I couldn’t resist the bare light bulb for Claire’s attic. I selected a three-tier petit four stand for the dining table, and was lingering over some tiny kitchen utensils when Jeanne came up to me.
“Aren’t these darling?”
“Yes, Jeanne, but before I get too carried away, I want to try to stay as authentic as possible.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about it too much, sweetheart. Just have fun.”
Ardine Smalls came around the corner of an aisle, carrying a box. “Yes, you don’t have to worry about it unless you’re going to be the next Mrs. James Ward Thorne.” She giggled, showing those uneven teeth.
“Who was this paragon?” I asked.
“She created remarkable rooms in the early twenties. They’re at the Art Institute of Chicago now. Totally historically accurate through five centuries, from the sixteenth to the twentieth. She designed all the textiles inside, too.”
“You’ve discovered my little secret, Daisy,” Jeanne said as she pointed at the box Ardine was holding. “Ardine designed a lot of the displays here in the store for me.”
“They’re beautiful.”
Ardine beamed at me. “I love doing them. It’s kind of like interior design and stage design rolled into one.”
She set the box down and I peered into an open-plan kitchen and living room. On the kitchen counter, I saw a bowl of batter and balls of chocolate chip cookie dough set out on a baking sheet. It was so clever and realistic, I felt my mouth water.
In the living room, there was authentic clutter—projects in progress, a bookshelf crammed with books, and a coffee table holding some knitting, a sewing pattern, and tiny needles.
“It’s good to suggest movement and a sense that someone has just left the room.” Ardine bent down next to me. “Look at your composition from every angle. Also think of where the traffic lanes are.”
I felt myself zooming down to one inch tall. I would have simply positioned the furniture in my dollhouse wherever it looked good. But could I really pass between the parlor table and the fainting couch?
“This is fascinating, Ardine. I had no idea that so much went into it.”
We both straightened up, although it took me a little longer.
“And the most important thing?” Ardine waggled her finger. “A room has to have a personality. Finding the rhythm in a room is a subtle thing. Like music, you have to get it just right.”
I nodded and picked up a steamer wardrobe travel trunk. I knew that was proper Victorian detail and would appeal to Claire, too. She could pretend the occupants of the house were packing for a journey. Speaking of which, they would need toiletries. I added a bar of soap and a hot water bottle to my pile. There was even a chamber pot, but I passed on that. I chuckled as I imagined Claire’s reaction. Ew!
“Oh, and I need to pick out some paint,” I told Jeanne. I scanned the shades on the wall, but couldn’t seem to find quite the right one. She showed me a catalog with more selections, and I finally found the perfect pale lilac hue.
“If I order it for you today, it should come in Monday or Tuesday.”
As I paid for the items, I thought of getting mad at Joe for spending money on his tools.
You’re such a hypocrite, Daisy Buchanan.
But it’s for Claire, I protested to my inner voice.
Jeanne had a quizzical expression on her face and I wondered if I’d spoken out loud. I was getting too accustomed to my conversations with Alice the mannequin. I mumbled good-bye and told her I’d see her next week for the paint.