The Glass Slipper Project (2 page)

“S
top complaining. It’s not that heavy.”

Alex sent his mother a mocking look. “Which is why I’m carrying it instead of you, correct?”

Velma gestured to her suitcase. “I’m carrying this, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” He set the trunk on a dolly and pulled it up the pathway. “It still weighs a ton.”

“It’s an important trunk and it’s antique.”

“Really?” He studied the trunk a moment. “I didn’t know you were that old.”

Velma gave her son a stern look, but didn’t reply.

“I could help you,” Sophia said as she struggled with two suitcases and a large handbag.

Alex looked at his sister’s slim build, her face barely visible with her blue knit hat low over her forehead and a matching scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face. “Thanks, Sugar, but this would flatten you.”

Alex’s assistant and friend, Tony, smiled at her as he dragged the second trunk, his limp exaggerated by the extra strain on his bad leg. “And that would be a shame.”

She lowered her gaze.

“We’re early,” Velma said. “Perhaps we should wait.”

The dolly bumped along the cracked pathway, nearly causing its contents to tilt. Alex grabbed the trunk before it toppled over. “I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“They may not be ready yet.”

“They’d better be because I’m not putting this thing back in the truck.”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t hire the movers.” Velma said, leaning on her suitcase to catch her breath.

He stopped and shook his head. “I thought you only had a few things.”

“Yes, two trunks and our bags.”

Alex glanced at the flat bed of his trunk, piled with their belongings. “Twenty bags.”

“Eight,” she corrected. “Stop exaggerating.”

“Are we going to take these things in or freeze out here?” Tony asked, his breathing clear in the brittle air.

Alex started walking again. “You’re right.”

“Just a minute,” Velma said. She turned to the house and clasped her hands together. “I want to look at it first.” She stared at the grand Victorian structure silhouetted by the distant sun and pale blue sky.

“You’ll have the rest of your life to look at it.” Alex passed her, hoisted the trunk up on his back and climbed the stairs of the wraparound porch. He set the trunk down with a hard thud.

Velma gritted her teeth. “Be careful.”

“I’m trying.”

She walked past him and raised her hand to knock. “Let me speak to them and explain why we’re a little early.”

Alex glanced upward, trying to remain patient. “You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s really cold out here,” Tony said, adjusting his muffler.

“I
want
to explain,” Velma said. “I don’t want them to think we have bad manners.”

“We’re only fifteen minutes early, they’ll be fine.”

“Real cold,” Tony said, pushing his ungloved hands deeper into his coat pockets.

“Still, I think I should explain,” Velma said. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” She raised her hand again and then stopped. “I wonder if they’ll recognize me,” she said growing anxious.

Alex slowly smiled, and said in a level voice, “If they do recognize you, they’d better be very nice or I’ll let them rent the house for just two months instead of six.”

“Wow,” Tony said a little louder. “It is
really
cold.”

“I’m sure they’ll be very nice,” Alex said and lifted his hand to knock.

Velma stepped in front of him. “I —”

He rested his hands on her shoulders and met her worried gaze. The anxiety in her eyes accentuated the fine lines and wrinkles on her brown face. He affectionately lifted her hat up from her forehead, exposing a few carefully prepared silver curls. “It’s our home now, they can’t look down on us.”

“But, I’m sure they’ll remember what our status was before,” she said, her voice reflecting the pain of their past.

“It will be okay.”

“Will one of you please knock on the door?” Sophia asked, looking ready to collapse under the weight of the bags. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, everything will be fine,” Velma said. She lifted her chin and rang the doorbell.

A stunning woman answered leaving them all speechless. She looked as though she belonged on a magazine cover: tall, brown like a gazelle with doe eyes, her sleek black hair, cut just below her chin. She stood in the doorway as though she expected flashbulbs to emerge from the bushes.

She smiled at them. “Hello, I’m Mariella. You must be Mrs. Carlton?”

“Yes,” Velma stammered.

She held out a beautifully tapered hand and Velma shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She looked at Sophia. “And you are?”

Sophia blinked quickly. “I’m…I’m…”

“That’s my daughter Sophia,” Velma said. She turned to Alex and Tony. “And this is…”

Mariella suddenly frowned, wrapping her hands around herself. “Brr, it’s freezing. You’d better come in and warm up. We have some nice hot cider in the kitchen.” She opened the door wider for them to pass through.

“Thank you,” Velma said, stepping inside the warm foyer where the scent of cinnamon lingered.

Alex and Tony picked up their trunks and followed. Mariella sent them a cool gaze. “No, you two are to go around the back.”

“But —” Velma began.

“It’s just around the corner. You can’t miss it.”

Velma shook her head. “Oh, you don’t understand…”

Mariella waved away her attempt at an explanation. “I’m sure these two men have been very helpful to you, but I’m not having slush and mud tracked into the foyer.” Mariella returned her clear, dark gaze to the two startled men. “You can leave the small bags here. When you go around to the other entrance, one of my sisters will direct you to the appropriate rooms.”

Velma tapped her on the shoulder, desperate to explain. “But —”

Mariella gently brushed her aside as she would a mosquito and continued to address the men. “When you are finished, you can meet us in the kitchen for refreshments.”

“You’re too kind,” Alex said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mariella didn’t notice and smiled as though he’d offered her a compliment. “You’re very welcome.”

“Ms. Duvall,” Sophia said in a small voice.

“You can call me Mariella.”

“Yes, well —”

“And I’ll call you Sophia, and I’m sure we’ll all get on well.”

Velma raised her hands helplessly. “But you don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Carlton,” Alex said in a low voice. “We’ll go around to the back and bring in everything else.”

“See? There’s no problem,” Mariella said. She turned and shut the door. An icicle fell and hit the ground with the force.

Alex stood and stared at the door for a long moment.

“Why didn’t you tell her you own the house?” Tony asked.

Alex lifted his trunk and headed down the stairs. “Because she’ll find out soon enough and regret this moment. I plan to make sure.”

The men walked around the house through the wet slush covering the path and finally reached a faded door that, at one time, had been a gleaming maroon. It was now a dirty brown and bowed. Alex set his trunk down and knocked. A young woman barely out of her teens answered. She widened her eyes in surprise looking like a sweet confection one would find at a carnival. She had dark curly hair that floated around her head as if it was soft cotton candy, her cheeks resembling caramel apples. She shook her head and smiled. “No, you don’t want this door. You want the next one.” She pointed.

Alex narrowed his eyes, feeling the edge of his patience beginning to fray. “Now Miss —”

“Don’t worry,” she said quickly. “It’s not far, only a few feet. My sister Gabby will open it for you.” She shut the door before he could reply. Another icicle fell, this time hitting him on the shoulder. Alex stared at the door and took a deep breath.

Tony picked up his trunk. “I’m beginning to hate this house.”

Alex lifted his trunk and walked in the direction she had pointed. They finally reached another door that was more than a
few
feet away, as the young woman had assured them. Alex pounded on it.

“There’s no need to get violent,” a woman said as she opened the door. For a moment the two men stared surprised that three such striking women could all be living in one residence. She tossed one thick braid over her shoulder with the casual grace of the upper class, and glared at them through dark brown eyes that could have melted steel.

Alex shifted his trunk. “Are you Gabby?”

She folded her arms, bringing notice to her ample figure. “Yes.”

“Where are we suppose to put these?”

“Let me show you to the rooms.”

Alex sighed with mounting dread. “It’s upstairs, isn’t it?”

She blinked. “How did you guess?”

“I’m having a bad day.”

“We have an old elevator.”

His spirits brightened. “Yes, that’s right. Does it work?”

“Of course.”

Ancient
may have been a better word to describe the elevator. It creaked and groaned and seemed to sway a little, but eventually reached the second floor. Gabby led them to the far end of the house on the north side where his mother and sister would stay. She pointed to one of the two rooms. “Put Mrs. Carlton’s things in there.”

“Gabby!” Someone called from below.

“Will you excuse me?” she said.

“Yes.”

She left. Tony watched her go. “My God.”

“What?”

“They’re beautiful. Didn’t you notice?”

“Just put the trunk in Sophia’s room,” Alex said, then headed into his mother’s room. He set the trunk down and glanced around the cream-colored room. He looked at the queen-sized wrought iron bed crowned with a carved wooden sculpture of a pot of flowers, draped with a pink coverlet piled high with vintage lace pillows. A large window offered a spectacular view of the front lawn and the long curving driveway.

A rare grin touched his mouth.
Home at last.
The house whispered to him sweetly, like the call of an old friend or a lover he wanted to caress and spend time with. Soon his dream would come true. He would no longer be an outsider. He belonged. He was no longer the poor kid on a bike riding home to another dinner of potatoes and beans. No longer was he standing outside the grand Duvall house looking in and seeing the excited silhouettes of the family gathered around the table for a dinner, knowing the cook had prepared a wonderful meal of succulent chicken stuffed with cheese and broccoli and rice pilaf with almonds.

Soon he’d have his own dinners here with his family gathered in the dining room. Soon he’d be an established figure in the community and everyone would be impressed with how he’d restored the house to its former glory, and the man he had become.

“So Alex,” Tony said a few moments later from the doorway.

Alex turned. “Yes?”

Tony looked around unimpressed, his gaze falling on the crooked desk lamp and worn molding. “
This
is the grand house you’ve been telling me about all these years?”

“You should have seen it years ago.”

“I agree.”

Alex shrugged unconcerned. “I know it’s a little run-down, but with the right attention it will look spectacular.”

“It will cost a lot of money.” He leaned against the doorframe. “But you don’t have to worry about that.”

Alex suddenly had a thought. “Let me show you something.” He walked down the corridor, with Tony not far behind, until he reached a narrow hall. He walked up a few steps and opened a door to a small room with an overhead landing for storage.

Tony glanced around nervously. “Should we be here?”

“They’re all downstairs. Stop worrying.”

“Actually, I think you should start,” a female voice said from somewhere above them.

Both men halted. Alex spun around. “Who is that?”

“You’ll find out once you tell me who you are.”

The men turned in a circle, trying to find out where the voice was coming from. “Where are you?”

The woman scrambled out of her hiding place then leaned over the small landing. “Who are you?”

Alex and Tony glanced up. The look of annoyance didn’t help her ordinary features, but both men were transfixed by the fire in her eyes. Slowly the look of annoyance melted into astonishment. “It can’t be.” She shook her head. “No, it’s not possible. I must be dreaming.”

Tony grinned. “If men like us fill your dreams, you must have a very uneasy sleep.”

She returned his grin — for a moment not looking ordinary at all — then bit her lip and set her gaze on Alex. He stood with a strange anticipation gripping him. Did she recognize him when none of the others had? Did he want her to? “But you look so much like…” She suddenly disappeared from view.

Tony looked at Alex confused. “Do you think she’s the crazy one they keep locked in the attic?”

Before Alex could reply the woman reappeared. She was much smaller than she’d appeared on the landing. Her hair hung limply, as did the long sleeves of her oversized cardigan that fell past her hands. Though there was nothing extraordinary about her face, both men couldn’t help but stare at the keen dark eyes. Then a slow smile spread over her lips and lit the brown in her eyes like a touch of honey on chocolate, and for a moment, she looked beautiful.

To Alex’s annoyance, unwarranted feelings of lust swept through him as he saw how joy altered her appearance. For a moment he wondered what other “joys” could do to those expressive eyes. He quickly brushed that thought aside.

She clapped her hands together. “It is you! Lex!”

Tony raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to comment on the nickname, but one look from Alex persuaded him to decide against it.

“I can’t believe it’s you.
You
bought the house?”

“Yes.”

She threw her arms around him and hugged him. For a moment he was enveloped by the smell of apples mingled with cinnamon as soft cotton brushed against his cheek. He was surprised she felt so thin under the bulky cardigan. For some reason that bothered him. He could lift her in his arms without much effort and had a strange urge to do so, but he was a man of tempered emotions and quickly checked himself, keeping her firmly on the ground.