Lessons from a Dead Girl(7)

“Go on, open her up!” Sam’s voice booms from the end of the table.

I turn the doll’s halves and sure enough they come apart, revealing another doll inside, with a similar seam in the middle. When I open that doll, there’s another.

Sam chuckles as I open the dolls. “I hope you like dolls, Lainey!”

Not since the second grade, I don’t say. Instead I nod politely as I open them, leaving the doll shells lined up neatly on my linen place mat. The dolls get smaller and smaller until, just when I think there can’t possibly be a smaller one, I find a tiny doll without a seam. She’s painted all red, except for her face, and she’s solid.

Mrs. Greene repeats about a thousand times how generous Sam is while we eat dessert. She’s had quite a few refills of wine, and so have Sam and Mr. Greene. Leah and Brooke beg for sips and get a few, but I don’t ask and no one offers.

After dessert, Mrs. Greene ushers everyone into the living room, which is not to be mistaken for the family room. The living room is off-limits except for special company, like Sam. I’ve never even sat on the couch before. The glass French doors to the room are always firmly closed whenever I’m there.

Mr. Greene winds up the old Victrola he bought from my parents’ antique store. The scratchy music that comes out sounds like an old movie.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, not sure what to do with my new doll. When I shake it, the smaller dolls rattle inside.

Mr. and Mrs. Greene sit on the light-blue velvet couch that looks like it’s never been sat on. Leah and Brooke sit on either side of them, their hands on the armrests. Sam’s already doing some sort of two-step around the shiny living-room floor. Slowly, he sashays his way onto the Oriental rug in front of the couch. He holds out his hands to Brooke and Leah. Brooke jumps up and starts dancing with him, but Leah stays put. Sam reaches for her hand and pulls her toward him, smiling and looking into her eyes. She stands reluctantly. He pulls her gently to the middle of the room. When Brooke steps in to join them, Leah starts to move to the music. Sam holds their hands and makes them twirl in synchronized circles. The longer they dance, the more Leah seems to enjoy it. They all do.

Mr. and Mrs. Greene watch, smiling, as Sam tries to dance like he’s in high school. I actually feel embarrassed for him. His forehead is wet, and the hair he brushes over the top of his head keeps slipping down so he has to flip it back over. I seem to be the only one to notice.

I hold the doll over the polished floor and make her dance above it so I don’t have to watch Sam and “his girls.” I set the doll down and try to spin her, but she just wobbles in an awkward circle and tips over. When I pick her up, there’s a small scratch in the floor. I quickly lick my finger and try to wipe the scratch out, but it doesn’t go away. I check to see if the Greenes noticed, but they’re too busy dancing and singing to each other.

I decide I need to go to the bathroom.

No one notices me leave. Instead of going back to the party, I go to Leah’s room and climb into my sleeping bag on the floor. I lie there and wait while the music goes on and on. I try not to think of sweaty Sam dancing with Leah and Brooke. Pretty soon it gets quiet, and I hear Mr. and Mrs. Greene giggling off to their bedroom. But there’s no sign of Leah.

I don’t know what time it is when Leah finally comes into the room. I must have drifted off. Leah doesn’t notice that I’m awake. She pads across the room to her dresser. She rummages through the drawer for a long time. I try to see what she’s doing, but it’s too dark. She keeps sniffling. At first I think she has a runny nose, but then I realize she’s crying.

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her cry.

I don’t dare move. I’m sure she wouldn’t want me to know.

When she finally gets what she’s looking for, she closes the drawer. She starts to walk toward the bed and stops near my feet. I keep my eyes closed and breathe steadily so she’ll think I’m asleep.

She sniffs and makes a sound like she’s wiping her eyes or nose with her hand. Then, instead of getting undressed, she crawls into bed. I hear her moving around in the bed above me. After a while, she throws something down on the floor next to me. I slowly reach my hand out and touch her soft pink sweater.

It’s quiet now, except for her steady sniffling. I should say something, but I don’t know what.

Promise you won’t leave me alone with Sam, she’d said.

But I didn’t. She was with her family, having a good time. She was with Sam, but she wasn’t alone.

So why do I feel guilty?

In the morning, Sam offers to take me home in his Jaguar. Leah and Brooke insist on coming along. Leah and I sit in the tiny backseat. She pretends to be a movie star, waving out the window to invisible fans. Only Leah could do that without being embarrassed.

“You really could be a star, honey,” Sam says. He smiles at her in the rearview mirror.

Leah doesn’t answer him.

When we turn onto my road, Leah looks over at the wooden doll in my hands. “Let me borrow it for a while,” she says. She reaches over and takes the doll from me. I think I see Sam give her a fake disapproving look, but I can’t be sure.

As soon as they drop me off, I go to my room and shut the door. My old Curious George smiles disapprovingly at me from the shelf. “What did I do?” I ask.

But I know. Leah took the doll because I let her down. I broke my promise and Sam did something to her. I don’t know what specifically, but I know it wasn’t good.