My heart jumps. I recognize the flowing green gown. A Scarlett O’Hara Madame Alexander doll. I thrust Lucky into Aidan’s arms and step past him to look inside. I pull the dolls out, one after the other. Little Red Riding Hood! Cissy in her aqua gown! Lady of Spain! All of them. All the dolls that were missing from my shelf. “These are mine!”
“What?” Seth asks.
“These are my dolls! My collection! The ones that were missing from my shelf!”
“That’s impossible,” Aidan says.
I spot a folded piece of paper in the box and pull it out. I open it and hold it close to the glowing trunk bulb. I read it aloud.
“I thought you would want to keep these. They shouldn’t take up much room at Hedgebrook.—EF.”
I shake my head. I still don’t understand. “How—”
“The glove box!” Seth shouts. “Check the glove box!” But he is already racing to it himself. He shuffles through it, money and paper falling to the floor of the car, until he finally emerges with a white envelope smaller than his palm. He hands it to me. The dim barn light is enough for me to read the neatly printed letters on the front.
Destiny.
My fingers shake as I pull out a pink card. The front has a tiny glittered white birthday cake on it. I open it.
I read it aloud to the others.
“Happy Birthday, Destiny. I think it’s time for you to celebrate. These wheels come with an instructor and lessons. I’ve included some cash for fuel. I hope you like it. And I hope you still like pink. Love, Mr. Farrell.”
“It’s for your birthday,” Seth says, like he has unraveled a great mystery.
I look up at him. I can’t think. He grabs my shoulders and says again, this time very slowly, “He gave you this car for your birthday, Destiny. It was yours all along.”
“That’s right!” Aidan says. “Back at the house, Mr. Farrell said he had sent a little something for her to Hedgebrook.”
“I’ll say it’s a little something!” Mira chimes in. “A big little something!” She and Aidan climb into the back seat with a seemingly newfound appreciation for the car now that it’s mine. Mira runs her hand over the chrome door handles.
“It’s my car,” I say, still stunned. I open my door and get in. I slide my hand across the leather seat. It is not the extravagance of the car that stuns me. It is the thought put into its choice. The color, the model, all different and quirky like me. Mr. Gardian used great care in selecting it and also in its delivery. I am still retracing the steps I took when I stumbled upon it this morning. The messenger who brought it must have stepped away for just a brief moment, perhaps looking for directions. It was supposed to be a surprise. A gift from Mr. Gardian. I’ve had years of kindness and patience from him, kindness I could never fully accept, turning away compliments and encouragement, keeping him at a distance as I did everyone else, but he never wavered in his duty to care for me or failed to pay attention to the subtle cues of my likes and dislikes. Mother and Father chose well. My car. I finger the hole that Lucky chewed in the middle of the seat, and Seth winces.
“It’s fine,” I say. “Just as it is.”
“We could all chip in—”
“Seth, I am probably the wealthiest orphan in the country—at least I will be when I turn twenty-one. If I wanted to fix it a hundred times over, I could. Maybe one day I will. But for now I’ll think of it as a souvenir of this day.”
“I knew you had to be loaded,” Aidan says. “I just didn’t know how loaded.”
“But there’s one thing I still don’t get,” Mira says, leaning over the back of my seat. “Why didn’t you go live with your aunt Edie instead of Mr. Farrell? She is a blood relative, after all.”
My stomach twists. Aunt Edie was the one detail I avoided. I look at Seth and then back to Mira. How much can one person be expected to give up in one day? My perfect aunt. The one who talked for me when I couldn’t. The one who wanted me. The one Mr. Gardian tolerated because he knew I needed her. I feel my lips part, but I can’t force any words between them.
“It’s all right.” Mira plops back in her seat. “You don’t have to tell. You’ve shared enough secrets today.”
“There is no Aunt Edie,” I blurt out. “There never was.”
Seth watches me carefully. I am ashamed that I still held back. The car fills with awkward silence.
“What about this morning?” Aidan finally asks. “The note that said she couldn’t come.”
“That was from me. I called the front office and left the message. I’ve always covered for Aunt Edie, to explain her absences.”
“But you just said there is no Aunt Edie. How can you cover for someone who doesn’t exist?”