Ex’s and Oh’s by Sandra Steffen Read Free Book Online

dining-room table where her parenting books were all open. Where on earth was that blasted key?
    She’d rocked the doll the last time it had woken up. Or had that been the time before? She searched the rocking chair anyway. From there, she went down on her knees, and with one hand felt beneath the sofa cushions.
    “Waaaa.”
    Gently placing the doll in the little carrier she’d come in, Caroline tore the cushions off the sofa. The key was the circumference of a quarter and was three times as thick. It couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.
    She spied a tear in the slipcover. Delving in it with two fingers, she finally came up with the key.
    She jumped to her feet and quickly plugged the key into the doll. After that, she tried everything else, from feeding to burping to changing to walking the floors.
    The doll cried on.
    Should she call Tori or Nell or Pattie or Elaine?
    To help her with a doll? She couldn’t wake them for that. Could she?
    Fleetingly, she thought about putting the doll outside. Instead, she placed the tiny, lifelike object to her shoulder and began to walk, swaying gently.
    “Waaaa,” said the doll.
    She’d graduated from college magna cum laude, but she couldn’t even take care of a realistic-looking inanimate object made of plastic and stuffing and Velcro. As the minutes ticked slowly by and the crying changed but never truly stopped, Caroline’s eyes filled, too.
    Maybe she wasn’t cut out for motherhood at all.
    Tori Young knocked on Caroline’s door. The morning birds were singing and a man’s voice carried from a boat on the channel, but no sounds came from inside the cottage.
    “She must be in there,” Nell said, trying the doorbell for the fourth time.
    Cupping her hands next to her eyes, Tori peered through the window. “Oh, my.” Sofa cushions were on the floor, drawers hung open, chairs were pulled out, and one end of the tablecloth hung to the floor.
    The two old friends exchanged a look. “What do you think happened?” Nell asked.
    “Nothing good.” If there had been signs of a forced entry, Tori would have been afraid the place had been ransacked.
    “Do you know her cell-phone number?” Nell asked.
    “No, but if she isn’t answering her doorbell, it isn’t likely she’d answer her phone.”
    “Maybe she’s in the shower,” Nell suggested. “What are you doing?”
    Tori lifted the welcome mat and moved a rock. “I thought she might have hidden a key out here. I’m going in.” Removing her credit card from her purse, she slid it along the edge of the door. It took a few tries, but the door finally opened. Together, the women slunk furtively inside.
    “Caroline?” Familiar with the house’s layout, Tori checked the kitchen. Backing out again, she bumped into Nell, jumped and swore.
    “Sorry,” Nell whispered.
    Shoulder to shoulder, they started down the hall. The bathroom door was open, the shower dry and empty. They tried Caroline’s bedroom last.
    They found her fast asleep on the bare mattress, one arm beneath her head, the other resting protectively over the doll. Being careful not to trip on the parenting books and bedding littering the floor, Tori approached the bed and very gently shook Caroline’s shoulder.
    “Caroline?”
    It took Caroline a few moments to pry her eyes open.
    “Good morning,” Nell called.
    “It’s really morning?”
    “I’ve had some wild Saturday nights, but from the looks of your place, you win the prize,” Tori said.
    Caroline sprang up and looked all around. “What time is it?”
    “Eight-thirty,” Nell said. “How long have you been asleep?”
    “Almost two hours this time.” She reached a hand to the doll. “She cried most of the night.”
    “She?” Tori asked.
    “Dolly.”
    “Of course.” Tori bit back a grin. “Dolly.”
    Caroline Moore probably had no idea how comical she looked. Pushing her mussed auburn hair out of her face, she adjusted her satin tank. “I’m pretty sure I flunked Life Skills