"Can I call and talk to her?" Gretchen asked.
"You have to pass it through the switchboard, but I think she's restricted."
"Is this a prison or what?" April called through the open window. "I never heard of a lockdown like this in all my life."
The guard hiked his pants and leaned over to peer in at the passengers, taking in April, Nina, and the festival of canines crowding the car window. "The privacy that our residents receive at Grace Senior Care is the exact reason they come here. They don't want every Tom, Dick, and Harry rolling in whenever, like you women are trying to do."
He frowned when another car pulled in alongside of the Echo. "Now back up and pull away before I get annoyed. You're blocking traffic."
Gretchen backed out of the driveway and drove out of sight of the guard station before finding a parking space.
"Now what?" she asked. "Either Chiggy doesn't want company, or someone else is making sure she doesn't have any."
"We can walk in," April suggested. "They probably don't have much security inside because of the guard at the gate. We can walk down that sidewalk over there," she pointed along a walkway. "And go right in."
"Okay," Gretchen agreed. "What do we have to lose?
But… you'll have to stay in the car, April."
"Why?"
"Because you look like a mutant orange tulip."
Gretchen saw April's face caving in and beginning to register a look of anguished hurt, so she added quickly. "Beautiful and vibrant and totally memorable. The last thing we want is to stand out."
April glanced down at her dress and beamed. "I see what you mean." Then, a little sheepishly, "I didn't want to go anyway."
"I suppose you think I should do this instead of April?"
Nina piped up. "What you're planning is probably against the law. Since when did you start sneaking around?"
"I guess since I started getting threatening letters."
"That's melodramatic." Spoken by Nina, queen of the dramatic actors association. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm staying here, too. If you're in jail, somebody will have to take care of Nimrod and Wobbles."
"Fine," Gretchen said, opening the car door.
"Leave the air-conditioning on," April suggested. "It's hot as French fry oil out there."
"This sounds like something that bumpkin aunt of yours would come up with. You haven't been getting advice from Gertie Johnson again, have you? I bet-"
Gretchen slammed the door and stalked off.
How does your aloneness feel now? she asked herself, as the building loomed ahead of her where Chiggy, aka Florence Kent, resided.
Sometimes life really was a very lonely venture. Once you veered from the safe and familiar path, no one wanted to follow anymore. Instead, they stood on the sidelines hoping you'd trip over a rattlesnake so they could say,
"See? I told you so."
She refused to look back at the parked car loaded with former followers.
34
Doll collectors are perceived by some as crazy old ladies who have nothing better to do than talk to dolls. In reality, this stereotype constitutes a very small percentage of serious collectors. Typically, doll lovers come from all walks of life and backgrounds. They can be biologists, high school principals, lawyers, nurses, novelists, computer programmers, or actors. Occasionally, however, you will still run into the crazy old lady.
– From World of Dolls by Caroline Birch Gretchen walked along the side of the building, making sure she wasn't visible from the guard's station. Once she neared the main entrance, she stopped and wondered what to do next. Her answer magically appeared in front of her. Today might be her lucky day.
She spotted the car that had pulled up beside her when she tried to get past the guard. Its occupants were walking from a parking lot on the opposite side of the building, a man, a woman, and two small boys about four or five years old. The man opened one of the massive doors leading into the building, and Gretchen slipped in behind them as they gave their names and the name of the resident they were visiting through an intercom system. She heard the door lock click, released remotely by someone inside the building, and the group moved past a reception desk. One of the boys glanced at Gretchen, and she looked away, trying to keep the right amount of distance between them-far enough not to arouse the parents' suspicion, close enough not to alert the receptionist to the fact that she wasn't part of the visiting group. She was careful not to make eye contact with anyone.
You certainly are clever, she thought, her heart beating as fast as a revved-up jet about to take off, excited and afraid at the same time. The same feeling she had at the doll auction when she was bidding on the Ginny dolls. Gretchen waited for the receptionist to call out to her and demand an explanation and the proper credentials, but soon she was past the desk and approaching a long corridor. The only sound was hushed voices from the family she had infiltrated.
Gretchen was inside.
Not that it helped her much, since she had no idea where Chiggy was staying in this vast senior complex. As soon as she was out of sight of the entrance, she turned a corner, disengaging from the group ahead of her. She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and called Nina's cell. "Find out what room Chiggy's in," she said.
"Humph," said Miss Suddenly Righteous. "You should have thought of that before you so brazenly flaunted the center's rules."
"Just do it."
Nina must still have had some residual anger over her broken date with Eric and planned on punishing her for the rest of the day in subtle, annoying ways.
"And how am I supposed to find out?" Nina said curtly. Gretchen could hear April say something in the background. Then while Gretchen walked briskly down another hallway, Nina filled April in. Gretchen hoped no one would stop her if she looked as if she knew where she was headed. Nina came back on the line. "April says she'll call and pretend she's with UPS and has a package that requires a room number."
"Whatever works. I'll call back in a few minutes."
She forced herself to wait several long and excruciating minutes before calling back, all the while striding down one corridor after another. When she did call Nina back, she learned the room number.
Gretchen had been noting room numbers on the doors as she turned another corner. Not only was she inside, but she was moving in the right direction.
Aunt Gertie would be so proud.
At first, Chiggy Kent thought she was one of her caregivers. Gretchen figured the bottled air running from the tank to her nostrils wasn't doing the job it should. The lack of proper oxygenation was affecting her mind. Then she realized that Chiggy had a vision problem.
Blind as the proverbial bat.
"It's Gretchen Birch," she said, identifying herself. "Caroline Birch's daughter. We met two months ago at Bonnie's house during one of the Phoenix Dollers Club meetings.
"Oh, yes. I remember." Chiggy sat up straighter in a chair next to her bed.
"It wasn't easy getting in to see you. We were worried that there was a conspiracy going on to keep you secluded." She laughed lightly.
"I specifically said no visitors," Chiggy said, annoyed.
"I thought I was firm about my requirements when I moved here." She brushed back a few gray strands of hair falling on her face, and Gretchen thought that, at one time, she must have been a beautiful woman. Nicotine and excessive Arizona suntanning had taken a toll. "No matter. I'll take it up with the staff later. You're here now."
Chiggy spoke slowly, pausing to wheeze and allow the extra oxygen to kick in.
"I have a few questions about your dolls." Gretchen took a seat beside her and glanced around. The room was stark, containing only the essentials, exactly like a hospital room.