If the Shoe Fits (Whatever After #2) (8 page)

T
he market has all kinds of cool stuff. Food, clothes, furniture, old people in puffy outfits. We set up on the ironing board. Jonah hangs a sign that says, C
INDERELLA’S
B
ROWNIES
! $1
EACH
!

I take out the marker and turn the
B
into a
C
. Much better.

The brownie-crownies look amazing. They smell amazing.

Only problem? We’ve sold:

Zero.

“Why is no one buying any?” Jonah whines, finishing off a brownie-crownie.

“Maybe they’re too expensive,” Cinderella says.

“Yes, but this way we don’t have to sell as many,” I say.

“Yes, but right now we’re not selling any,” she says. “If they cost less, more people will buy them.”

When did she get so business-savvy? “Fine. We’ll try selling them for fifty cents apiece.”

I change the sign to two for a dollar. It doesn’t help.

Do you know what’s also not helping? Jonah eating all the brownie-crownies.

“What time does the market close?” I ask.

“We have a few more hours,” Cinderella says. “We have to get home and make dinner.”

“At least we have dessert,” Jonah says.

One older woman comes up and sniffs at the table. “What are you selling?” she barks.

“Brownies!” Jonah says.

“Crownies!” I correct him. “Would you like to buy two? Only one dollar.”

“What’s a crownie?”

“It’s a yummy dessert!”

“No, thanks,” she says, and walks away.

“You don’t know what you’re missing!” Jonah calls out after her and helps himself to another brownie-crownie.

Wait a sec. “That’s the problem!”

“What is?” Jonah asks.

“They don’t know what a crownie is!” I say.

“No one knows what a crownie is,” Jonah says. “It’s not a real word.”

I ignore him. “They don’t know how good crownies are. We need to give them samples. That’s what you did to convince the parriage driver, right? It’ll work here, too!”

“You want us to give away crownies for free?” Cinderella asks eyes wide.

I nod. “Except not whole ones. We’ll cut them even smaller. Once people taste them, they’ll buy them! It’ll be like Whole Foods or Costco! I love when they give you samples. Jonah, you’ll go into the crowd and pass them out. Make sure to tell them that we’re selling them right here, okay?”

He salutes me. “Aye, aye, captain.”

I break some crownies into pieces, put them on a plate, and hand them to my brother. “And, Jonah —”

“Yeah?”

“No munching!”

We’ve given away a total of twenty crownies in samples. And we’ve sold ten crownies at fifty cents each. Meaning, we’ve made five dollars. Except we’re out ten dollars in merchandise.

“It’s better than nothing,” Cinderella says.

“True,” I say. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“What’s Rome?” she asks.

“You really need to get out more,” I say.

“I’m out of samples,” Jonah says, coming back to our booth.

“We definitely have more of those,” I say. “Wanna switch?”

“Sure,” he says.

I cut up the crownies into even smaller pieces and start walking down the rows. There’s a butcher selling meat. A couple selling silver necklaces that have a dangling green eye on them. A little bit creepy. Oh! A woman with red hair is selling seriously cute dresses for ten dollars! I wish I had money so I could get one. Right now I’m wearing one of Cinderella’s drab gray dresses. It’s kind of itchy. And about two sizes too big.

“Crownies!” I chant. “Come have a free crownie! A brand-new dessert like you’ve never had before! It’s a mix between a cookie and a cake! The chocolate will melt in your mouth! Goes great with a glass of milk!”

A few people take samples and I remind them to come by our booth.

“I’ll try one,” says a little freckled boy.

I hand him one and watch as his eyes widen with joy. “Delicious!” he says.

“Excuse me, would you like a tasty treat?” I offer a pregnant woman. “We’re selling them for fifty cents at our booth!”

“Absolutely,” she says. “Hey, these are amazing!”

I give her an extra one since she’s tasting for two.

“Excuse me, would you like to taste Cinderella’s Crownies?” I say to the back of a young woman’s head. “They’re delicious! They’re homemade! Come meet the baker!”

She turns around.

Her hair isn’t blond or brunette. It’s in the middle. And frizzy. Her eyes aren’t blue or green or sparkly or really big. They’re average. And her lips are kind of thin.

My jaw drops.

Her jaw drops.

It’s Kayla.

A
GHHHH!

The first thing I think is:
RUN, ABBY, RUN!

So I run.

I run past the redheaded dressmaker and the butcher.

Maybe she’ll think she imagined me? I run and duck and stop and hide behind a group of teenagers and then run some more. I don’t want to return to Cinderella’s Crownies in case Kayla is following me. I can’t lead her to the evidence!

I crouch to the ground behind a cookie booth to catch my breath. She’s probably not following me. She probably didn’t
even see me. And I ran really far. I definitely lost her. I’m a really good spy.

I stand up carefully. Mmm. Those cookies smell good. I wonder if I could trade a brownie sample for a chocolate chip cookie?

I look across the counter. Kayla is staring right at me.

“Hi, Abby,” she says.

It’s over. Kayla is going to tell her mother. They’ll drag us home and lock Cinderella and Jonah and me in the attic, and Cinderella’s Crownies will be over before it ever really began.

“What are you doing here?” Kayla demands. “What are Cinderella’s Crownies?”

“They’re … they’re …” I try to come up with some sort of lie, but instead I shove the plate under her nose. “Try one.”

She shrugs. Takes a bite. Chews. “Wow,” she says. “These are great! Crownies, they’re called?”

“Excuse me,” says the cookie lady. “Would you mind going to the other side of the counter? We’re selling cookies here, not cookie imitations. Please remove yourself from the premises.”

These are crownies, not cookie imitations, thank you very much. I walk around the counter to Kayla.

“Yup,” I say to Kayla. “Crownies.”

“And Cinderella made them?”

I nod.

“I’m impressed! And she’s selling them at the market?”

I hesitate but nod again.

“What for? Oh, I know. I bet she’s trying to make money so she can move out.”

My mouth drops open. “How did you know?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not easy living with my mom. And my sister’s no picnic, either. I should know.”

I can’t help but be surprised. “What do you mean? Don’t you like living with them?”

“I don’t have a choice. I can’t leave my mother and sister. But Cinderella can. She should. They treat her like a slave!”

“Um, she does your laundry, too. And makes your meals. And your bed. You kind of treat her like a slave, too.”

Her cheeks turn red. “I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t. I don’t mean to.” She sighs. “But you’re right. I do. Correction. I
did
.”

“I don’t understand. How have you only realized this now? It’s been going on for years!”

She sighs again. “This is going to sound strange, but something
unfair happened to me recently and it made me think about all the other unfair stuff that happens all the time.”

I wonder what she’s talking about. I guess she means what happened with the prince. “Unfair stuff happens all the time,” I say, “but what’s happening to Cinderella is super unfair.”

“I know.” She bites her lower lip. “How can I help?”

“You really want to help?” I want to believe her. I really do. But what if she’s setting us up?

“I really, really do,” she says, eyes wide.

“What about your mom and sister? Are they here?”

“No, it’s just me. They dropped me off. Told me I was moping too much. Told me to buy something to make me feel better. I picked up a new pair of shoes.” She motions to her satchel. “I’m taking the parriage back home later.”

I give her a long, hard stare. She seems earnest. I want to believe her, really I do. But I don’t want to be gullible. “Okay,” I say, finally. “You can help.”

I’ll give her a chance, but I’m still going to keep an extra-special eye on her.

Maybe I need one of those creepy green eye necklaces after all.

“Step right up, step right up!” Kayla hollers. “Cinderella’s crownies for sale!”

I can’t believe it — Kayla is selling Cinderella’s crownies. And she’s selling a lot of them. She’s a natural. She even bought a few for herself — for a dollar each! It was her idea to jack up the price back to a dollar.

Jonah and Cinderella almost had heart attacks when I brought Kayla over, but I vouched for her and so far so good.

It seems she really has changed. I do feel bad that she’s still pining for the prince. But Cinderella and the prince are meant-to-be. You can’t get in the way of meant-to-be.

I’m sad she’s sad, but I’m also happy she’s becoming a nicer person. Sometimes tough experiences change you for the better, I guess.

“Cinderella, your crownies are really amazing,” she says.

Cinderella flushes with pleasure. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I’m sorry I don’t say nice things more often. I’ve been the worst stepsister ever.”

“Well …” Cinderella hesitates.

“Yes,” I fill in for her. “You have been.”

“I’ve had it so easy and you’ve had it so tough,” Kayla says. “I’m sorry.”

I wonder if she’d still feel sorry if we told her the
whole
plan. All she knows is that we’re trying to raise a hundred dollars so Cinderella can move out. She has no idea that Cinderella wants to move out to prove to Farrah that she can rescue herself. No clue whatsoever that Cinderella wants to marry the prince, who just happens to be the guy Kayla is pining for.

“You haven’t had it
that
easy,” Cinderella says. “Your dad died when you were really little, and you have to share a room with Beatrice, who’s incredibly bossy. And your mom … well, your mom is really …”

“Mean?” I say.

Kayla snorts. “That’s the understatement of the year. She yells at puppies. What kind of a person yells at puppies? But at least I have my own money. My dad set up a big trust fund for me and my sister. I don’t have to rely on anyone for anything.”

“Still,” Cinderella says, “it must be tough being in your shoes.”

I look down at Kayla’s shoes. They’re black and shiny. They’re definitely nice. They’re also really big. Her feet are about twice the size of Cinderella’s. Even the swollen one.

No, the glass slipper is definitely not fitting on
her
foot.

“I need another crownie,” she says. “Here’s a dollar.”

I hand her an extra-chocolaty one. “Don’t worry,” I say. “This one’s our treat.”

E
ven though we sold most of our crownies, we only made thirty dollars. Then we had to use ten dollars of that money to buy more crownie ingredients, which only left us with twenty dollars’ profit.

Which means we have to go back to the market tomorrow morning and make eighty dollars. Which seems kind of impossible.

And we only have until noon at the latest.

Then I subtract the time it takes to get to and from the market, and I get really worried. “Do you think Farrah would meet us at the market at noon?” I ask.

Cinderella shakes her head. “She really seems to like chimneys and fireplaces.”

Long story short? That night, instead of sleeping, we bake.

Chocolate chip crownies, blondies — or
clondies
as we call them — and walnut crownies, even though Jonah keeps shaking his head in disapproval.

It’s a good thing I’m busy mixing ingredients all night, because there’s no way I can sleep. I’m way too nervous. What if our plan doesn’t work? Will Farrah think we failed our mission? Will she not help Cinderella? Will she not help Jonah and me get home?

We really have to get home. Technically it’s only been a few days in fairy tale land, so probably only a few hours have passed at home.

The key word here is
probably
.

What if I’m wrong? What if time is going faster at home? What if
days
have passed? Or what if Farrah doesn’t help us find the magic mirror that will lead us back to Smithville? Then what?

Then we’re stuck in Floom … forever.

It’s seven o’clock Tuesday morning. I’m navigating through the many booths at the market. Jonah and Cinderella have been here
since six. I stayed behind to wait for the last two batches of crownies to cool and to leave the stepfamily their breakfast.

But who knows what’ll happen when Betty wakes up and realizes we’re not there. We asked Kayla to tell her that we had some errands to run. I hope Kayla doesn’t change her mind and tell on us.

As we approach our booth, I feel an explosion of butterflies in my stomach. What if it’s slower than yesterday? What if no one buys anything? What if we can’t pull it off?

Wow, it’s really busy here today. Look at that booth near the entrance! They have a line. It snakes around the block.

I wonder what they’re selling?

As I step closer to the booth, I realize something amazing.

The people are standing in line for Cinderella’s Crownies.

By nine o’clock, we’ve sold forty crownies.

By ten, sixty-five.

By eleven-thirty, we’re sold out.

We’ve made a hundred and twenty dollars.

“You did it!” Jonah cheers, giving Cinderella a high five.

We actually had six crownies left, but we let ourselves have a snack. Of course, the six crownies left had walnuts. But that
didn’t stop Cinderella
and
Jonah from eating their share. I’m saving one of mine for later.

“
We
did it,” Cinderella says. “You guys are the best. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

That’s true, though technically she shouldn’t have had to do it at all. It’s because of us she hurt her foot. No need to remind her of that, though. “You’re going to be a princess!” I tell her instead.

Cinderella puts the money in an envelope, which I carry in one of the extra satchels.

We give each other a group victory hug and then run, run, run to catch the parriage.

The grandfather clock in the living room says 11:45 when we open Cinderella’s front door. We only have fifteen minutes left to call Farrah!

“Where have you been?” Betty snaps when we step inside. “The prince’s assistant is on his way and I had to prepare the tea myself!”

Oh, no. I don’t want to anger Betty. What if she somehow messes up the plan?

“We were at the market,” Cinderella says.

“Doing what?” Betty barks.

“Getting dinner.” It’s the truth. Cinderella bought a pot roast from the butcher for later. Betty has an account there, so she charged it.

Though if everything goes her way by the time dinner rolls around, she won’t be the one cooking it. She’ll be engaged to the prince.

Betty looks at her with suspicion.

“We just need to freshen up,” Cinderella says, “and then we’ll make lunch.”

“What
I
need is for you to finish preparing the tea and cakes for the prince’s people. I’ve just heard that they’re only a few houses away. They should be here within the hour. So you need to hurry. Beatrice and Kayla are making themselves presentable as we speak.”

“We’ll be right down,” Cinderella says cheerfully.

It’s 11:50.

Jonah and I run up the stairs while Cinderella hobbles up behind us. We pass Beatrice and Kayla’s room on the way. Their door is open, and I peek inside.

“Cinderella!” Beatrice yells. “I need your help!”

“Can’t now,” Cinderella says, giving Kayla a thumbs-up.

Then up to the attic we go. We close the door behind us.

Cinderella knocks on the chimney. “Farrah? Are you there?”

My heart races. I hope this works. It HAS to work.

There’s a burst of yellow sparkle. Here we go.