I stared at her with wide eyes. How could she even propose such a thing?
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I suggested you wear a bathing suit . . . yet.” She giggled.
Abby returned carrying brown shoes with giant heels. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Dorothy said to her. “Now go downstairs and eat some breakfast. We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Okay.” Abby gave me a quick smile and left.
Dorothy closed the door and turned to me. “Let me help you with your dress. I know from experience you’ll need help with your corset.”
“You’re not suggesting I not wear my corset, are you?”
“Not at all. I know you’ve been accustomed to wearing that awful thing your whole life.”
She moved behind me to help me undress. “Even though we don’t wear corsets in Idaho, thank goodness, no one will know you’ve got that old-fashioned, uncomfortable thing on under your clothes.”
Even with a million questions in my head, I couldn’t seem to single one out to ask, so I just stood there, letting her assist me. Her hands moved quickly as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
Once my own dress was off, Dorothy helped me put on Abby’s. “You’re a little taller than she is, so the dress will be a little short, but I think it will work.”
I looked down at my bare legs. As I had guessed earlier, the gown barely covered my knees.
Dorothy must’ve seen my panic. “Put on the boots,” she suggested. “They will cover your ankles.”
With the dark-blue sweater over my shoulders, the brown belt around my waist, and the awkward boots on my feet, I did feel a little better. The only skin showing was between the middle of my calf and just below the knee.
Dorothy pointed to my head. “We’d better do something about this.”
I reached up to touch my messy hair.
“Sit on the bed and I’ll brush it.”
I obeyed, soon relaxing under Dorothy’s gentle strokes. My eyes began to close against the rhythmic pull on my scalp. “You have such beautiful hair like your mother’s,” she commented.
“Thank you.”
I pictured my mom’s hair. As I child, I would sneak into her bedchamber in the morning to watch her brush her long golden hair. Besides the occasional trim, she never cut it. When she unbraided it and brushed it out each day, it reached to the floor. My dad said it would be a shame to ruin something so exquisite, so Mom never cut it. Other than brushing her hair out in the mornings, she always properly wore it up. Likewise, my hair was braided and twisted into a bun, just as a princess’s hair should be. Except for special occasions like a ball, when some of it could be left down.
Dorothy’s voice brought me out of my reverie. “All done.”
In the mirror, I saw my hair hanging loose down to my waist. “Aren’t you going to put it up?”
“I think you’ll find it more comfortable down.”
“But I never leave it down.”
“In Idaho, girls your age don’t usually wear their hair in a bun. Trust me when I say you’ll feel more comfortable with it loose.”
Oh, blessed day! What have I gotten myself into? First, being asked to wear pants, then to show my ankles, and now forced to leave my hair down.
“Do you think it is wise for me to go out in public and go to school? Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed hidden?” The truth was I wasn’t ready to be seen dressed like this.
“The best thing for you is to blend in,” Dorothy said. “We don’t want anyone to suspect a thing. Besides, it’s Friday and you’ll only have to go to school one day before the weekend.”
“All right, if that’s what you think is best.”
“It’s time to go.” She guided me out the door and down the stairs.
When we reached the bottom step, a knock sounded at the front door. “Now, who could that be?” Dorothy mumbled before she opened it.
Leery of meeting anybody new, I quickly moved behind the door so the person couldn’t see me.
Dorothy sighed. “Mr. Haney, why are you bothering me this morning?”
“Now, now, Dorothy,” the man spoke in a low tone. “You know why I’m here. It’s the last day of the month.”
“How convenient of you to arrive right after Hank left for work,” she said sarcastically.
Mr. Haney laughed. “I was taking my boys to school and thought I’d see if your daughter needed a ride too. I figured since I was here, I’d collect what you owe me and save you a trip.”
“The girls don’t need a ride to school, and my husband will bring you the rent money today.” Dorothy began to close the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Haney.”
His hand shot out to prevent the door from shutting. “That’s right. Nate told me about a pretty little girl he met last night.”
What did Nate say about me? I wondered. I’d thought he found me irritating.
“Yes, a daughter of a friend is visiting us,” Dorothy said.
“We’d love to meet her.”
After a long pause, Dorothy motioned for me to come out from behind the door. The tall, nearly bald man wore strange trousers, and a dirty shirt with buttons down the front. When he smiled at me, his cracked lips parted to reveal yellow teeth. For some reason, he made me uncomfortable. Maybe it was the way he looked at me like I was a flower waiting to be plucked, or maybe it was how rudely he had spoken to Dorothy.
When I saw Nate standing off to the side with another boy, I forgot where I was and probably wouldn’t have remembered my own name. If I thought Nate was handsome last night, in the daylight he was completely stunning. His light-brown eyes and wavy hair were the color of the caramel sauce I liked to drizzle on my favorite chocolate cake. His muscles bulged under the white shirt that emphasized his tan skin. This was no pampered palace boy like I was used to. Nate obviously knew how to work hard.
Blessed day! I could gaze at him forever.
He caught me staring and grinned. He winked as if he could read my thoughts.
Oh dear! My cheeks burned in embarrassment. Helplessly I wished my fair skin would hide my blush.
Averting my eyes, I looked again at the giant of a man standing at the door. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Haney,” I replied, refraining from curtsying.
He tipped his head. “The pleasure is all mine. It’s refreshing to meet someone with proper manners, as opposed to Dorothy’s unfriendly nature.”
“Danielle is blind to your evil lure,” Dorothy said. “Give her time and she’ll learn the truth.”
“I’m glad to know you think so highly of me, Dorothy.”
Mr. Haney moved to the side and motioned to Nate and the other boy. “Danielle, you’ve already met Nate, but let me introduce you to my oldest son, Troy.”
He looked up briefly and smiled shyly. He was cute in a boyish, sweet-brother kind of way.
Last night Nate had given me nothing but grief. So why did my eyes betray me and glance at him again? He didn’t deserve it, even if he did look good in his close-fitting pants and white shirt. Oh, and I loved the way his smile hitched a little higher on one side.
Dani, stop! I told myself. I’d be in trouble if I kept having thoughts like that.
“It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” Mr. Haney said.
I smiled at him.
He tipped his head to Dorothy. “Goodbye. Tell Hank I’ll be by later.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Haney. I’ll tell him.” She closed the door and turned around. “I wish I could strangle that man.”
“Why do you owe him money?” I asked.
“He owns all the houses on this street. We used to live in Aunt Em’s home, but it was ruined by a tornado a few years back. Hank and I struggled to make ends meet and couldn’t afford to purchase another place, so we had to rent a house. This was the cheapest one we could find.”
Abby joined us. “Is he gone?”
“Too bad you were hiding in the kitchen. He brought Nate and Troy,” Dorothy said.<
br />
“Both of them?” Abby excitedly peeked out the window.
“They’re gone by now,” her mom said.
Abby sighed. “I can’t believe I missed them.”
“Well, I can’t believe we’ve lived in this house and paid rent to that man for so many years,” Dorothy said. “One day we’ll buy a little farm and have a place of our own.”
“Yes, Mom, tell us all about your dream of being a farmer’s wife and raising chickens like you did when you were little. It’s not like I’ve heard it before.”
“Mark my words, one day I’ll have my wish and live on a farm and not have to give my money to that greedy giant.”
I couldn’t help but giggle along with Abby when Dorothy spit out the word “giant.”
“You girls better eat your breakfast or you’ll be late for school.” Dorothy pushed us to the kitchen and gave us each a plate of what she called waffles. They looked a little like bread, and when I took a bite, I smiled at the sweet taste.
I was starting to like this place. Learning about new things would be good for me. At least I would keep telling myself that.
My conviction almost worked . . . until I followed Abby outside and saw what she called a car.
Chapter 6
Another Unanswered Question from My Childhood:
How Did My Parents First Meet Jack’s Mom?
“Danielle, this is Gretel Atwood and her son Jack,” my mom said. I curtsied to the servant and her squirmy son, who looked about my age. I was six at the time. “They’ll be working in the castle,” Mom continued, “and I’d like you to show Jack around.”
I looked at her in confusion. She wanted me to give a tour of the castle to a servant’s son?
“Gretel is a very dear friend of my family, so please treat her and Jack as such,” my mom commanded as only a queen could.
“Yes, Mother.” I curtsied. Without looking at the boy, I turned and walked down the hall.
Soon footsteps were at my side. “So, you’re Princess Danielle?” he asked. I nodded but kept up my hurried pace. “Somebody said you never leave the castle, but I don’t believe them,” Jack continued. “Do you have a nickname? Friends have nicknames, and we should be friends. Can I call you Dani?”
I stopped to stare at the boy. His smile was contagious, and I couldn’t resist smiling in return. I didn’t have many friends, so maybe I was desperate, but with his kindness and confidence, we soon became friends. And we were best friends forever after.
Going to High School in Idaho
I rode along in Abby’s strange vehicle, trying to keep the perfect posture of a princess. My mom always said, “While riding in a carriage, steady your stance with ankles crossed, and place your hands neatly in your lap.” But I soon decided those instructions did not apply when a carriage was traveling at such a high speed. Instead of resting my hands in my lap, I used them to grip the sides of my seat and hold on for dear life.
“You act like you’ve never been in a car before,” Abby said as she made a sharp turn around a corner.
My stomach churned. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten those waffle things after all.
“Danielle, are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick.”
I took a couple of deep breaths. “I’ll be fine. And please call me Dani, because all my friends do.”
Abby grinned. “Dani? I like it.”
I tried to sit up. It helped if I looked straight out the front window and ignored my protesting stomach.
“I don’t know if your mom told you, but I don’t get out much,” I explained.
“Well, we’ll have to change that.” Abby smiled. “Since you’ve officially called me your friend.”
I guess I did. How about that? I smiled in return.
A few minutes later, we approached a long building with a silver tin roof. “We’re here,” Abby announced. She drove closer and parked by a bunch of other vehicles.
I quickly exited the car, already dreading the ride home.
Abby got out and gestured toward the building. “Welcome to Shelley High School, home of the Russets.”
“What’s a russet?”
Abby nudged me with her elbow. “A potato, silly. Hence why the people of this town decided to build their high school as a replica of a large potato cellar.”
“Are you in earnest?”
“I know it’s crazy, but wait until you see our mascot. Living in a small town is the best.”
As Abby and I walked over to the school, a couple of boys passed us. One of them looked at me and said, “Hey, cowgirl.” Then he whistled.
My face grew warm. What did he just call me?
“Stay away from Brian,” Abby whispered. “He’s bad news.”
“Why did he call me a cowgirl?”
She looked at my feet. “It’s because of the boots.” When I looked at her with questioning eyes, she continued, “You’re wearing cowboy boots.”
“Do they make me look like a cow?”
Abby laughed hard and then covered her mouth. When she finally had herself under control, she said, “No, you definitely don’t look like a cow. They’re called cowboy boots because cowboys used to wear them in the Old West.”
“All right.” I wondered if I’d ever figure all of this out.
“Come on, cowgirl.” Abby pulled my arm. “We’re going to be late to class.”
Back in Fenmore Falls, I attended school in the castle. All my years of instruction were in the same classroom with the same dozen or so students, children whose families lived close to the castle. School here in Idaho was obviously a lot different.
Abby led me into the building and into a room called the office, where she introduced me to an elderly lady behind a desk. The woman said Dorothy had already called and arranged for me to be admitted to school, and that I would be accompanying Abby to all of her classes. Just as the lady handed me a couple of papers, a loud, piercing sound rang out overhead. I gasped and looked around frantically, but no one else in the room seemed disturbed.
Abby thanked the lady and grabbed my hand to pull me out of the room.
“What was that about? The school bell made you jump like your boots were on fire,” Abby commented as we started down a hallway. “My mom said you weren’t familiar with a lot of things around here, but I’m starting to wonder if you’re from a different planet.” Abby gave me a teasing grin.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve never been to a school like this.”
“Stick with me and you’ll be fine.”
I smiled at my new friend. “Thanks.”
People started disappearing behind the doors that lined the hall. Abby urged me into a noisy room filled with students. As we stepped through the doorway, they stopped talking and stared at us. To add to the awkwardness, I flinched as the school bell rang again.
“Take a look at that loser!” I didn’t see who said it, but several people snickered.
“Come on,” Abby told me, ignoring the chatter. We walked to the back row of desks. Struggling to ignore the eyes following my every movement, I was scared to even sit in fear of doing something wrong. People usually bowed in respect when I walked into a room, but here I felt mocked and humiliated.
Tears tingled behind my eyes. Don’t cry, Dani. Don’t cry.
“Hey, Princess,” came a voice from the seat next to me. I looked up just in time to see Nate’s crooked grin. “I was hoping to see you again. You clean up nice.” He sounded like he was actually trying to be polite.
My tears were instantly held at bay, and my heart almost melted like a puddle at his kind words. “Thanks.”
“We should celebrate,” he said.
“Celebrate?” Did I miss something? I looked over my shoulder at Abby, but she was busy getting a book out of her bag.
“We both said something and didn’t get in an argument about it,” Nate answered.
I couldn’t help but giggle. In five seconds flat, this guy had turned my misery into cheerfulness. The s
mile remained on my face until I noticed a brown-eyed girl scowling at me from two rows up. The other students had lost interest, but she was giving me a death glare.
“Good morning, class,” said a woman at the front of the room. She was around my mom’s age, maybe in her late fifties, but she was beautiful with bright-red lips and black hair. “We want to welcome a new student today.” She motioned toward me, and every head turned to the back of the room where I sat. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”
I stood up just like I would’ve in my school in Fenmore Falls. “My name is Danielle.”
The teacher smiled. “Welcome to Shelley High School, Danielle. I’m Ms. White. Hopefully you’ll catch on quickly since it’s still the first week of school.” She looked at the rest of the class. “Did everyone do their reading assignment last night?”
As I sat down again, several hands shot in the air. A few other students opened their colorful reading books.
Where are their writing tablets and chalk? What kind of school is this? I wondered.
“Very good,” the teacher said. “Who can tell me how we greet people in French?”
She pointed to a boy on the second row. “Bonjour,” he said.
“Excellent,” Ms. White replied. “What else could you add when you say hello? For example, what do we say in English besides hello? How about ‘Hello, how are you?’”
This time only a couple of students raised their hands. Ms. White called on a girl sitting on the front row, who stammered, “Uh, um . . . bonjour, comment vous?”
“Close, but not quite,” the teacher said. “Anyone else want to give it a try?”
I waited for another student to volunteer, but no one did. In my school at the castle, the whole class was penalized with an extra assignment if someone didn’t give the correct answer. So, here at Shelley High, I timidly raised my hand.
The teacher looked at me. “Yes? Would you like to answer the question, Danielle?”
I stood up. “If I was greeting someone in French, I’d say, ‘Bonjour,’ and then I would ask, ‘Comment allez-vous?’ which means ‘How are you?’ When you are conversing with someone in a language in which you’re not fluent, the biggest obstacle is that they speak too quickly. If that happens, say, ‘Parlez plus lentement, s’il vous plait.’ Or you could simply say, ‘Comment dit-on cela en Anglais?’ This would ask them to explain it in English.”
Finding Sleeping Beauty Page 4
