Dollbaby: A Novel (34 page)

“Annabelle,” Fannie said calmly, “all you have to do is drop the charges against T-Bone. Seems like a sweet deal to me. If I were you, I’d take it. Otherwise, we’ll see you in court.”

Annabelle was looking from her mother to Ibby, her mouth agape.

“Well?” Fannie tapped her foot. “I don’t have all day.”

“Okay,” Annabelle said quietly.

“What did you say?” Honey asked.

Annabelle threw the blanket down. “Okay! I said okay!”

“Say it out loud. Say T-Bone didn’t rape you,” Ibby said.

Annabelle made a face.

“Say it, for the record,” Ibby said.

“He didn’t do it.”

“Just to make clear. You will be going down to the station and signing a piece of paper stipulating that all accusations against T-Bone have been dropped. Is that correct?” Fannie said.

Annabelle stood. “Yes.”

“Now, why don’t you go down to the station with Commander Kennedy, and we’ll be on our way. You heard all that, didn’t you, Peter?” Fannie called.

Kennedy stuck his head in through the door. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Why’d you do it, Ibby? Why didn’t you just let it be?” Annabelle whined.

“I couldn’t let you ruin his life,” Ibby said.

“Why? He’s just a—” Annabelle cried.

Ibby wagged a finger at Annabelle. “Don’t go there. T-Bone Trout has more class in his little pinky than you’ll ever have.”

Annabelle lunged at her, but Honey held her back.

Ibby felt Fannie’s grip on her shoulder. “Time to go.”

Kennedy escorted Annabelle and Honey to his squad car. As soon as he drove off, Fannie started her car.

“I’m mighty proud of what you did in there, Ibby. It took a lot of courage. I’m just curious, though. Was that all true?” Fannie asked.

Ibby looked the other way, out the car window. The sun was sitting low in the sky, hovering over the horizon as if it didn’t want to let go. She gave her grandmother a half smile. “Most of it.”

Fannie patted her on the knee and gave her a wry smile back. “That’s my girl.”

Ibby remembered what Fannie had said in the cemetery not long ago. She said you had to live the life given to you.
Maybe that’s true,
Ibby thought as she watched the last vestiges of the day fade away.

But sometimes it’s possible to give life back
.

I
t was late May, and Ibby was studying for her last exam, hunched over her desk as the window unit blasted cold air her way, riffling the pages of her history book. She’d stayed up most of the night cramming and was having trouble concentrating. She picked up the postcard she used as a bookmark and was about stick it into the book so she could get some coffee when she turned it over. The edges of the card were frayed, and the writing on the other side had almost completely faded. It was a postcard from T-Bone, one he’d sent from Germany when he’d first left to tour with a band in Europe four years ago. He’d been there ever since.

Ibby looked at her watch. It was almost five o’clock. She still had a lot of studying to do. When she’d enrolled at Tulane University two years earlier, she’d moved out of Fannie’s house and into an apartment across town with the promise that she’d spend every Sunday evening with Fannie. She hadn’t missed a Sunday supper in two years. She was so far behind in her studying that she was seriously thinking about calling Fannie to cancel when the phone rang.

“Miss Ibby?” Doll said.

“I know I’m late,” Ibby replied.

“I think you should come around,” Doll said.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it tonight, Doll. I’ve got
my European history exam tomorrow, and I’m just not ready for it yet. I’m afraid I’m going to have to skip supper.” She was feeling guilty. She knew Queenie had already prepared a big meal in anticipation of her weekly visit.

“No, Miss Ibby, I think you need to come,” Doll repeated.

Ibby held the phone out from her ear, wondering what had her all riled up. “I’m sorry but I’m really behind in my studies.”

“Miss Ibby, I need you to come on by
now
.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

There was no answer—Doll had hung up. Ibby held on to the phone receiver, thinking what an odd conversation they’d just had.

She got up from her desk and stood by the window, watching the other students that had already finished their exams heading over to Bruno’s Tavern. She wished she was one of them. She thought about what Doll had just said. Perhaps a break might do her some good. And Queenie’s courtbouillon, fried okra, and bread pudding would be just what she needed to get her through the long night of studying ahead. She slipped on her clogs and headed for the door.

When she arrived at Fannie’s house, Doll was standing on the front porch, obviously upset about something. Ibby noticed Fannie’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

“Come on in, Miss Ibby,” Doll said.

Queenie was in the front hall, wringing her hands. “We didn’t know what else to do, Miss Ibby, so we call you.”

“Where’s Fannie?” Ibby followed Queenie into the dining room, where two places were set for the evening meal.

“Miss Fannie, she went out for a drive, but she ain’t come back,” Doll said.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed six times.

“Maybe she forgot the time,” Ibby offered. “She could just be late. You know how she gets sometimes when she drives around in that car.”

“Miss Fannie, she left the house early this afternoon. She never goes out for more than an hour or two,” Queenie said. “We kept waiting
around, thinking she’d be back, but she been gone a good five hours now.”

“Besides,” Doll added, “she knows you come around for supper about this time. She’d never miss that.”

“Do you know where she went?” Ibby asked.

“She never tells us. But I know sometimes she goes out to visit the family in the cemetery,” Doll said.

“What do you want me to do, drive around and look for her?” Ibby asked.

Queenie heaved up her chest. “Yes, Miss Ibby. That might be a good idea.”

“All right then, I’ll go out to the cemetery, see if she’s there.”

“Come on, Mama. Let’s get back to the kitchen.” Doll took her mother’s arm. “Maybe she show up soon, then you can quit your worrying.”

Queenie swatted her arm. “Like you ain’t worried.”

Ibby was sure Fannie would turn up sooner or later, she always did, but by the time she reached the cemetery, the gates were locked for the evening. She drove to the racetrack, to the perfume shop, anywhere she thought Fannie might be, but after an hour she gave up. When she returned to the house, Fannie’s car was still not in the driveway.

Queenie and Doll were both waiting on the front porch this time.

“Well?” Queenie asked.

Ibby shook her head. “She hasn’t called?”

“No, Miss Ibby. Where could she be?” Queenie’s eyes began to well up.

Ibby put her arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go in the kitchen and figure it out.”

They all sat down at the kitchen table.

“Has anyone called the police?” Ibby asked.

“We didn’t want to do nothing until you got back, in case you found her,” Doll said.

“Do you have Commander Kennedy’s phone number?” Ibby asked.

“It’s in that little book Miss Fannie keeps by the telephone.” Doll pointed toward the hall.

Ibby dialed the number. “May I speak to Commander Kennedy?”

“Speaking.”

“Kennedy, this is Ibby Bell.”

“You caught me just as I was leaving. What can I do for you? How is Fannie?”

“Well, actually, that’s why I’m calling. She seems to have gone missing. She left the house this afternoon and hasn’t returned. We’re getting a little worried. You haven’t heard of any accidents or anything, have you?”

“Let me check.” Ibby could hear him scoot away from his desk. He came back on the phone a few minutes later. “I don’t see any that would correlate. Do you want me to file a report?”

Ibby hesitated. “No, I’m sure she’ll turn up. You know how she is.”

“I’ll call if I hear anything.”

Ibby put down the receiver and went back into the kitchen. She sat back down at the table, trying to appear chipper.

“What he say?” Queenie asked.

“He said there weren’t any reports of accidents, but he said he’ll call if he has any news,” she said.

Queenie set a plate in front of Ibby. “Best go on and eat. Getting pert near eight o’clock.”

Ibby picked up a fork and chewed on a piece of okra. “Tell you what. I’ll get my books and study here in case Fannie shows up. Why don’t you all take some supper and go on home? I’ll call if I hear anything.”

Queenie and Doll looked at each other.

Ibby could tell this wasn’t sitting too well with them. “No use everybody sitting around here panicking. Besides, how am I going to study with you two fretting?” she said.

“Miss Ibby’s right. Come on, Mama,” Doll said.

“I’m gone leave Miss Fannie a plate in the oven, case she do come back,” Queenie said.

After they left, Ibby finished her supper, then drove to her apartment to get her books. She half-expected to find Fannie sitting in the dining room smoking a cigarette when she returned. But when she pulled up to the house, it was dark.

Ibby went in and sat at the kitchen table. She opened her textbook, trying to get in a bit more studying, but the house was so quiet it was making her nervous. Every five minutes or so, she’d get up and look out the back window. When it got to be midnight, there was no doubt in her mind that Fannie was in trouble. Sometime during the night, she dozed off on the lumpy couch in the front parlor.

She was awakened by the sound of the back door slamming at six-thirty the next morning. Queenie came into the kitchen grumbling because the oven had been left on all night, the plate of food she’d left for Miss Fannie still in it.

“Like to have burned the whole house down,” Queenie was saying as Ibby came into the kitchen.

“Ain’t a good sign, Mama. Means Miss Fannie ain’t here,” Doll said.

“Morning,” Ibby said groggily.

“You stay up all night, Miss Ibby?”

“Most of it.” Ibby yawned.

“No phone calls?” Queenie asked.

Ibby shook her head.

“Lawd Almighty.” Queenie fell back down onto a stool.

“I really hate to leave, but I have an exam at eight. I’ll come straight back when I’m finished.” She saw the way Doll was looking at her. “Maybe I should skip it. I’ll see if I can get in touch with the professor.”

“No, no. We here in case she come home. You go on. Hope we have good news when you get back,” Queenie said.

Ibby had trouble concentrating on the exam. All she could think about was Fannie. It had been almost twenty-four hours and no news. She put down her pencil and rubbed her eyes. This was a dumb idea. She handed in her exam early and left. When she got back to Prytania Street, there was a car in the driveway, but it wasn’t Fannie’s.

As she opened the back door, she heard voices in the dining room. Queenie and Doll were sitting at the table with Emile Rainold.

Queenie came barreling over. “Oh Miss Ibby! Miss Ibby!”

She hugged Ibby so hard she almost knocked the wind out of her. Ibby had never seen her so distraught.

Please let Fannie be all right,
Ibby was praying as she took a seat at the table.

Emile reached over and put his hand on hers. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. The police found a car in Lake Pontchartrain this morning.”

Her arms fell to her sides when the gist of what he was saying slowly sank in.

Mr. Rainold paused before continuing. “There is no way of knowing for sure, but they believe Fannie may have stepped on the gas instead of the brake, accidentally plunging the car into the lake. I’m so sorry.”

Ibby imagined her grandmother looking at her watch, realizing that it was time to go home and have supper, and then hitting the gas pedal hard, the way she always did when she backed out of the driveway, only this time the car would lunge forward, hurdling over the seawall and into the water.

“Miss Ibby?” Doll said. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Ibby sighed. “I was just thinking about Fannie, out there . . . all alone.” Her voice trailed off and she hung her head.
Why couldn’t I have been there to help her?

“She may have had a heart attack,” Mr. Rainold said after a while. “There was no sign of struggle.”

“Where is she now?” Ibby asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Bultman’s Funeral Home is taking care of the arrangements. She’s evidently built a sizable tomb for the family out at the cemetery.”

“Yes, I know all about that,” she said.

“As per her wishes,” he said, “there is to be a small service at the Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, then the burial for family only out at the cemetery.”

Mr. Rainold must have noticed the puzzlement in her face. Ibby had never heard Fannie mention any kind of religious affiliation.

“Fannie gave quite a bit of money to the Holy Trinity Church over the years,” he added.

No one said anything for quite some time.

“I expect the earliest the funeral can take place is Thursday. This is such a shock to all of us,” he said. “Ibby, you know I was a great admirer of your grandmother’s. She was quite a woman.”

When no one spoke, he picked up his briefcase and stood up.

As soon as he left, Ibby’s head fell into her hands and she began to sob.

Queenie came over and put her arm around Ibby. “It gone be all right, Miss Ibby.”

She sank her face into Queenie’s chest. Queenie rocked her as if she were a baby. She could hear Doll sniffling close by.

“Well, you knew she weren’t just gone die in her sleep,” Doll said after a while.

Queenie looked over at her. “Ain’t that the truth. No, not our Miss Fannie.”

Doll and Queenie always did know how to make Ibby laugh, even in the worst of times.