“OH, MY GOD! You two,” Daisy exclaims, her eyes sparkling in gleeful appreciation. “YOU are such dolls.” She gives each girl a widely spaced hug and a brush on the cheek, being extra careful not to ruin their makeup or crumple their gowns.
“Mom, Annabelle is a doll. So is Chuckie. Be specific,” Nikki says in her usual droll humor, eliciting a chuckle from Andy and a half-hearted laugh from her mother, who is totally clueless about the sinister dolls. Her mother only watches soppy telenovelas, and reality shows chronicling the glamorous lives of privileged wives.
“You look like Barbies,” Daisy amends and walks them both through the door. Before she lets go of Nikki, Daisy slides her arms around her waist, unable to contain herself, and Nikki wraps her arms around her mom’s shoulders in re
