The Doll Maker's Daughter at Christmas Chapter 14

Read the chapters of my newest novel as I finish them--before the editor!
Please let me know your thoughts. Read the story from the beginning here.

A Revelation

Maevis had been kind enough to write her response on her father’s stationary, find an envelope, seal it, and accompany her back to her cottage where she now alternated between standing next to the fireplace, pacing, and sitting agitatedly in the rocking chair, arms crossed as she let go the frequent “humph” or sigh.

Once again, Maevis said calmly, “Serendipity, calm down.  He’ll be here soon. He said it could be a couple of hours, and it hasn’t even been one yet.”

Serendipity, who was currently sitting in the rocking chair, rocking furiously as her little friends did their best to keep their tales out of harm’s way, replied, “I know that. But, really, what in the world could be taking so long?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Maevis stated. She was sitting in the only other chair, the one near Serendipity's paints, and each time the opportunity presented itself, she would inconspicuously place a lid on a wayward jar or gather up a scrap of fabric and toss it into the fire, doing her best to tidy the workspace without being noticed. “I’m sure he probably had similar questions while he waited for you to respond earlier, while you were bathing.”

The mention of the word caused Serendipity to pull absently at her hair, which was now pinned up at the back of her head with only a few loose tendrils framing her face.  She crossed her arms again, a scowl on her face, and said nothing in response. She knew Maevis was likely right--it had taken her a very long time to reply--but she was growing more and more impatient as she waited. She needed to retrieve Pozzletot as quickly as possible so that she could return to her work.  Every moment she waited was one less she was spending on her dolls--and Maevis refused to let her paint, sew, or do anything until after she returned for fear she would ruin her outfit or become covered in paint again. Now, there was nothing left to do but wait. She locked her eyes on the fireplace, what had been an ordinary fixture in her home for so long, and began to let her mind drift off to where Pozzletot might be. What was he doing? What was it like to live in the North Pole?   Was he warm enough? Was he getting enough to eat? She heard the clank of glass on glass at her workstation, and without turning her head said, calmly, “Maevis, stop tidying up.”

“Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her caretaker replied. However, she turned her body to face the fire now, her hands folded in her lap, having given up now that she had been caught in the act.  After a few moments of excruciating silence, she finally asked, “What does Mr. Cane look like, Serendipity? Is he handsome?”

Serendipity rolled her eyes, but then, before answering, she considered the question.  She had never really thought about it before.  It had never seemed worth her time to ponder the attractiveness of Mr. Cane, or any other man, especially since she hadn’t even seen any other man since she was a young girl.  She thought for a moment before she finally said, “No, I don’t think so. I mean, possibly…. I’m really not sure.”

Maevis cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows knit together, before she asked, “How do you mean?”

“Well,” Serendipity began to explain, “he has sort of a handsome face, I suppose. But his hair is rather odd. It’s sort of pointy. It stands up on top of his head, sort of like this.” She used her hands to attempt to demonstrate the odd shape of Mr. Cane’s hair to her friend, who seemed rather amused and began to laugh.  Then, she added, “His eyes are rather bright green and sparkly, which I suppose is attractive enough, but his smile…. It’s rather disingenuous.  I’m afraid there’s just something about him that I don’t trust.”

Maevis stopped laughing and looked at her ward carefully. “Serendipity, do you think it’s safe to go with him?”

Realizing that she could potentially lose the opportunity to retrieve her dear friend, she shifted her evaluation. “Oh, yes, I’m sure it’s quite safe. That’s not exactly what I meant,” she began to explain. “I haven’t any reason to be fearful of Mr. Cane--I don’t think he would cause me any harm. I just think he’s… a salesman… out for his own gain and no one else’s. That’s all.”

“I see,” Maevis replied, returning her gaze to the fire. “And then, do you think that Pozzletot went willingly or….”

“Oh, no, I’m quite certain he was likely kidnapped,” Serendipity replied hastily.  “I’m nearly sure of it. He’s never left the house before--not with you or on his own. Surely he wouldn’t just  hide away in the red velvet pocket of a peculiar man with oddly shaped hair. No, I am of the opinion that Mr. Cane decided to take Pozzletot with him, though I’m not quite certain why.”

“To get you to come there, perhaps, to the North Pole?” Maevis offered.

“Yes, likely,” Serendipity replied, hooking her finger in the corner of her mouth. “But if he thinks I shall take a look around and decide to stay, he is sadly mistaken. Nothing shall cause me to do that.”

Maevis pursed her lips. “And what if you speak to St. Nicholas himself? Could he convince you?”

 “Heavens no,” Serendipity replied. “St. Nicholas and I had a falling out years ago, when I asked him for something he did not bring….” Her voice trailed off then, and that forlorn look Maevis knew all too well came across her face like a veil that separated Serendipity from the rest of the world.  

“Well,” Maevis sighed after a few moments. “I hope you shall look around and see what it all encompasses.  I think, perhaps, you might be happier….”

“No.”

“Serendipity, I only think that…”

“No, Maevis.  We’ve been through this. I’m not taking the offer, and that is final.”

“Fine,” Maevis said with a shrug.

“Besides, why is it you’re trying so hard to get rid of me?” Serendipity asked, her hands folded in her lap and her icy blue stare penetrating through Maevis’s distraught expression.

“I’m not!” Maevis implored, looking her in the eyes now. “Heavens, child, I have no idea what I’d do without you. But I’d find something, believe me. If it meant you were happy--happier--and well taken care of--that you weren’t out here on your own, slaving away at something you determined you must do when you were nothin’ but a child, I’d find some way to go on. You can count on that, my love.”

Serendipity listened carefully but did not blink.  Finally, after several minutes of silence, she asked, “Would you want to come with me?”

Maevis wrinkled her forehead in question. “To stay?”

Serendipity nodded once sharply before adding, “Not that I’m even considering it.”

Letting go of a deep sigh, Maevis replied, “I couldn’t child. Oh, I’d miss you something awful. And I’d want to visit, if that’s allowed. And I’d write you letters and hope that you could find a nice elf to write me back. But, no, I couldn’t go with you.”

Cocking her head to one side, almost like a cat, Serendipity asked, “Why not?”

Studying her interlaced fingers carefully, Maevis replied, “Well, I have things to do. I have… people who need me… friends… responsibilities.”

Serendipity continued to stare at her without blinking.  Maevis shifted in her chair. Silence penetrated the room like a thick fog. Moments passed by slowly. At last, Serendipity said, “Who is he?”

Maevis glanced up, meeting her eyes for only a moment before looking back down. “I don’t know what you mean…”

“Do I know him? Have I met him before?”

Smoothing her perfectly straight dress, Maevis replied slowly, “Yes, you know him.”

“How long?”

There was another pause for consideration before the response. “Nine, ten years, I suppose.”

“Before… then?”

“Yes, before,” Maevis confirmed, meeting pale blue eyes at last.  “Your mother didn’t like for us to have relationships--even friendships. I had to hide it from her--from everyone. Still am, I guess, even though there’s really no reason to.”

“He’s not married, then?” Serendipity asked, more out of clarification than suspicion.

“Goodness, no,” Maevis shot back, her hand straightening the back of her pinned up hair. “What kind of a hussy do you take me for?”

“I didn’t think so,” Serendipity replied, “only trying to make sense of… your secret.”

“It has been a secret,” Maevis agreed, “and one I wouldn’t have kept from you, if I didn’t think you’d suppose….”

“Suppose what?” Serendipity asked, her eyes wide again.

“Suppose it had anything to do with… what happened that day,” Maevis clarified.

Serendipity’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.  Though she often pushed thoughts of that April day out of her mind, she reflected on it now. Who on Earth…. Then she realized who her friend must mean. “Deputy Shellingpepper?” she asked, her voice high with excitement and surprise.

“Yes,” Maevis confirmed, glancing down before answering, “but that has nothing to do with…”

“Is that why?” Serendipity asked, standing up so suddenly that the rocking chair shifted behind her and slid back several feet across the floor, sending dozens of little feet scampering for cover. “Is that why he didn’t arrest me?”

“No!” Maevis exclaimed, crossing over and facing Serendipity. “No, that had nothing to do with it. I assure you.”

“He couldn’t take me to jail for killing my family because of his love for you,” Serendipity continued, puzzle pieces flying together in her head now.

“That’s not true,” Maevis implored, her hands resting on Serendipity’s shoulders. “It was not his decision to make, Serendipity.”

“All this time, I’ve been trying to convince myself, trying in vain but trying none the less, that it wasn’t really my fault, that I wasn’t a murderess, but I was--I am--and it was only because of you that he didn’t cart me off straightaway and throw me in prison, never to see the light of day again!”

“Serendipity!  Serendipity!” Maevis yelled, grabbing both sides of her face with her strong hands. “You did nothing wrong!  Sylvester didn’t take you to jail because you did nothing wrong!” Seeing she was getting nowhere, she finally stated,  “There was a hearing, Serendipity.”

“What?” she asked, her wandering, tear-filled eyes refocusing. “What do you mean?”

“There was a hearing. Before the judge. A few days after… after the incident.  I had to testify. So did Sylvester, and Dr. Tweedleton, and Ms. Crottlybloom.  We had to testify as to what happened, to the best of our knowledge, and as to whether or not you had acted with any malice. We had all concurred that it was an accident.  Then, Judge Craftingminer asked if we thought you were of sound mind--that you would be able to go on about your life under your own power, with our assistance. We all said yes. At the time, we all thought we would be able to take care of you.  You were such a little thing, so vulnerable, so frail.  Serendipity, Sylvester had nothing to do with the fact that no charges were brought against you. But he is part of the reason why you still have your freedom.”

“What do you mean?” Serendipity asked, still processing all that her friend was saying.

“He has to come out every few months and do a wellness check. He has to report back to the judge, to let them know you are of sound mind and body,” Maevis explained, finally releasing Serendipity’s face but still looking her in the eye.

“But I haven’t seen him since that day.”

“I know,” Maevis nodded, “because he doesn’t do it.  He lies. He says that he has seen you and you are perfectly sane.”

Serendipity’s puzzled expression continued. “But why…?”

“Because I knew,” Maevis went on as she turned away, her back to her young ward now. “I knew that if I actually let him see you, he would know almost immediately that you weren’t… yourself.  And I wouldn’t let him take you away from me.” She glanced back over her shoulder now. “I wouldn’t let him take you and lock you up in an asylum somewhere where you would wither away and never get better. I needed you here, at home, where I could help you.”

Serendipity nodded.

“Except for I’m not helping you,” she continued, sinking down in the chair.

“What?”

“You’re only getting worse…”

“No, that’s not true,” Serendipity replied, crossing the few steps to the chair and dropping onto her knees before her caretaker. “I’m getting better…. I know I am.”

“Oh, Serendipity, my love,” Maevis said, taking her face in her hands again, “I’d so like to believe that, darling.  My little angel.” She pulled Serendipity’s head to her shoulder, smoothing her hair as she did so. Then, as if lost in time, she asked quietly, “Do you remember when you used to climb into my bed late at night, and we’d look out the window and count the stars? Do you remember that?”

Pulling back to meet her eyes, Serendipity nodded, the tears streaming down her face now.

“Even though you’d been through so much, lost your father, with a mother who never understood you and two spoilt sisters, you were so full of life, so full of glee.  Each night, you’d find a different star and tell me a tale about how you would someday go there. You’d tell me the adventure you would have.”

“And how Father would be there as well.”

“Yes, you would say that.  That your father would be there as well. And I’d remind you that he’s in heaven with Jesus now, singing with the angels. You always wanted to see him just one more time. Oh, sweet girl,” Maevis exclaimed, wiping tears from her own cheek and from Serendipity’s, “this might be your chance at last, to travel to a star, to have an adventure, to start over.  Your Pa won’t be there, that much I know, but he’d be so proud of you for trying.”

“But what of the dolls, of my promise?”

“You’ll take them with you, darling. You’ll work on them up there, among the stars,” Maevis explained.

Serendipity looked down at the floor, shaking her head. “But this is my home…. I don’t want to go…”

“Darlin’,” Maevis said, pulling Serendipity’s chin up to look her in the eye, “whether you go or not, I’m gonna lose you.  I’d rather lose you to a noble cause than have you locked away somewhere where I can never reach you.”

Serendipity shuddered. “You mean an asylum?”

“No, my love,” Maevis clarified, her brown eyes sharp with consternation. “I mean locked away in your mind.”