The Story of Abby Ann…part 2

I hated to wake Mandy this early, so I took some time to look around the rather opulent
bedroom. It was lavishly decorated in pink and white. If Mandy could choose her fantasy bedroom, this would be it, I thought. It was at least three times as big as her room at home, and it was evident the decorator knew little girls. Everything was meant to delight a princess. On one end of the room, there was a pint sized rack of dress-up clothes with everything from cowgirl to ballerina costumes. Beside it was a huge mirror and a dancer’s practice bar. Across from the play area, was a reading nook complete with what seemed to be every children’s book written. Everything was appropriate and perfect for a ten year old.


I was about to check out the closets, when I heard Mandy stir. “Mommy,” she said, “Can I keep her?” She was sitting up in bed, holding on tightly to the pretty little doll.

“Well, good morning to you too!” I said, as I sat beside her on the bed. “Where did you find her?”

“She came to me in the night. She said she was happy that I came back. Have we been here before Mommy?”

“No sweet pea, we have never been here.” It appeared that Mandy was already caught up in the fantasies the room inspired. “What else did she say?” I asked, deciding to play along.

“She wanted to know if Andy came back too. I don’t know who that is, so I didn’t answer. I asked her what her name was. She said she’s still Abby Ann. She wants us to play with the big dollhouse.”

“What dollhouse?” I asked.

“I don’t know Mommy. I’ll ask her when she talks to me again. Can we have breakfast now? I’m hungry.”


At a little before 9:00, the three of us headed downstairs for breakfast. The housekeeper who helped us get settled the night before, was standing at the bottom of the stairs ready to show us to the breakfast room. Once we were all seated, she informed us that Miss Sanders would not be joining us for breakfast, but would meet with us in the drawing room at 10:30. The kitchen helper who served us was none too friendly to Aaron or me, but was very attentive to Mandy. The food was delicious.

From what I had seen of the house so far, it appeared that Mandy’s room was an oasis in the desert. Everything was in good repair, but much of it was either dark or gaudy.

I was without a clue as to why Mother hadn’t told me much about Aunt Beatrice, and nothing at all about Uncle Charles or this incredible country estate. I found myself eager to meet my long lost relatives.


The drawing room was straight out of the 19th century. The wood trim was beautiful, and nothing appeared worn, but the colors were dark and dreary.

A robust voice interrupted my silent critique. Aunt Beatrice made her entrance seated on an51e27994ce0bc565325c69e4babfcd23 electric wheelchair, and was driving a little too fast. She

stopped just short of running over Aaron. Whatever was dark and dreary about the house, Aunt Beatrice compensated for. She was wearing a bright blue boa, and a red hat. Her lipstick was bright red, and her perfume was overpowering. She was tiny, yet bigger than life.


“Hellooo, you must be Aaron,” she said as she raised her hand. I could tell Aaron didn’t know whether to kiss it or shake it. Instead, he sort of bowed to her. “It’s very nice to meet you Miss Sanders,” he said. “Please…call me Aunt Bea,” she insisted. “How delightful to finally meet all of you. Now… I’m in need of a nap, so I must get right to the point.” She began to fan herself, and she seemed short of breath.

“The three of you must move to the estate without delay,” she said. “I can no longer care for my brother Charles. Goodness, he can neither live nor die. You do not need to go back to your home. My attorney will take care of everything.”

At this point, I interrupted her. “We can’t possibly do as you ask, we both have our work and Mandy has school.”

“Nonsense,” she was having none of it. “Aaron travels all the time, you work from home, and Mandy will be tutored.”

“When are you planning to move?” I asked.

“Move? I’m not going anywhere,” she said. And with that, she fired up her chair, made a u-turn turn  and left the room.

I looked to see where Mandy had disappeared to, and found her behind us, playing with an incredibly beautiful dollhouse and her new friend Abby Ann.



The Story of Abby Ann…part 1


It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean,who wouldn’t jump at the chance to move from a small house in the suburbs to a country estate? We were as happy as any couple living the American dream. It wasn’t even that we were looking for a change, but change was looking for us.

On a Monday, I received a registered letter from an attorney’s office back east. I do freelance work from home, so I was there when it arrived. I opened and read it before sitting down, but I had to sit down, and read it again.

I lost my Mother several years ago. I knew she had a sister, whom I had never met. Mother told me they were estranged, but I was never curious enough to ask why. The contents of the letter told me of another relative I knew nothing about.

Dear Mrs. Allen,

I am writing on behalf of your Mother’s sister, Miss Beatrice Sanders. It has become necessary that she meet with you regarding your Uncle, Mr. Charles Sanders. Your Aunt has been his caretaker for many years, but unfortunately, she herself has become too ill to continue this arrangement. You, Mrs. Allen are the only other living relative.

Mrs. Sanders is very aware of the inconvenience this will most likely impose on you, however; time is of the essence. She has requested that I make arrangements for you and your family to meet with her at your Uncle’s home.

Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Mrs. Sanders has requested you arrive on Friday the 12th.

I have enclosed a card with my direct number. I will await your call.


Michael J.Simpson                                                                                                                               Attorney at law

My husband Aaron, was on a business trip, and was to be home the following evening. Our 10 year old daughter, Mandy was home with a cold that day. She was feeling better by the afternoon, and was happily playing with her Barbie dolls in her room.


It never occurred to us not to go. We took a flight on Friday as requested. The attorney arranged to have a car drive us to my Uncle’s home. It was dark, so we weren’t able to see much during the two hour drive, but it appeared Uncle Charles lived in a fairly remote area.

When we arrived at the country estate and stepped out of the car, we didn’t know we were getting our first glimpse of what would become our home.

It wasn’t an extremely old house, and it wasn’t a farmhouse. It was unlike any house I had ever seen before.

We were shown to our rooms by an older woman who appeared to be a housekeeper. She offered to bring us dinner, and told us my Aunt would meet with us in the morning. Mandy took one look at her room and smiled, then fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Aaron and I were exhausted as well, so we didn’t look around at all before falling into bed.

I woke up before dawn, and went across the hall to check on Mandy. She was still sound asleep. She looked like a little angel. It was then I noticed, cradled in her arms, was a pretty little doll that I knew didn’t belong to my daughter.






Bonnie Blue…part 5…existing or living

20160214_215420-1I hardly slept that night. There had to be clues that I was missing. I went over every detail I could recall, from the first time I saw the doll at Goodwill until now. Was Bonnie Blue manipulating me just for the fun of it? Was she trying to tell me something about her past? Maybe she needed my help, but why?

As the night turned into morning, I grabbed some paper and a pen. I wanted to organize all the thoughts, questions, and possible clues I had come up with. I sat cross-legged on my bed for the better part of two hours, without even so much as a cup of coffee. I was driven, and I wanted nothing to distract me.

When I had exhausted everything including myself, I laid my pen down and looked over my notes. Four things puzzled me. First, she had wept when I said, “welcome home,” right after she told me her name. This was one of very few times she had displayed any kind of emotion. Next, she had alluded to having a fairytale life. She had said life, as if she had lived not mearly existed in the form of a doll. Thirdly, the stuffed pony had appeared out of nowhere and then just as suddenly… vanished. It seemed that Bonnie Blue had been trying to draw attention to the pony. It was after it disappeared, she said she was going to ride him. The fourth and last thought I had written on my paper was indeed, the last thing she had asked of me. I was to think about a moment, no, a defining moment in my life that had changed everything.20160214_223232

Suddenly, I heard myself gasp! Next to the  last thought I had written, I had drawn a picture of a little girl sitting on a swing. She was lovely, and seemed to be very peaceful and content. She was looking at the rainbow of colors in a nearby flower garden. There was nothing about this child I recognized. I looked again, and saw beautiful curls framing her striking face. The curls were red… I sat very still, looking at my drawing. I felt slightly dazed as I laid the paper down and got up from the bed.

The pony had vanished, had Bonnie Blue gone away too?