The Glass Slipper Project (4 page)

At the sound of the doorbell, Mrs. Lyons sat back in her chair. She listened to the hushed voices down the hall, then closed her eyes as she heard Isabella’s footsteps approaching.

“How are you doing today?” Isabella asked in a bright cheery voice.

“I’m old and I’m sick. How do you expect me to be doing?”

“You’re not sick.”

Mrs. Lyons opened her eyes, sending a bright green gaze at the young woman. “You’re supposed to say I’m not old.”

“But then you would accuse me of lying.”

“Did you pick up the book?”

Isabella handed her an old volume of poems she’d loaned to Douglas Merchant, a widower trying to win the affections of the local beautician. She’d loaned him the book only a month ago and although she didn’t need it back, she liked having Isabella run errands for her. It made her feel important. She set the volume aside next to the cold cup of tea that had been sitting there for the past half hour.

“What should we read today?” Isabella went to the drawn curtains and pulled them aside, welcoming sunlight into the room. The sun’s rays spread across the gleaming Steinway piano, an oak bookcase lined with hardback books and little tea cups Mrs. Lyons liked to collect. She saw a dash of white and orange dart under the couch. “Hello Nicodemus,” she said.

Mrs. Lyons shielded her eyes from the brightness. “I don’t care what you read. Leave the curtains alone. The sun hurts my tired old eyes.”

“Your eyes are fine.”

Mrs. Lyons grumbled.

“You complain every time, but within five minutes you are always in a happier mood.”

“You’ve scared poor Nico.”

“He’ll come out eventually. He likes when I play the piano.” Isabella walked over to the bookshelf and ran a finger along the spine of the books. “Now let’s see…”

“I don’t feel like reading,” Mrs. Lyons said in a petulant tone.

“Perhaps I can play something for you.” Isabella sat at the piano and noticed a new little figurine: a bust modeled after Michelangelo’s David. “This is a beautiful sculpture. It must be from the early 20th century. I bet it costs a lot.”

She shrugged. “It wouldn’t fetch any more than fifteen hundred.”

Isabella stared at it impressed. “Oh.”

Mrs. Lyons watched her, a glint entering her green gaze. “If it were real.”

Isabella turned to her. “It’s a fake?”

“Of course it’s a fake. You must learn to develop your eye. A fine terracotta bust would gather some interest. But that,” she made a dismissive gesture, “is just a pretty thing of little merit. By now I thought your years with me would have helped you notice the difference.”

“I am trying to understand how to recognize antiques, Mrs. Lyons. I really love them.”

“Good. One should respect their elders. By the way, I’m planning my annual trip. This time I’ll spend two weeks in Italy along with my regular route. I missed it last year.”

“Italy?” Isabella said wistfully.

“Have you ever been?” Mrs. Lyons asked, knowing she had not.

Isabella ran her fingers lightly over the keys then began to play. Nicodemus came from under the couch, jumped up on the bench and began to purr. “No, I’ve never traveled outside the U.S.” She looked at her. “But I would love to.”

Mrs. Lyons saw the bright eagerness in the younger woman’s gaze and smiled slightly. She’d been hinting at traveling with her for years, perhaps this year she would take her along. “Yes, it would probably do you good. Now play me something festive.”

Hours later, Isabella prepared to leave. “The Saturday after next I must leave early.”

“Why?” Mrs. Lyons asked annoyed that there would be any change to her schedule.

“I’m attending a party at the Montpelier Mansion.”

“But I only get a few Saturdays out of you. Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and some Saturdays, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll make it up to you. There are plenty of Saturdays left.”

“I’m sure you’re eager to go, I suppose it’s to be expected. I forgot to ask you about the new owner of your home. Have you met him yet?”

“Yes.”

“Is it true it is one of the Carltons that used to live here?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Lyons raised her brows intrigued. “Interesting. David Carlton’s son has returned,” she said in quiet wonder then, “and how does it feel to lose your home to him?”

Isabella grabbed her coat. “I have a feeling you expect a certain answer to that.”

“Yes, I expect an honest one.”

She slipped her coat on. “I can honestly say I am relieved.”

“Has he told you his plans?”

“No, and I don’t see any reason why he would.”

“I’ve heard things you know. Not that I am into gossip, but it is interesting that they’ve decided to return
here
of all places.”

Isabella agreed, but didn’t want to continue the conversation. “I’d better go.”

“I’m sure your sisters are throwing themselves his way.”

Isabella stopped. “No, they are not.”

Mrs. Lyons’s gaze danced with delight. “They soon will. Just wait and see. Your mother would have insisted.”

“We don’t even know him.”

“He’s rich, attractive and devoted to his family. That’s enough.”

“Have you seen him?”

She flashed an enigmatic grin. “I’ve heard things. Of course, I may be wrong. If you would like to describe him for me, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your description of him is perfect.”

“So is he as handsome as his reputation would like us to believe?”

“I’m sure he is as handsome as he is rich.”

“Ah, then he must be very handsome indeed. Perhaps even you will find yourself throwing yourself in his path in order to catch his notice?”

Isabella buttoned up her coat. “No, I will not.”

“Don’t speak so soon. It may be a wasted effort, but it might be fun to try.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Lyons.” Isabella grabbed her gloves and left.

I
sabella marched down the front stairs annoyed that she’d allowed Mrs. Lyons to provoke her. What a ridiculous idea! She would never try to catch any man’s attention, let alone a young man with eyes as cold as a winter storm and intentions that no one knew. Alex Carlton may have the looks and the charm to make many a lady’s heart flutter, but she knew her good sense would keep her heart safe.

Isabella pulled on her gloves and stopped when a familiar burning scent drifted towards her. She turned the corner and saw Ms. Timmons taking a long drag on a cigarette. Her regularly rosy cheeks sunk in as she deeply inhaled. She had a flat face with round eyes like buttons on the face of a big rag doll and wispy brown hair streaked with gray. She heard Isabella’s footsteps and quickly waved the smoke away and stomped out the cigarette.

“It’s okay, Mabel, it’s only me.”

“Damn! I just wasted a good cigarette for no reason.” She glanced around then lit another one. She exhaled. “Did you leave her in a good mood?”

Isabella laughed. “Is that even possible?”

“I guess not.” She took another drag then exhaled. “How are your…” She waved her hand and bits of ash landed on Isabella’s coat. “You know.”

“Our new owners?”

Mabel nodded.

“They’re fine. They seem very nice.”

“It must be difficult having them in your house when they used to work there.”

“I don’t care who owns the house. I’m just glad it’s sold.”

Mabel didn’t hear her. “I would love to get rich and come back and buy this house right from under Mrs. Lyons. Could you imagine her face if she lost this house to me?”

“I’m sure —”

“You’re lucky your mother is dead.” She pointed, showering Isabella with more ash. “There’s no way she’d have allowed this to happen.”

Isabella tried to brush the ash from her coat without Mabel noticing. “She wouldn’t have had a choice.”

“I’ve heard he’s good-looking though.”

Isabella began to walk away. She was in no mood to hear about Alex’s good looks again. “I’d better go,” she said, leaving Mabel to enjoy her last cigarette.

That evening at dinner, Mariella whispered to Isabella as she ate her stuffed eggplant. Because Alex had decided to take his mother and sister out to dinner, only Gabby and Daniella were at the table, but she still wanted to be discreet. “Did you ask for a raise?”

“No,” Isabella said. “I told you I wasn’t going to.”

“Then I hope you’re working real hard on our dresses.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s obvious that making money will be left up to me.”

A few days later with the swift, cold descent of the northeastern winter months, matured trees stood tall and naked, while the evergreens endured a second snowfall and chilled breeze from off the Alleghany River. As evening settled over the house, Velma decided to take time to look around. She walked down the expansive oak staircase, her fingers touching the fine detailing at the top of each post. She remembered when she’d moved up and down the stairs at a faster pace.

At the end of the staircase, she turned to her right and entered the main floor study, and for a moment, she remembered the many times she met with Mr. Duvall to discuss her duties and pay. It was during these times that she had allowed herself to fantasize what it would be like to be the “lady of the house”.

As she walked from room to room, she felt an overwhelming feeling of pride. Alex had made her dream come true. She knew intuitively that once he had put his architectural expertise into the renovation and remodeling of the mansion that it would regain its grandeur.

She approached a small door off the kitchen and looked inside. She saw Isabella sitting at a sewing machine. The young woman was working on a peach satin dress with two gorgeously adorned dress forms standing by.

In her haste to see what Isabella was doing, she did not see the “Do Not Disturb” sign.

“These are lovely,” Velma said, bursting in unannounced. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Please don’t stop.” She went closer and touched the two displayed gowns.

Isabella glanced up from the sewing machine. “Yes, the blue is for Mariella, the peach for Gabby and the purple one is for Daniella.”

Velma looked at the gowns aware that one was missing. “Where is yours?”

“Oh, I’m not going.”

“But you must go. Alex gave you all tickets.”

“Lex, I mean, Alex, was being very generous. I doubt he will miss me.” She looked back at the dresses and sighed. “I didn’t do a very good job though. I need to do something more with the blue dress, but I don’t know what will work. Mariella will be devastated if she’s caught in something that someone might recognize as secondhand.”

“You’ve done very well, Isabella. You’ve remembered everything I taught you. But there’s always a chance to learn more. I’ll be right back.” Velma dashed out. A few minutes later, she returned with a sewing box filled with an assortment of fine lace, sequins, embroidered patches and expensive gold and silver trim.

Over the next three days, Isabella and Velma worked on transforming the dresses, which they planned to keep undercover until two days before the party. Knowing her sisters, Isabella made sure that the sign was on the door, and if both of them were not in the room, it was locked with a key. One evening, as they sewed on sequins, Velma turned to Isabella. “You must pick out something for yourself.”

“I don’t have the time.”

“Don’t your sisters want you to be there?”

“They’ll miss me, but once they are at the party, they won’t care anymore.”

“Alex is going to have a limo pick all of us up.”

“They will love it.”

For a moment, Velma saw the young girl with a wide grin who used to greet her when she came to work. Of the four sisters, she was the only one who seemed to notice her. Velma remembered Isabella had loved attending balls as a girl, swirling around in whatever dress Velma had made her. She thought Isabella must have the same hopes and wishes as all other young women, but it seemed that that young girl was very different to the woman she saw hunched over putting trim on one of the dresses. “Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to go?”

Isabella shrugged then said, “Why did you come back?”

“I wanted this house.”

She nodded then after a moment said, “Why did
he
come back?”

“To settle down.”

She glanced up. “Is that all?”

“That’s the reason he gave me. If you want to know the truth, you can ask him yourself.”

She shook her head then returned to her task. “It’s none of my business.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” Velma smiled when Isabella glanced up surprised. “I know Alex can come off a little…distant, but he really is a kind and generous man. Life has been a little unfair to him and that’s made him hard, but he’s still a good man.”

Isabella quickly nodded, knowing that Velma could be blinded by a mother’s love to the true nature of her son. “Of course he is. I’m sure the party will be wonderful.” She rested back in her chair and ran her hand over the delicate fabric. “I’m happy you bought this house. It means I’m finally going to be free of it. Free of it forever…” She stood and put the dress on the wire form.

“Won’t you miss it a little?”

“I have dreams I want to pursue. My sisters need the limos and parties to make them feel special. I don’t.”

“And what do you need?”

Isabella pretended not to hear her as she knelt in front of the dress and adjusted the hem, but Velma could have sworn that she heard her say “freedom.”

An hour later, Velma sat in her bedroom crouched over the phone.

“What do you mean she’s not coming?” Alex said on the other end. “She has to come. It wouldn’t look right.”

Velma covered her mouth over the receiver not wanting to be overhead. “She doesn’t have a dress.”

“Then buy her one.”

Velma smiled. “Yes, that’s what I thought you would say.”

The next day, Velma contacted a friend of hers who found the perfect dress and had it delivered the following day. Late that night, when she thought everyone had gone to bed, she put the dress on the fourth dress form and stared at it, pleased. She couldn’t wait to see Isabella’s face when she saw it.

Suddenly, the door burst open. “It’s perfect!”

Velma spun around and stared at Mariella. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” she snapped.

Mariella didn’t notice her as she moved — transfixed — toward the dress. “I knew Isabella would get the perfect dress for me.”

“Actually —”

“I know I wasn’t supposed to peek, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s gorgeous. It will look stunning on me.”

Velma walked up to her. “Mariella —”

“How should I wear my hair? I probably won’t need any jewelry.” She walked around the display with awe. She knew her sister could sew, but she had never seen anything so beautiful! It was a blue-gray shimmering fitted dress made out of silk and chiffon. The scooped neckline was decorated with tiny black sequins, with off-the-shoulder, fluffed mini-sleeves. The back of the dress fell softly over the shoulder creating tailored folds that were held together with covered sequined buttons. To finish off the look, the hem was scalloped and trimmed with black silver thread pulled up on the side with a high slit.

She looked up at her stunned sister standing in the doorway. “Oh, Izzy, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

Isabella glanced at Velma and stammered, “But I didn’t —”

“I have to go and choose my accessories.” She gave Isabella a quick peck on the cheek then dashed out the door.

Isabella folded her arms and sent Velma a knowing look. “Where did you get this?”

Velma’s shoulders drooped. “It’s meant for you.”

Isabella let her arms fall and smiled. “You mean
was.
”

“Just tell her —”

Isabella laughed. “Tell Mariella that she can’t have the dress? Have you ever seen Mariella in a temper?” She shook her head. “No, she will do the dress justice and I’ll wear the blue one. It seems you’ve accomplished your goal.” She winked, encouraging a smile out of Velma. “Now I have no excuse not to go.”

“Hold still,” Isabella scolded as she pinned Daniella’s neckline.

“I am holding still,” Daniella replied.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Gabby said checking herself in the full-length mirror.

Mariella shook her head. “She needs to loosen the fabric around your arms.”

“The sleeves are fine,” Gabby said.

“Yes, except your arms are fat.”

“They are not.”

“You should diet before the party.”

“She looks beautiful,” Isabella said.

Gabby lifted her chin. “Thank you.” She stared at her reflection running her hands down her wide hips. “Besides, men like a little meat.”

“To eat,” Mariella said. “Not to dance with.”

Gabby poked out her tongue.

“I don’t know why we have to get all dressed up now.” Daniella raised her eyes to the ceiling and groaned. “The party isn’t for two more days.”

“Everything has to be perfect,” Isabella explained. “We won’t have time the night of the party to fuss with details.”

“I still don’t —”

“I said hold still.”

Daniella clenched her jaw and did.

“What about your dress, Izzy?” Gabby said. “Do you need help with it?”

“My dress fits fine.”

“And my dress is the best of all,” Mariella said. “Which you’ll all find out when you see me in it. It’s going to be a perfect evening. I can just feel it.”

Two days later, Isabella wasn’t so sure.

“What do you mean you can’t stay the full time?” Mrs. Lyons demanded.

Isabella kept her voice level. “I told you several weeks ago that I would be going to the fundraiser at the Montpelier Mansion.”

“When did you tell me?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“I don’t remember.”

Isabella removed the tea tray. “Just because you don’t remember doesn’t mean I didn’t tell you.” Isabella disappeared into the kitchen then returned. “I’d better go.”

Mrs. Lyons looked at her closely to make sure she wasn’t lying about her activities. “I’m surprised you can afford to go.”

“We received an invitation,” she said ignoring the blatant hint that they wouldn’t have appropriate clothing to wear.

“Yes, I also received an invitation. I wish my health would allow me to attend. Well, I won’t keep you long then. I’m sure your sisters are waiting anxiously.”

“I told them to go ahead without me. Lex…um…Mr…uh…Alex hired a limo to take them.”

“That’s very nice of him.”

“Yes, but I’m sure they’ll be waiting for me by the door once they get there so I’d better go.” She walked towards the hall. “Goodbye.”

“Just bring me Nicodemus before you go.”

“He’s probably hiding.”

“But I want to see him. Just look in his favorite place for me.” She rang her bell and Ms. Timmons appeared. “Help us find Nicodemus.”

A half hour later Nicodemus still hadn’t been found. “Where could he be?” Mrs. Lyons asked, rubbing her hands together. She noticed the front door slightly ajar. “He’s escaped! He’s so clever with knobs.”

Isabella took a deep calming breath. “Mrs. Lyons I’m sure —”

She grabbed her coat and quickly buttoned it. “We must find him.”

“But —”

“Do you think your party is more important than my darling cat?”

Yes.
“He always finds his way home.”

“But it’s dark and cold. He’s not used to this weather.”

“He’s lived here all his life. Besides it will be nearly impossible to find him.” Isabella’s words were lost as Mrs. Lyons walked outside.

“You might as well go after her,” Ms. Timmons said slowly putting on her own coat.

Isabella gripped her hands into fists then followed her employer into the cold, dark evening lit only with the strips of orange light from the descending sun. Blasted cat! She searched the grounds calling out his name, her boots sinking into the mud and snow. After another twenty-minute search she went inside determined to leave.

“Mrs. Lyons, you’ll just have to wait…” She stopped when she saw Mrs. Lyons sitting in the living room feeding Nicodemus a piece of tuna on the end of a fork as he sat purring on her lap. “I found him hiding under the bed. Go have fun at your little party.” She waved her away.