Danielle: Part Two

The night of the ball was a dizzying flurry of activity and colors, people shouting and scurrying about, all without a second of peace. Gretchen had made an unfortunate choice with a spray on tan, and I was left to my own devices in dressing myself while my mother spent all of her energy trying to make Gretchen look less like a pumpkin. I would have gone mad if Cindy hadn’t graciously lent a helping hand.

After Cindy had helped me into my sleek pink ball gown, I turned to her with an ancient question on my lips.

“Cindy,” I asked quietly, “why do you put up with Gretchen and Mother and all of the crap they make you do? Why don’t you just tell Brian or run away? You can’t possibly be happy.”

Cindy took a long pause before answering. She drew a breath and looked at me with an expression of resigned sadness.

“My father loves you and Gretchen and Cecelia very much,” she started slowly, “but I am all he has left to remember my mother by. She was the love of his life, you know,” she added with a hint of pride in her voice. I nodded.

“If I were to leave, or to tell him how Cecelia treats me, it would break his heart. I don’t want to disappoint him like that.”

I nodded slowly, suddenly very aware of how similar my step-sister and I were. We were both desperate not to disappoint the ones we loved, even if it meant sacrificing our own happiness. We were living for other people and denying ourselves the right to be happy, and in that one moment of perfect clarity, wrapped in pink silk and seeing my dull future play out in my head, I realized that was no way to live.

“I think I understand,” I said to Cindy, sitting down on my bed to put on my shoes, “but I don’t think I agree. You spend all of your time being miserable so your father can be blissfully ignorant. It’s a noble gesture, but where does it leave you?”

“I- I don’t know,” Cindy replied quietly. She stared at the floor for a long moment, deep in thought.

“You need to do something for yourself,” I said, “we both do.”

We were quiet then, both of us lost in our thoughts. We were on the verge of having one of those meaningful bonding moments that they always show in movies and fairy tales when the Witch burst into the room, a mess of red fabric and sequins, and raging mad.

“Cindy! Where did you put my pearls? I can’t find them anywhere!” she screamed. “You can’t expect me to meet the prince without my pearls! Find them for me!”

Cindy left the room without a word and my mother turned to me.

“Stand up,” she ordered. I obeyed and she surveyed my appearance. “Well,” she said when she had inspected me thoroughly, “at least I have one daughter I can count on. Don’t disappoint me, Danielle.”

“Of course not, Mother,” I replied, though I was afraid that disappointing her was exactly what I was going to have to do.

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That night, as we made our way to the car, I had my purse clutched in one hand, and a small square of stationary in the other. When Connor took my hand to help me into the car, I pressed the note into his palm.

"After the ball," the note read in my messy scrawl. "I'm finished with ball gowns and princes and this fake life I'm living. Let's go."

******************************************

The ball was dull, to say the least. It was a dog show, a long line of hopeful, naïve girls in pretty dresses prancing around for the bored prince. My mother fretted over Gretchen and me endlessly, reminding us over and over to curtsy and bat our eyelashes when presented to His Highness. I was relieved when my turn was over and I was left to sit alone, looking ladylike and demure, counting down the minutes until the end of the ball, until I was back in Connor’s arms, until my life truly began.

I didn’t know what was happening at first. There was a collective gasp from the congregation on the dance floor, and everything seemed to slow down. As she descended the grand marble staircase, the prince dropped the hand of the maiden he was being introduced to and moved towards her without seeming to think. He bowed to her in a way only a prince could, and promptly swept her off her feet. I practically heard my mother’s jaw hit the floor and the disappointed sigh of a hundred hopeful bachelorettes resigning themselves to the lives as spouses of congressmen and merchants.

There was no doubt in my mind –or anyone else’s- that she was the one. He didn’t take his eyes off of her, and for that I was glad. I didn’t stand a chance, and it would seem that the road was clear for me to run away with Connor. I really felt like things were finally going my way, and nothing was going to ruin it.

******************************************

It was one o’clock before the ball ended, and at two thirty, I was sitting in the kitchen with my bag packed and my hair tied back in a loose ponytail, trying to work up the nerve to walk out of the house for good. I was pacing in my mind, trying to keep my breathing under control and my nerves calm. It was three steps to the door, but it might as well have been a thousand miles.
The door opened with a soft moan, threatening to disturb the peace of the house. It was dark, and I heard the quiet shuffling of someone removing their shoes and shrugging out of their coat. But the sounds were all wrong, too dainty and light, it definitely wasn’t Connor.

I almost panicked. Who could be sneaking into the house at this time of night? I looked around for something to protect myself with, and came up with a rolling pin. I was just raising it over my head when the intruder made herself visible.

“Cindy?” I asked, astonished. I lowered the rolling pin and looked at her. Her hair was a mess and her simple black skirt torn in a few places. She was flushed and out of breath, as if she had been running. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, eying my luggage, “going somewhere?”

“Connor and I are leaving,” I said simply. She raised an eyebrow at the name, but didn’t ask any questions. “Your turn.”

“I was doing something for myself,” she answered, offering no explanation.

“And that includes a magical midnight run in the woods?” I asked.

She shook her head and smiled at me almost sadly, sighing. “There is no magic, Dani,” she said quietly, brushing my hair back from my face in a very sisterly sort of way.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. She had always seemed so hopeful and optimistic; this quiet, submissive way of speaking wasn’t anything like her.

“Just trust me, Dani,” she said, “nothing is for good. It can all just disappear.”

“I don’t think I understand,” I said cautiously, not sure where she was going with this.

She shook her head, trying to grab hold of another way to convey her message.

“Do you love Connor?”

“Yes,” I breathed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, with all my heart.”

“Then just go,” she said, “get out of here now, before the magic fades. Go before you change your mind or lose your nerve or let life interfere. Just go.”

I nodded again, unable to find words. Had I been able to, they would have come out shaky and jumbled, rushing to escape my lips. I stood slowly, my legs feeling extremely weak, my knees knocking together, and managed a weak smile in Cindy’s direction. I pulled my bag over my shoulder and looked back at her one last time.

“Go,” she mouthed, encouraging me. I pulled her into a tight embrace and whispered in her ear.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” I said, “I hope you get your fairy tale.”

“You too,” she replied, pulling away.

I wasn’t sure, but the way the moonlight shone through the open window and struck her face just so, I almost thought I could see tears shining in her eyes.
We would both get our fairy tales, I was sure of it. My Prince Charming was waiting for me out in the garage in his beat up old Mustang, and hers was inevitably on his way. How could he not be with the way he had looked at her that night? We were both going to get our happily ever afters. I could just feel it.

The End