.”
“Does she have a name, Mom?”
“Not that I know of.”
“So does this mean I get to name her?”
“I suppose so,” Edward said.
“Then her name is Miss Ginger. Miss Ginger. I like that name. Miss Ginger, do you like

sitting on my bed? It’s a very comfortable bed, isn’t it? Good, then this is where you will be when I’m not sleeping.”

As Sarah continued to talk, Miss Ginger smiled.

Chapter 3

“Hello. I’m home,” Irene called as she opened the front door. “Anyone here? Hello?” 

The house was quiet except for Irene’s footsteps in the foyer. She put the bag with its precious gift on the floor next to the coat rack. Removing her wrap, she carefully hung it on the hook, unpinned her hat, and placed it on the receiving table under the beveled mirror. She caught herself looking at her face. Raising her hand to her forehead, she pushed a lock of hair back into place and glanced down at the bag on the floor. She hesitated, and then lifted the bag by its handles. She was prepared for the weight, but not the movement. Irene quickly placed one of your hands under the bottom of the bag to steady it. She could feel the doll sitting in the bag on top of the tissue paper. The paper crinkled as she placed in on the coffee table in the parlor. She sat down on the sofa in front of the paper bag, her hands in her lap. The tissue paper crinkled. She wrung her hands and reached out to touch the edge of the bag. The tissue paper crinkled again. Taking a breath, Irene removed the tissue paper, folder it, and placed it on the table next to the bag. She reached inside and lifted the porcelain doll from the bag, and looked at its face. It did have a smile on its lips. She placed the doll next to her, leaning it against the arm of the sofa. Irene straightened out the beautiful laced dress. The crystal blue eyes were wide open and framed by the darkest lashes she had ever seen. The brimmed hat matched her dress perfectly, the thin silk ribbon cascading down the back. Irene stared at the doll. She stared a long time. The porcelain doll was definitely beautiful. The finely chiseled features reflected old knowledge and understanding. Irene could not believe she had spent so much on this doll.

She walked from the parlor into the kitchen. She pulled out a silver tray and placed a linen napkin on it. She selected a china cup and saucer from the cupboard and arranged it on the tray. Taking the tea kettle from the stove, she filled it with water and placed it on the gas burner. She watched the steam begin to rise while she prepared her silver tea ball with orange pekoe loose tea and dropped it into her porcelain tea pot. She watched as the tea seeped into the boiling water as it was poured into the tea pot. She covered the pot with its cap and placed it on the tray. The tea smelled sweet and warm as she carried the tray back to the parlor. She placed the tray on the tea cart and turned to see the doll sitting on the sofa with its hands resting in its lap and its back against the back of the sofa. Its lips were slightly parted and smiling. Irene gasped. “Sarah, are you home?”

There was no other explanation. “Sarah?” No answer.

Irene went to the sofa and quickly and unceremoniously scooped up the doll and placed it back into the bag, stuffing the tissue paper around it. She breathed a sign of relief. It was better if the doll was out of sight incase Sarah came home.  Picking up the bag by its handles, Irene carried it upstairs to her bedroom and placed the bag on the floor in the corner of her closet. It was out sight and hopefully out of mind until Sarah’s birthday.  

She heard the front door open and pulled her head out of the closet where she has just finished tucking the bag carefully behind her shoes. She closed the closet door and smoothed her skirt as she rose.  A quick check in her mirror and Irene hurried out of the bedroom to see who was home. As she walked down the staircase, she saw Sarah close the front door.  “Sarah, you’re home early.”

“Hi, Mother. It’s already 3:00.”

“Oh my! It is getting late, isn’t it? How was school?’ Irene felt a need to continue this conversation.”

“Fine,” was all Sarah said.

“Do you have work to do?”

“Some.”

Irene came to Sarah and put her hands on her shoulders. “Would you like to help me in the kitchen? You father will be home soon.”

“Sure. I would like that.”

“Good.”

Sarah put her books down on the table in the foyer and followed her mother into the kitchen.  Irene began by taking out a cutting board and some fresh vegetables.  

“Would you please rinse the lettuce and tomatoes for me?” she asked.

Sarah picked up the head and placed it in the sink. She turned on the water and began to wash the leaves. 

THUD!

Irene and Sarah looked up at the ceiling. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure,” Irene replied. 

THUD!

“I think I’ll take a look,” Irene said as she made her way to the kitchen door.

“Me, too,” Sarah chimed in as she dropped the lettuce into the sink and turned off the water.

Irene reached the stairs first and looked up to the first landing. “Maybe you should wait here.”

“Why?” Sarah asked as she bounded up the stairs.

“Wait! Sarah! Wait a minute!” Irene ran up right behind her.

Sarah turned when she got to the top. “Come on, Mother.”

Sarah started down the hallway and stopped short. THUD! The sound was loud and close. She turned and looked into her mother’s bedroom.

Irene touched her daughter’s shoulder causing her to jump. “Wait here,” she whispered. She stepped into her room. The closet door was ajar. 

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

Irene listened. 

“Mother?”

“Shhh!” 

Irene strained to hear something, anything. Then she heard it – the rustle. The rustle of tissue paper. She closed the closet door, took a breath, and walked out of her room. 

“Mother?”

“It was nothing, dear, nothing at all. Let go back downstairs,” she said as she helped Sarah out of the doorway and into the hallway. It was time to finish making dinner before her husband came home. The closet and the rustle of tissue paper could wait till later.

Irene descended the staircase looking over her narrow shoulders a couple of times to reassure herself that nothing was there.  As Irene walked down the stairs, she continued to resist the urge to run back upstairs, yank open that closet door and pull the China doll from its hiding place to be sure that it was still there, right where she had put it. Not somewhere else.  

Irene entered the kitchen with Sarah in front of her. She picked up a paring knife and began to peel potatoes, split them, and plop them into a pot half filled with cool water. The light brown skin pieces lay scattered on the newspaper that would later be folded around the scraps and thrown in the garbage. Sarah sat at the kitchen table and carefully ripped the lettuce into bit-size pieces then piled them into a glass salad bowl. 

“Mom, do you want me to slice the tomatoes?”

“That would be nice,” Irene said as she scooped the sliced cucumbers and placed them on top of the lettuce.

Chopping the slim celery stalks, Irene watched her daughter piercing the red firm skin of the tomato. The knife slipped easily through the meat of the tomato leaving a thin line of juice on the cutting board with a seed or two mixed in. Sarah placed the half face down on the cutting board and continued slicing the tomato. When she finished, she slipped the knife under the slices, lifted and placed them on top of the cucumbers. The colors were fresh and vibrant. Sarah could not resist sneaking a piece. As she put the crisp vegetable in her mouth, savoring its flavor, Irene smiled. 

She wondered if the China doll was the right gift for Sarah.

“Sarah, would you please set the table? Your father will be home soon.”

Sarah smiled. “Should I use the good plates?”

“I think that would be a very good idea,” Irene said.

Sarah drifted off to the dining room and opened the hutch to a set of white China dishes with a gold leaf edge. She carefully removed three plates from the shelf and placed them on the mahogany table.  Each place setting sat on a hand-embroidered placemat to protect the finish on the table.  Irene watched from the kitchen as Sarah placed the silverware on each side of the plate.  Sarah returned to the hutch and from the left side removed three water goblets.  “Should I fill the glasses now or later?” she asked.  

“Wait until your father gets home,” Irene answered.

Sarah returned to the kitchen. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“No, I think that’s it.”

“Okay, then I’m going upstairs to finish my homework,”

“Alright, I’ll call you when dinner is ready and your father is home.”

Sarah ran upstairs taking two steps at a time. Irene chuckled to herself. Sarah was a bit of a tomboy at times.  Maybe the doll wasn’t such a good choice after all. Irene was so taken by its unusual beauty that she could not resist buying it for Sarah.

THUD!

Irene jumped. Dropping her dish towel on the counter, she rushed from the kitchen and ran up the stairs calling, “Sarah! Sarah! Are you okay?”

Sarah met her mother at the top of the stairs. “What was that, Mom?”

“Are you okay? You didn’t drop something on the floor?”

Sara could only shake her head from side to side. They both looked at Irene’s bedroom door at the same time and then at each other.

“Hello?  Anyone home? Where is everybody?” Irene’s husband called from the front door. 

Sarah jumped, gave a nervous chuckle, then totally distracted, ran downstairs to her father. “I’m here, daddy!” 

She threw her arms around him and hugged him as though she had not seen him for days.  “Did you have a good day, Daddy? I did. I had a very good day. Do you want to know what happened today, Daddy?  After I got home, I was helping Mom in the kitchen, when we heard something banging upstairs, so we both when up to see what it was, but then we didn’t know where it came from. I thought it came from the bedroom, YOUR bedroom, but then I wasn’t sure.”  Sarah barely paused to catch her breathe. 

Irene reached the bottom of the stairs and glanced up to the second landing. She smiled at Edward and interrupted Sarah. “Sarah, your father just walked in the door. Give him a chance to at least put his coat down.”  She reached for Edward’s coat. He handed it to Irene, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and returned his attention to Sarah.  

So, Sarah, what happened? What did you find?”

“Daddy…” Sarah began.

“Sarah, dinner is almost ready,” interrupted Irene. “Let’s go into the dining room and let your father at least sit down for a minute.”

“Daddy…” Sarah continued, “I think it came from your bedroom. I think there was something in your bedroom that made the noise, Daddy.”

Edward looked at Sarah with the loving eyes of a father. Sarah was such an imaginative child. She always was. Full of stories. And interesting ones at that. “So what happened next, Sarah? What was the sound?”

“Daddy!” Sarah said impatiently. “Daddy, I don’t know! You came home and I ran downstairs and I didn’t go into your room to find out, so I don’t know.”

“Well, if you are going to finish the story, Sarah, we need to know what the sound was.”

“Daddy, I’m not kidding! There was a LOUD sound coming from your room! Mom, tell him. Tell him what you heard!” Sarah was persistent.

“Oh, Sarah. Edward, I was working in the kitchen when I heard a-a-a thump of some sort from upstairs. I thought Sarah had dropped something or fell – I don’t know. That’s all. Nothing else.”

Sarah’s eyes got big. “Nothing else??? Mom, we both looked at the door at the same time!”

Edward was watching this conversation with great interest. He had not seen Irene avoid a subject like she was today. And Sarah… He has not seen Sarah pursuing a topic like this one today either. My goodness! What had happened right before he got home? “Okay, okay. I think that for right now, let’s have dinner and then we can investigate. How’s that?” He prayed for an agreement.

Sarah looked at her mom and then at her dad. She paused. “Okay.”

“Good. I’m starving. What’s for dinner?” Edward looked at his girls and wondered what this evening would bring.

Today I was wandering in my local yarn shop looking for, believe it or not, orange colored yarn.  My grandson asked me for an orange sweater.  So what grandmother wouldn’t just run out to the local yarn shop and search for the perfect orange to create the perfect sweater for that sweet boy.  After repeatedly wandering up and down the same aisles, I found a pumpkin spice, bright orange, pumpkin, paprika, and orange spice.  What’s with all the different oranges?  I just need an orange. A pretty orange. Not an in your face orange.   Richard patiently followed asking, “What do you think of this color? How is this one?” I finally found one I liked.

“Check the dye lot.  Is there enough of that color?”  

“Dye lot?”

“Yes, check the dye lot.”

“Dye lot.  What am I looking for?”

“The dye lot number. The number should be the same on each skein.”

“Got it! How many do your need?”

Not wanting to be caught short, I started figuring out how many yards I will need to complete this project.  Of course, a pattern would help.  It is so hard to find cute sweater patterns for little boys.  There are a few here and there, but not many.  It’s times like this is think I should just take the time to compile my own book with boy patterns.

So I’m off the next aisle to see if there are any pattern books for boys..little boys.  Poor Richard patiently followed me asking, “What are we looking for?” 

“Pattern book. Knitted. Something for little boys.  I don’t have any patterns with me here, and I’m not sure I have anything for a lighter weight yarn.”  At Christmas, I made sweaters for both my grandsons out of a beautiful bulky weight yarn  They were beautiful, but the time they can wear them is limited since they live in Florida.  These sweaters can be worn throughout the year, even on a cool summer night.

Wow!  I found one! Easy knits for Little Boys.  Cute! Cute!  There were several patterns that used a knitted worsted weight (#4).  As I perused the book, I stumbled on several that I would enjoying making.

“How about a vest?” Richard suggested as he looked over my shoulder.  

“I think that could work.”

“So how much do you need?”

Some quick math ensued. I would need 7 ounces or 340 yards of the main color and 3.5 ounces of the contrasting color to make the vest. Back to the yarn selection.  The Pumpkin by Lion Brand Basic Stitch (anti-pilling) was the winner.  Of course it took almost as long to find a nice complimentary color for the trim and strip.  I found a gorgeous Turquoise Heather that looked great.  OMG!  I’m back to Gartor colors!  Well, my grandsons do live in Gartorland.  The University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, is their parents alma mater.

The skeins were 3.5 ounces or 185 yards. Two skeins would equal 370 yards for the main color and one skein would equal 185 yards, which would be enough for the contrasting color. Done!  Selection finished!  

I’m excited to start this new project.  Time to whip out those size 7 needles and get knitting!