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“Jesus! What the hell is that?” He seems to have found the box with Mrs. Jackson’s doll in it.
Brigitte the Boudoir doll’s painted eyes looks sideways; from where Rob stands, it must seem as if she’s looking at him. I can imagine. With their exaggerated shape, it appears as if the doll is warning him:something is coming.
“Aren’t you scared of these?” he asks.
“Sometimes it can be creepy. Some dolls just have an evil look,” I say as I reinstate Bjork’s ear. “Have you heard of the Island of the Dolls?”
“That sounds like the last place on earth I’d want to be.”
“It’s in Mexico. They’ve been there for years, exposed to the elements, but people still hear the dolls making noises. No batteries last that long, right?” I observe his tense face. “You know, none of my boyfriends last after I tell them I want to have our honeymoon there.”
This time Rob freezes. “You’re not serious, are you?” He evaluates my expression, and then I release a guffaw.
He relaxes. “Imagine those dolls crawling toward you. ‘Save us, Amber! Save us!’”
Thatiscreepy.
“Honestly, it’s the last place on earth I’d want to be, too.” I pick up Bjork’s new eye. “Once I had to fix a doll that looks like Chucky. You know, that horror movie.”
Rob grimaces.
“The doll had a faulty eye. It flicked open and closed at random. I couldn’t sleep for a week.”
“Let’s stick to teddy stories.”
“Teddies are the best.” I throw him an extra-sweet grin while moving on to Bjork’s barely-hanging leg.
Perhaps seeing my focus intensifying, he asks, “Is it bad?”
“No, no. I’ll have to detach it and start again, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” I loosen the joint plates, and after a few adjustments, I reattach the bear’s leg. “Rob, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is Matthew your son?”
Instead of answering, he smirks and takes out a photo. Him, and another guy, and a boy. All my admiration toward him, and now I find out Rob is gay? And look at his husband! He’s as handsome as Rob, as if they’d come from the same mold. Some people say soul mates can look alike—I guess those two men are just meant to be.
“This is Clay, and this is Matty.” He points at the man and the boy. “We’re all brothers.”
I raise my eyes to him, only to be charmed by his wide grin.
“I bet you thought Clay was my husband and Matty was our son.”
With guilty-as-charged eyes, I respond, “You get that a lot?”
Rob sends me a light wink and puts the photo back in his wallet.
I escape his stare, although I’m sure he catches my relieved look before I shift my gaze back to my patient. Really, the man’s marital status should be of no relevance to me.
With that, I move onto Bjork’s arm. I’ve saved the hardest for last. There’s a gaping hole in both the shoulder and the arm itself.
“I have to patch up these rips. Unfortunately, I don’t have the exact material.” I show Rob the closest-matching fur textile I have. “But I think it should be okay. Once the arm is rejoined, you’ll hardly see it. Are you okay with that?”
“You’re the expert.”
I serve him a soft smile, but Bjork’s close-to-mended state draws his attention to the bear’s belly and the blood specks on it. Then he sobs.
I drop what I’m doing and hold his hand. “Rob?”
