The Cats in the Doll Shop by Yona Zeldis McDonough Page B

the furrier, Mr. Rosensweig, who has a shop on Orchard Street. Mama is friendly with his wife.
    Sophie, Trudie, and I sew muffs for our dolls. Sophie’s is dark brown, Trudie’s is black, but mine is the best of all—pure white, like the snow. Of course the dolls have to model the muffs, and then we pretend they are all very fine ladies, strolling on Fifth Avenue in their real muffs, and their (imaginary) fur cloaks, and when they are tired, they take a carriage ride around Central Park.
    It’s only when we are finished with our game that I realize I have not seen Tania for hours, not since this morning. She played with us in the snow, though she went in earlier than we did. I thought that she was cold, and when she warmed up, she would come back outside. But she didn’t.
    â€œHave you seen her?” I ask Sophie.
    â€œNo, not for a while,” Sophie says. We both look at Trudie, but she too shakes her head.
    â€œDo you think we should go looking for her?” I ask.
    But before anyone can answer, Papa comes in, stomping the snow off his boots and untying the long, woolly muffler Mama knit for him that is wrapped around his neck.
    â€œHello, hello, hello!” says Papa. Now he unbuttons his overcoat and shrugs it off. It seems like he is especially happy to be home.
    â€œHello, Papa,” I say. “There was a snow day today. No school.”
    â€œThat’s news!” Papa says. “But I have even bigger news.”
    â€œTell us,” I say.
    â€œI met with Mr. Greenfield today.”
    â€œWas it about Shannon?” I ask. Maybe Mr. Greenfield remembered her after all.
    â€œYes it was!” he exclaims. “Anna, Mr. Greenfield wants her for the store. He placed an order for fifty dolls. Fifty! Can you imagine?”
    â€œHe did?” I say. “I thought he wasn’t very interested.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought, too. But then after the holiday, he found the buckle from the satchel! It was on the floor in his office. It reminded him about Shannon, and he started thinking about what a good idea it would be to have a schoolgirl doll. We’re going to start making her right away. She’ll be in the store by late summer, in time for the new school year.”
    â€œThat’s wonderful, Papa!” I say.
    â€œI liked her right away,” says Sophie. “I knew she was special.” The admiring look in her eyes makes me feel very proud. And when Trudie breaks into her “happy dance,” I am so happy that I join in.
    â€œHe thinks she is going to be a big success.” Papa beams. “Now let’s go upstairs and tell Mama.” Papa bounds up the stairs and we follow.
    Mama has made stew for dinner, and as she is ladling it into the blue-and-white bowls, we talk about the new doll and all the exciting plans Mr. Greenfield has for her. It’s only when everyone has been served that Mama comments on Tania’s absence.
    â€œHave any of you girls seen her?”
    â€œNo, Mama,” I say. “We were just talking about that when Papa came home.” Now I feel guilty. In my excitement about Shannon, I forgot all about Tania.
    Mama gets up from the table and goes to the window. The snow, which had stopped for a few hours, has started falling again. “This is very strange,” she says. “She usually is the first one at the table.” And it’s true. Now that Tania no longer hoards food, she eats with real appetite.
    â€œCan we start?” Trudie asks. I am glad she asked. I’m worried about Tania, but all that time playing in the snow has made me very hungry.
    Mama hesitates and then says, “Yes, girls. Go ahead and eat.” We dig in, but Mama does not come back to the table right away. Instead, we hear her go into each of the other rooms, as well as the toilet in the hallway.
    â€œMaybe she went out,” says Mama when she returns to the kitchen alone.
    She goes to the rack of