Read The Cats in the Doll Shop for Free Online

desk, going over some figures on a pad. He’s wearing his glasses and a small frown. Figures always make him a little cross. I know just how he feels—figures and arithmetic make me cross, too. “Did you need something?” Mama looks up from her sewing machine.
    â€œI want to make a doll,” I tell her.
    â€œA doll?” she asks. “You mean one of our dolls—Nora or the fairy?”
    â€œNo,” I say looking down. I had wanted this to be a surprise. But that’s not possible. “I want to make a doll for Tania. As a present. She might not have a doll, you know.”
    â€œWhy Anna, that’s such a thoughtful idea,” Mama says, smiling. “What sort of doll did you have in mind?”
    â€œIt’s a secret. Do I have to tell?”
    â€œOf course not,” Mama says. “Just let us know if you need anything.” She goes back to her sewing. I stand there for a minute, looking around for materials, parts, and supplies. I can use one of the bodies from Nurse Nora, and one of the faces, too. I just need some yarn for the hair . . . now where could it be? Didn’t Papa used to keep all the yarn right on the shelf over there?
    â€œLookin’ for something, darlin’?” says Kathleen. I turn. Kathleen has bright red hair and a whole face full of freckles. Her big, friendly eyes are round and amber. She and her husband Michael came over from Ireland. Sometimes, she tells me stories about her cottage back in an Irish village, and about the hard times long ago when the potato crops failed and people didn’t have enough to eat. Like my parents and Tania, Kathleen and Michael made “the crossing.” And like Tania, they spent time on Ellis Island.
    â€œIs there a spare doll body and head I could use? And I need some yarn, too,” I say.
    â€œI think I can help with that,” Kathleen says. I love listening to her. Her lilting accent makes everything sound like a song. She climbs on a stepladder and brings down a box of yarn. So that’s where it’s kept. Yellow, brown, black . . . But I choose a rich orangey-red, a color that’s like Kathleen’s hair. Then she pulls out a box of fabric scraps and another of odds and ends left over from the doll hospital days. “Can you use what’s in here?” she asks.
    â€œYes. This is perfect.” I peer into the box. “Thank you so much!” Kathleen goes back to attaching the dolls’ caps. Michael finishes stacking the boxes and brings one of them to the door. He has black hair that stands up from his head like fur, and a beard covering his wide, jolly face.
    â€œI’m steppin’ out to deliver this now, Mr. Breittlemann,” he says to Papa. Papa nods briefly and looks back down at the figures. Michael gives me a wink before hoisting the box in his strong arms and heading off.
    I find a little open space on one of the tables and lay out my materials. I am going to make a schoolgirl doll. She won’t be a fantasy or a fiction. She’ll be a regular girl just like me. Or Tania.
    Since I helped design and make the very first Nurse Nora, I have some idea about where to begin. I start by securing the orange wool to the doll’s scalp, using glue and adding a few stitches, just to be sure it will stay put. Then I plait the yarn into two neat braids and tie the ends with snippets of black ribbon. I cut out the pieces for a simple costume: gray flannel jumper and white blouse. When I have sewn the pieces together by hand, I slip them on the doll and tie a bit of black velvet ribbon at the neck. That looks pretty.
    â€œHow are you farin’?” Kathleen asks. I look up to see her standing in front of me. She’s wearing her jacket and her hat.
    â€œAre you going home?” I ask.
    â€œIt’s five thirty,” she says, glancing at the clock on the wall.
    â€œI’m going to keep working,” I tell her. I got so involved with