I heard them all come out of Grandpa’s office. Dr. Patrick stopped at the living room to look in on the tree and me.
“This is going to be very pretty,” she said. “I have a younger brother, and he used to look forward to setting up his electric trains. Actually, my father was more excited about it.”
I looked up at her. I had been sitting on the floor, struggling to recall where every toy person had stood in Willie’s village. “I was doing all this for my brother,” I said.
“Were you?” She had that face again, the one with microscope lenses for eyes and that all-knowing smile that at first had annoyed me because it made me feel naked. What was more personal to you than your thoughts and feelings? Having those visible made you vulnerable, even helpless. It was like trusting someone to hold your hands in a trapeze act. You were dangling and totally dependent on your partner’s grip.
“Maybe for the boy upstairs, too,” I confessed.
She changed her all-knowing smile to a warm one. “I suspected that,” she said.
“What’s happening with him?”
“We’ll keep things as they are for the time being,” she said. “Physically, he has made good improvements, although his motor skills, his walking in particular, will take time and, as we feared, might never be what they should be.”
“And?”
“Some breakthroughs. Right now, they don’t make enough sense to act on, but your grandfather’s taken control of that part and will be dealing with the search.”
“For his parents?”
“Whatever family can be located. He’ll tell you more about that. I have to go.” She started to turn away but stopped. “He’s still quite fragile mentally. I know it sounds self-serving, but
my working through his trauma and fears takes the same skill employed by a brain surgeon. Don’t press him too hard. Your boyfriend did well with him, but make sure he understands, too, okay?”
I nodded. She smiled again and left. Dorian walked by with Dr. Friedman, but they didn’t stop to speak with me, too occupied with what they were discussing. I heard Dorian go back up the stairs and Dr. Friedman leave the house. Grandpa remained in his office, so I decided to go up the ladder and place the angel at the top of the tree.
“Perfect,” I heard Grandpa say just as I finished. “Be careful on the ladder.” I started down, and he came over to hold it.
“Dr. Patrick stopped in,” I said. “She said he was all right for now.”
“Yes. I’m going to see the police detective who has been on the case,” he said.
“What did you learn, exactly?” I asked.
He stepped back and sat on the sofa. “I promised Dr. Patrick that you and I wouldn’t pursue him on these clues.”
“I told her the same.”
“Good. Whatever else he says, of course, we’ll relay to the police. So . . . when he shouted that word, ‘carry,’ it seems it’s a name probably spelled C-a-r-r-i-e, because it appears to be a girl’s name. That’s what Dr. Patrick believes.”
“A sister?”
“We believe so. He also mentioned a Cathy, but then he called her Momma, so we’re unclear if that’s another sister or if that is his mother’s name. There’s also confusion over a name that seems to be his father’s but also might be an older brother’s.”
“He does have an older brother. I knew it,” I said.
“We’re not absolutely sure yet, Clara Sue. He referred to a Christopher, but the references would be ones you thought meant a father. It’s very cloudy.”
“But what about his full name?”
“He seems quite reluctant about saying his name. What he gave us as a last name makes no sense.”
“What?”
“Doll.”
“Doll? Could anyone have a name like that?”