Cinderella's Shoes

by Shonna Slayton

  “How is your aunt Elsie?” Johnny asked. His muscles flexed as he pulled down a dusty box from the top shelf. He started sorting while Kate observed his square jaw, set in concentration. That one strong feature stood for everything she loved about him. He was dependable, focused, and somewhat unreadable. Okay, maybe she didn’t love that last part. She wished she could always tell what he was thinking. It would make her life so much easier.

  He set aside silver balls, white garland, and plastic snowflakes. Watching his hands, she wanted to reach out and hold them. Stare into his eyes behind those new glasses of his. Brush his dark brown hair across his forehead. “Is she adjusting to living in the hospital?” he asked.

  Kate blinked, embarrassed her mind had been wandering. Johnny had no idea how cute he looked in his characteristic white T-shirt and jeans. The time they had spent apart writing letters during wartime had been fun—she had a nice collection of missives showing their progression from friends to more-than-friends, but being together was way better. The butterflies in her stomach could attest to that. To think, they could have a complete conversation in one sitting instead of taking weeks to talk over something.

  “She was with us through most of it, and she loved the spectacle Princess Kolodenko made for her.”

  Kate sat beside the Christmas box and wrote down the items Johnny was pulling out. If she kept busy with him like this, she wouldn’t get caught daydreaming. He was all she wanted to think about lately.

  Neil, one of the older window dressers, came in and grabbed a bolt of shimmery fabric. “Oh, hello, Kate. I-Is your mother working today?” He nervously patted the top of the bolt, shaking loose the material.

  “Yes, she’s here until seven o’clock. Did you need something from Women’s Wear? I’ll run and get it for you.” She made for the door.

  “No, no. I don’t need anything from Women’s Wear. Just wanted to talk to your mom is all.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be going now.” He backed out of the room and took off.

  Was he blushing? Kate felt a pit in her stomach. “You don’t think he’s going to ask my mom on a date, do you?”

  Johnny shrugged, letting out a burst of air. “He might. Do you think she’ll say yes?”

  “No. My dad. She wouldn’t.” The pit in her stomach shifted. “I don’t think she would.” It had never occurred to her that Mom might start dating again. “We haven’t had any real confirmation about what happened to Dad. She can’t start seeing anyone. Can she?” Oh, this is bad. “What if Mom starts dating and then they find Dad?”

  “There comes a time when you have to move on—” Johnny started, but Kate stopped him.

  “No. I don’t want to talk about it. My brother is tracking down some leads. He’ll find something.”

  “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Kate, but short of finding Cinderella’s missing slippers, I don’t know how your brother will find anything new. It’s been—”

  Kate held up her hand. “It’s been too long. That’s what everyone keeps saying. But Mom and I can’t quite believe it. She still won’t look through Dad’s things that the army returned. She’s still hoping . . . Wait. Why would you mention the slippers?”

  Johnny looked sheepish. “That’s what those Burgosov men said. I know they were trying to trick you, but why would they come up with that particular lie? They didn’t seem like the brightest fellows, so maybe they let the truth slip out.”

  Kate leaned back and stared at the ceiling. That was exactly what she had been thinking. “Did I make a mistake?”

  “You followed your intuition, and it paid off. They didn’t have the slippers, and they didn’t know about your dad. Doesn’t mean the shoes aren’t real.”

  “I wish I could talk to them again.”

  “The guys in jail? You’re kidding, right? Why don’t you just ask Princess Kolodenko?”

  “I did, but she told me the shoes were lost to the family. The Burgosovs are the only ones who can help.”

  Johnny gaped at her. “Do you hear what you’re saying? You want to risk talking to those criminal brothers to get information on a pair of fairy-tale shoes that don’t belong to you, and whose owner seems to be satisfied that they’re gone. She’s not even looking for them, is she?”

  Princess Kolodenko didn’t have the need that Kate did. One of her granddaughters had died in the war, but they knew what happened to her. There was no mystery for them to solve. No need to risk anything. Kate raised her eyebrows in a look that she hoped said, Yes, it sounds foolish, but I’m going to do it anyway.

  Johnny laughed. “Anyone hearing us outside this room would think we were loony.”

  Kate smiled, and soon began laughing herself.

  Johnny sobered. He leaned forward and searched Kate’s eyes. “How do you think the shoes will help you find your dad? Didn’t the prince have to go door to door until he found Cinderella?”

  The last of the laughter floated out of Kate. “I don’t know. I thought maybe if I wore them, they would guide me to him.” She cringed. “Silly, right? But the dress is unusual. What if the shoes are, too? What if they do find people? I have this crazy connection to a fairy-tale family; I should be able to use it when I need help.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m in. Whatever you need me to do.”

  Kate relaxed. He didn’t think she was crazy, and he wanted to help. “Swell. First, I need to talk to the Burgosovs.” She shuddered when she said their name. She never thought she’d have to see them again, and she couldn’t believe she was initiating a meeting. “Do you think they’re still here?”

  “I know how to find out.” Johnny pulled a card from his wallet. Agent Gillespie’s business card.

  “You keep that with you?” Kate asked.

  He grinned. “It’s not every day you get an FBI card. Makes me feel like a spy.” He tucked the card back in his wallet. “I’ll call him after work.” He handed her the notebook and pen. “Ready for another box?”

  Kate flipped to a new page, ready to start recording inventory again. After they zipped through a few boxes, Johnny sat down beside Kate. “Dad and I aren’t taking the ship with the rest of the film crew. We’re flying out ahead of them this week. We’ll be at the Kolodenkos’ estate the same day we leave. Sure was nice of them to offer their place to us. Flying beats almost a week on the ocean, don’t you think?”

  What is it with boys and airplanes?

  “Floyd says there’s nothing like flying.” Kate refrained from voicing her thoughts about Johnny leaving early to work on his dad’s movie in Italy. And about the Italian girls so interested in the foreign American soldiers who helped liberate their country. Her brother, Floyd, had written several of his “sugar reports” about the girls he had met while serving over there. “And it will give you lots of time to tell your dad about school.”

  “Hmm. Right.”

  “You’ve got to talk to him soon. Our semester will be starting when you get back.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve tried bringing it up, but then the conversation goes another direction. He’s got big plans for me and my brother, and I don’t want to spoil it for him.”

  “He’s going to find out eventually. Like in September.”

  Johnny pulled out another box. “You know what should happen? You and Josie should audition for the movie in Italy. It’d be a snap for you.”

  He said it with a straight face, but the longer she studied his expression, the harder it was for him to contain his laughter. Finally he caved with a loud guffaw.

  Kate looked around for something to throw at him, settling on a mound of beanbags. She pelted him with one after another. “Nice, Johnny Day.”

  He protected his face with his arm, laughing.

  They had first met at an audition for one of his dad’s movies, and she had ended up sprawled on the floor, almost taking him down with her. She’d tried very hard to forget that day. Well, at least the embarrassing parts of that day. She met his gaze and it reminded her of looking into h
is eyes that first time. The connection was so striking she had felt like she was staring into Frank Sinatra’s baby blues. At first she hadn’t known he was the son of Wallace Day, owner of both the film production company and Harmon-Craig department store where she and her mother worked.

  “But Josie found out this week she is interning with a costume designer for the summer. Not even Miss I-Want-to-be-a-Star herself would give that up for a bit role in your dad’s latest film.”

  Johnny stopped laughing. “I’m serious. Then you could come with me.” He grinned. “You’re kind of growing on me.” He started repacking the box. “At least see me off at the airstrip? Then when no one is looking, I’ll sneak you aboard.”

  A summer in Italy? Kate was glad Johnny wasn’t looking at her as she struggled to keep a happy face for him. She didn’t know if she could visit the place where her father had gone missing in the war.

  “Besides, that way you won’t get too far ahead of me in your window design training,” Johnny added.

  “Ah!” Kate flung more beanbags at him. “You’re never serious.”

  He lunged for her, capturing both her hands in his strong grip while he pummeled her with beanbags.

  The door opened and in walked a pretty blonde, Fran Marshall, one of the store models. She quickly took in the scene of Kate and Johnny fighting over the beanbags. Her eyes narrowed at Kate before fixing on Johnny. “There you are. Your dad wants you in the meeting about our trip to Italy.” She smiled at him like he was the only one in the room.

  Fran Marshall was going? Kate raised her eyebrows, silently asking Johnny. He let go of her hands.

  “We’re in the conference room upstairs.” Fran crossed her arms and waited.

  “Don’t finish without me, Sparky,” Johnny said to Kate as he walked out the door with Fran.

  Despite Johnny’s using his nickname for her, which he only did when he was flirting, the insecure, jealous corner of her brain woke. Kate let the last beanbag fall. Why hadn’t he told her Fran was going? She must have a role in the movie. The last big thing Fran had done was the baking soda commercial. Out of sympathy, Kate’s mother had kept her in the store’s fashion shows. Not that Kate was jealous. Or worried. It was just Fran. She had bigger issues to worry about.

  But if she did go to Italy, she could spend her summer with Johnny and do her own research into Dad’s disappearance. It was unlikely she’d find anything the others hadn’t turned up, but at least she could say she tried everything to find him. And if she were able to find the glass slippers, she could do what no one else could.

  Chapter Three

  Johnny never did come back to the prop closet after his meeting. Kate waited past her scheduled work hours, but eventually gave up and went upstairs to let her mom, assistant manager in Women’s Wear, know that she was going home.

  “Did Neil find you?” she asked, studying her mom’s face for her reaction. She was wearing more makeup today than usual. A new shade of red lipstick.

  “Yes, he did. I’ll see you at home,” Mom answered, not giving anything away. She was holding several empty hangers and started for the back.

  “What did he want?” Kate followed her. And is that a new perfume, too?

  Mom waved her hand flippantly and kept walking. “To talk to me, not you. Quit being so nosy. I’ll see you at home.”

  Honestly. I only wanted to know for her own good.

  Back at home, she called Josie, who immediately came down from her own apartment upstairs.

  “Tell me again. Exactly what did Fran say, and how did Johnny look?” Josie tucked her feet under her on the sofa, balancing her plate of sliced peaches and toast on her lap. Her dark eyes focused on Kate.

  “She came in and snatched him up like she was his boss. He barely looked at me before toddling after her.”

  “And she said ‘our’ trip to Italy? As in, Fran Marshall is going with the movie crew?”

  “She must be one of the actresses.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Josie jutted her arm in the air. “For one, I’m Italian and I’ve never been to Italy. Two, I should be in the movie. After all, now I’ve got connections, right? With you and Johnny. Could he get me on the movie?”

  Kate gave Josie a horrified look. “He teased me about auditioning, but I can’t ask him that. Remember when I found out he worked for his dad? He accused me of trying to use him to get into that movie I auditioned for.”

  Josie slumped back into the cushions. “It’s not like my parents would let me anyway. I’m lucky Mom convinced Dad I could switch schools to study fashion design. Interning with Bonnie Cashin this fall is good enough for me. I don’t need to be in a movie—I’m going to help design costumes. Though I’d do a better acting job than that Fran. Aargh. I can’t believe it.”

  Kate smiled. Good ol’ Josie. Voicing the exact thoughts Kate was thinking but too proper to say.

  “You’re not worried Fran is going to try to break up you and Johnny, are you?”

  “No.” Kate answered a little too quickly. Sitting alone in the prop room, that had been exactly what she was thinking. Fran had a way of claiming things that didn’t belong to her.

  Josie took her plate into the kitchen. “I’d better go. Mom wants me to help with dinner tonight.”

  As Kate stood in the doorway waving good-bye, a telegram boy was looking at the numbers on each door as he walked down the hallway. Goose bumps flecked her skin as she remembered the telegram they got during the war telling them that her father had gone missing while working with the Monuments Men in Italy.

  Her father, an art professor, had joined the army so he could help them avoid bombing any historically or artistically important sites. If he hadn’t gone missing, he might be part of the group her brother was with now, finding the proper homes for all the stolen artwork uncovered in salt mines and castles and ordinary people’s homes.

  Josie raised her eyebrows as the boy passed her and stopped in front of Kate.

  For a brief moment, Kate’s breath caught. Not Floyd. The war was over. He wasn’t involved in any fighting. He’d flown planes at the end of the war, but now he was mostly grounded, as there was a glut of pilots.

  “Kate Allen?” the boy said.

  “Uh, that’s me.” Kate took the telegram.

  Josie followed her back into the apartment. “What is it?” she asked.

  Before Kate had closed the door, she had torn into the envelope:

  Rome, Italy

  Kate Allen

  New York City, NY

  Dads box. Diamond

  —F

  Kate read the telegram twice. The first time in relief. Floyd is okay. The second time in confusion. She shook her head. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.” She showed it to Josie. “Sometimes Floyd can be so irritating.”

  “Do you think it’s code?”

  “Maybe. But the war’s over; their letters aren’t getting censored like they used to.”

  “Well, it’s got to be important. Your brother is too cheap to waste money on a telegram just to bug you.”

  “You’d be surprised what a brother would do. But okay. Let’s say it’s for real.” Kate marched into her mother’s room and dug through the hope chest. “Maybe the box my mom’s engagement ring came in? If she still has it, it would be in here, but that’s still not Dad’s box. Look, she did keep it.” Kate showed the small ring box to Josie. Empty.

  Josie pored over the telegram. “The initials spell DBD. Read it backward, it would say . . . nothing. If we took every second letter: DDBX, okay, not that. I give up,” Josie said. “I’d have made a terrible spy in the war.”

  “And if it’s for real, why send it to me instead of Mom?”

  “Maybe it’s a gift for your mom. He might have bought it ahead of time and told your brother to give it to her on their anniversary, not knowing when he’d be back from the war. How romantic,” Josie said, passing back the note. “Check his toolbox.”

  “Hmm. Maybe. It would b
e like Floyd to forget something like that.” Kate sighed. “You know I think Neil at the store asked my mom out?”

  “He’s one of the nice ones, isn’t he? Didn’t give you a hard time about helping in Windows like some of the other guys did.” Josie frowned. “I bet that feels weird for her. Did she say yes?”

  That wasn’t the reaction Kate was expecting from Josie. Her best friend was supposed to share her hope of Dad returning. Kate shrugged, masking her frustration. “She told me I was nosy.” “Concerned,” “worried,” or “angry” are better words.

  A lump formed in Kate’s throat as she dragged the rusted green toolbox out from behind the piles of shoes and forgotten mittens in the closet. Dad was the last person to have touched the box. Many of his other belongings had been packed up and taken down to storage. Mom must have thought they’d need the tools even though the super took care of the minor repairs in the apartment.

  She snapped the silver latch open and when she lifted the lid, the sliders on the corners squeaked in protest. Looking at the contents, Kate laughed. Nestled in with the hammer, various screwdrivers, and wrenches were artist’s brushes and tubes of paint. Anything could be in there.

  She poked around but didn’t see a jewelry case. At the bottom of the box were screws and bits of wire and various mechanical pieces whose function Kate could only guess at. “No diamonds.” She reread the telegram, as if new words could have formed.

  “Let me know what you find,” Josie said, retracing her earlier steps out the door. “My mom’ll be calling soon if I don’t get up there fast-veloce.”

  “Bye.” Kate dumped everything out of the toolbox. She took a cloth and wiped the inside clean, even stopping to examine the cloth to see if anything sparkly got swept up. Nothing.

  She carefully returned all the contents, organizing as she went. The tube of burnt umber had at one time spilled over the top, and her dad’s fingerprint was forever imprinted on the side. How strange to think he could be dead—going by what the army said—when here was his fingerprint. His identity. She slowly sucked in a breath, and then let it out. It was the little things that caught her heart by surprise.