Something Old (22 page)

Katy touched the slinky black skirt and its matching top. “It’s gorgeous. Where did you get it?”

Lil colored slightly and shrugged. “I had to attend a formal affair at school. Try it on.”

“Oh I couldn’t. It’s way too glamorous. You know I’ve never worn anything like it. No,” Katy protested.

“Is that what you’re going to say on your wedding day? There are certain occasions when you need to raise the…ah, notch a bit. You don’t want them turning you away at the door, saying, ‘Sorry, ma’am, the performance hasn’t started yet. Cleanup starts at 11:30. Come back then and don’t forget your bucket.’”

Katy burst into laughter. “I was thinking the exact same thing.” She held the skirt in one hand and the hanger with the top in the other. It is modest, except for …” She hung the skirt up and examined the top closer. “I’ve never worn this type of neckline before.”

“It’s not a low neckline. Try it on.”

Katy faltered, wondering what it would feel like to wear the slinky expensive fabric against her skin. She was thankful the color was basic black. With her dark hair, she’d probably just fade into a shadowy corner somewhere. Yes, every eye would be on Addison, and this might help her maintain a respectability, the invisible air she sought when operating in the outsider’s realm. “All right.”

Lil helped her slip into the dress. “We need a full-length mirror in here.” Impulsively, she said, “I’m splurging on one this week. Then you’ll have it in time for the ballet. I’ll get Jake to install it. I’ve got an idea.” She left and then toted a kitchen chair to the bathroom. “Climb up on this so you can see yourself in the mirror.”

Katy’s pulse slammed in her throat when she saw herself. Her figure had transformed into a pleasing hourglass. But the formal attire also maintained a sophisticated modesty. Lil urged, “Hold your hair up.” With a nervous giggle, Katy piled her hair atop her head. It flopped to the side, smashing her covering, but she’d fix that later. “Some red lipstick and my black nylons and nobody will ever notice you,” her friend teased, reading her mind. “It really makes your eyes smolder.”

Ignoring the eye comment, for folks had always raved about her eyes, Katy whispered with awe, “It’ll be perfect.”

“Not quite.” Lil grabbed a fistful of material at the waist. “It needs just a little tailoring. And we definitely need to go shoe shopping.”

“Oh I don’t know. That looks too tight, doesn’t it? I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

“We can baste it, and we’ll remove it afterward.”

“Surely I have some shoes that will go?” But Katy’s voice trailed off for she knew she didn’t have anything worthy of the occasion.

“We’ll find you some shoes you can wear to church, too. And afterward, we’ll drive downtown and locate the theater and check out the parking situation. Forewarned, and all that.”

Feeling a catch in her throat, Katy climbed down and hugged Lil. “Thanks. You’re the best. This has just been eating at me, terrifying me. Maybe now I’ll be able to endure the whole experience.”

“And you won’t have to join the cleanup committee,” Lil added with a glint in her eyes.

Katy held Addison’s hand and stared at the scrolled billboard.
Cinderella.
“This is it,” she announced to Addison, feeling as if she’d swallowed a glass slipper. A street policeman standing on the corner raised his hand to stay the traffic, and Addison plunged them into a jostling, crowded crosswalk that whisked them directly in front of the Ohio Theatre. They took their place in line, and the touch of Addison’s enthusiastic hand was somewhat comforting. Everyone wore smiles and eager expressions, and she forced herself to feign a similar countenance for Addison’s sake.

But she didn’t have to pretend long. She was awestruck from the moment she stepped inside the marble entry and viewed the high, arched ceilings, gilded and frescoed, from which hung a huge stained-glass chandelier. Spanish Baroque architecture gave the theater a medieval flair, palatial in rich red and gold.

Its splendor was so breathtaking that Katy struggled for comportment, yet Addison took her surroundings in stride and suddenly jerked her hand away. “There’s Samantha,” she cried and dashed off toward another girl from her dance class.

With a gasp, Katy lunged, but only caught a satin sash that untied and slipped through her fingers, dragging on the ground behind Addison like a pink tail. Involuntarily, Katy clamped her teeth on her bottom lip and helplessly watched the two little girls separate to skirt an elderly couple and join together again laughing. Linking arms, they next burst through a group of teenage girls and vanished. In the blink of an eye, Addison had disappeared. Panic tamped up Katy’s spine. She vied to get another glimpse of Addison’s pink frothy outfit.

“Hey, Katy.”

Startled, she whipped her gaze around to the tall male figure clad in a plain black suit. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten about Jake.

His sister Erin smiled. “Hi Katy. This is my first time here. Great, isn’t it?”

Erin’s presence momentarily dazed Katy. But the dark-haired girl’s enthusiasm and winning smile reminded Katy of her manners. There was no excuse to be rude to Erin Byler just because of her brother, so she took just a moment to engage in some necessary small talk. Then Katy bit the corner of her mouth with frustration. “I lost Addison.”

“You want me to help you look?” Jake asked, lines of concern framing his eyes.

Considering that the lobby was filled with children and Jake didn’t know what Addison looked like, she wasn’t sure he’d be much help. “She’s wearing a pink frilly dress.”

Jake frowned. Half of the girls were clad in pink or princess outfits.

“What’s her name?” Erin asked.

Before Katy could answer the question, the youngster under discussion had returned and grabbed her by the waist. Without missing a beat, Addison urged, “Let’s go in.”

“Addison!” Katy clutched the girl’s hand. “Sweetie, wait. You need to calm down and stay with me. I met some friends.” She reeled her charge in and introduced her to Jake and Erin.

Erin bent down and began to tie Addison’s bow. “Are you a performer? Are you the dancer who is Cinderella?”

“No, but I take dance lessons.”

“Are you sure? You look like a princess.”

“That’s just because …”

“That was unnerving,” Katy whispered to Jake.

“I guess she didn’t lose you; that’s the important thing. Shall we go find our seats?”

“Ours?” Katy raised a brow.

He gave her his notorious lopsided grin. “We’re in the row behind you.”

Naturally. “So you admit to a conspiracy.”

“Yeah, that’s old news.” He touched her elbow. “Ready?”

With a nod, Katy tugged Addison’s hand. “Let’s go, sweetie.”

“I like Erin. She thinks I’m a princess.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Katy teased, and the little girl shrugged. Katy held tight so that she didn’t skip away again at the first glimpse of someone else from their dance troupe. All the while, her gaze took in the auditorium. More gilt and arches, even more elaborate than the lobby, a perfect fairy-tale setting. They found their seats, and Addison entertained herself by talking to her friend Samantha, who was seated next to her. Katy relaxed and stared overhead at the lighted, coffered ceiling and enormous, tiered chandelier.

Jake leaned forward and whispered, “It’s something else.”

“I think God must live here,” Katy replied.

Soon the lights dimmed, the curtains opened to an elaborate set. Amidst the magic lights and changing colors, a ragged-clad Cinderella appeared on stage, dancing with a broom. Instantly enthralled and swept into the performance, Katy laughed along with the children, enraptured with the ballet movements of the story. When the wicked stepsisters danced onto the stage in bright costumes, Addison whispered, “Look at their funny hats.”

In a mere twinkle, it seemed to Katy, it was intermission. “Can we get something?” Addison instantly begged, swinging Samantha’s hand.

Katy put off the question momentarily, standing to let others in their row pass. Meanwhile, Addison was skipping impatiently from toe to toe. Katy turned and glanced toward the lobby.

Erin offered, “I’ll take the girls. I need a drink myself.”

“All right, but stay with Erin,” she warned the children, and Addison nodded.

“You want something, too?” Jake asked.

“No thank you. I just want to sit and drink in the splendor.” Katy slid back into her seat and Jake climbed over the one next to her and plopped himself down in it. They shared an armrest and spoke about the performance and the costumes. She glanced down at the orchestra pit. “I was nervous about tonight.”

“That’s understandable. So how does this story end, anyway?”

She spent the next several minutes insisting that he had read far too few books in his childhood and spent too many hours getting into trouble.

At the end of the intermission, Addison squeezed into the row, stepping on Jake’s feet, and he reached out a hand to stay the little one. “Can I sit with Erin?” Addison asked. Katy drew in a ragged breath. Addison begged, “Please.”

“Me, too.” Samantha echoed.

With a shrug, Katy changed places with Erin and trailed Jake back to his row, sliding in beside him. And that’s when the afternoon really became enchanted. When the glittery carriage rolled onto the stage, pulled by white-wigged men wearing tights and doublets, she felt like she was living inside the fairy tale. Her shoulder pressed against her prince’s, she allowed her guard to melt away for one afternoon and indulged in what it might be like to be Cinderella, or at the very least, an outsider.

When the performance ended, Jake whispered, “We’ll walk you to your car.” Behind them, Erin kept up a charming dialogue with Addison. Katy was having too much fun to replace her guard. There was always tomorrow. She had until midnight before the spell ended. While Jake opened her door, Erin moved around the back of the car with Addison.

Jake whispered, “I wish this didn’t have to end.”

Her pulse quickened. She felt the same way, reluctant to ruin a magical afternoon.

He kept his voice low. “I know I don’t have any right to ask, but I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. To tell you my story. You did say I need to have more interest in stories with happy endings.”

“You’re twisting my words.”

“Please say yes.”

She started to protest. “No. I—”

But he wouldn’t have it. “It’s not a date. Just two old friends. We’re all dressed up.” He winked.

She didn’t want to remove Lil’s dress just yet.
Until midnight, and then I’ll get back to reality.
“All right. I need to take Addison home first.”

“I’ll drop Erin off at her dorm and pick you up at your castle, say around seven?”

She smiled. “Okay.”

Jake stood statue-like, watching Katy back her car out of its parking spot and steer it toward the garage exit. “Good job!” Erin exclaimed.

He let out a sigh. “I can’t believe she said yes. Did you see her, Erin? She’s so”—he shook his head unable to express his feelings—“and she’s giving me another chance.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I can’t believe it.”

“You’ve got it bad.”

He grinned. “I know.”

They walked past a row of cars and stepped into an elevator. “You think she considers this a date?” he asked.

Erin’s brows knit together. “What did you say to her?”

“I asked her to go to dinner”—he inwardly groaned as he recalled his exact words—“as two friends.”

“That was lame.”

He flashed Erin a frown. “It just popped out. While I was begging her.” Erin’s mouth gaped. “You begged, too?”

They stepped out of the elevator and went toward his truck. “I guess it’s not a date. But it’s a chance. She’s giving me a second chance, right?”

“When did you get so insecure?”

He reached out and ruffled her hair. “I’m not. Get in.” Erin wasn’t nearly as helpful as Lil, but his cousin had made it clear that she couldn’t help him with Katy anymore because Katy had forbidden it. He was on his own now.

They climbed into his truck, and he put the gears in reverse. Erin’s phone rang, and he tuned her conversation out, losing himself in his own thoughts. The ballet had been a new experience for him, and although he had mostly endured it, Katy had been the one enraptured.