If the Shoe Fits (Whatever After #2) Read online

  Prince Jordan,” goatee guy says, “say hello to your bride.”

  No, no, no! We have to do something to stop this!

  Beatrice slides the right slipper onto her foot and does a little victory dance with her shoulders.

  Prince Jordan smiles as he approaches her. “Hello, um — who are you again?”

  Beatrice curtsies and then straightens up. “Beatrice.”

  “You’re much taller than I remember,” he says, sounding perplexed.

  “It’s your imagination,” Betty says. She’s stuck the wand behind her ear like a pencil. Is that any way to treat a wand? No, it is not.

  Kayla-rat scurries up the couch, jumps on her sister’s shoulder and tries to bite her.

  “Mom, we really need to get an exterminator in here,” Beatrice says tossing her sister to the ground.

  And we need to steal back the wand. I scurry across the room and assess the situation. A couch, a love seat, a fireplace, a chandelier, and a grandfather clock. I need to get at Betty from above if I want to snatch the wand. If I can somehow make it to the chandelier, maybe I can jump on her head? But how will I get to the chandelier? I’m pretty sure mice can’t fly.

  Still, if fairy tales have taught me anything, they can run up a clock. Like in “Hickory Dickory Dock”!

  Okay, so technically that’s a nursery rhyme, but it’s still worth a shot.

  I can do this. I scurry over to the ledge at the bottom of the clock and dig right in. This is easier than I thought. I use my itty-bitty nails to claw and climb to the top in just a matter of seconds. Ha! And they say time flies.

  Except here I am, perched on top of the clock. Now what?

  The chandelier is too far away for me to make the jump. What I really need is for Betty to take a few steps backward. Come on, Betty, move it!

  Jonah looks up and sees me. “Squeak?” he asks, which I interpret to mean, What are you doing up there?

  I’d squeak right back at him, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Instead, I try to use my little mouse-hands, pantomime style, to tell him what to do.

  So far I haven’t been successful with any of my hand gesturing, but this time we have liftoff. He seems to understand, because the next thing I know, he’s bashing himself against Betty’s shoe like a bumper car.

  She takes a step back. Go, Jonah, go!

  Bash!

  Step back.

  Almost there …

  Bash!

  Except she’s getting annoyed. She swings her foot back and — no! — kicks Jonah with the pointy toe of her shoe and sends him flying across the room. He somersaults through the air and lands in the fireplace.

  Hey, that’s my brother you’re kicking around!

  “Squeooonah!” I yell, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m flying, supermouse style, straight for the top of Betty’s head.

  Plunk.

  “What —” Betty says.

  Before she figures out what’s happening, I grab the wand with my pudgy little mouse-fingers and yank it from behind her ear.

  Now the wand and I are on a collision course with the ground.

  Ohmyohmyohmy!

  The floor is coming at me fast and I’m holding on tight to the wand.

  We land with a thud and a burst of sparkle.

  Yay!

  “Yes, we definitely need an exterminator,” Betty growls, reaching down for the wand, a terrifying expression on her face.

  No, no, no! She is not getting back this wand. I transfer it to my mouth and run, run, run toward lizard-Farrah, who’s currently helping mouse-Jonah out of the fireplace. He’s covered in ashes, but otherwise fine.

  “I’ll catch it,” goatee guy says, chasing after me.

  There’s a straight line from me to Farrah. All I have to do is run. Or, maybe scurry is the right word.

  “Just step on the thing,” Betty says, which chills my spine and sends me running even faster.

  But then — whoosh!

  My tail! Goatee guy has my tail! He’s picking me up by my tail!

  My feet are lifting in the air, and I realize I only have one shot. I harness all my energy and give the edge of the wand the strongest shove I can muster, sending it skidding across the room.

  “Is that mouse wearing a dress?” goatee guy asks.

  Betty is too busy running toward the wand to answer.

  I strain my neck to see the wand barrel toward Farrah and the fireplace. And … it makes it! She jumps on it!

  There’s a huge burst of yellow sparkle and Farrah stretches into her normal self.

  Goatee guy gasps and drops me, and once again I plummet to the ground. Ouch. I’m getting tired of all this plummeting.

  “Farrah, is that you?” Prince Jordan asks.

  “Hey, Jordy,” Farrah says. “Good to see you again. You’re looking well.” She holds the wand up in the air and spins around and around and around. A splatter of yellow sparkle flies around the room.

  Everything changes at once. I feel like I’m on that Tilt-A-Whirl again and I’m stretching, stretching, stretching until I look down at my legs and realize I’m no longer mouse-Abby.

  I’m person-Abby once again.

  Yay!

  Jonah and Cinderella have morphed back as well.

  Yay and yay again!

  And then there’s the sound of cracking glass.

  “OWWW!” Beatrice screams.

  Her feet have doubled in size, and the glass slippers have cracked right open because of the pressure.

  “This is not the girl I danced with,” says the prince. “I fear you’re trying to trick me. Our shoe doesn’t even fit, and neither does the other one! Come on, Gary, we’re leaving.”

  “No, wait!” Betty exclaims, a wild look in her eye. “I have another daughter you can marry. She’s running around here somewhere….”

  “Mother, I’m right here,” Kayla says, stretching back into her human form.

  “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Prince Jordan demands.

  “I’d be happy to,” I say. “You’re right. Beatrice is not the girl you danced with. Her mother stole Farrah’s wand, turned us all into animals, and zapped her daughter’s feet so they’d fit in the glass slippers.”

  “So then who do the shoes belong to?” His gaze falls on Kayla. “Is it you? I know you. We talked at the ball, right? You made me laugh.”

  She hesitates, but then shakes her head. “Yes, I did,” she says. “But no.” She kicks up her heel. “These tootsies are size nine. No way they’re squeezing into those teeny-sized shoes.”

  Prince Jordan’s face falls. “But then who —”

  “They’re Cinderella’s!” Jonah yells, pointing at her.

  He turns to her. “You?”

  Cinderella nods nervously.

  “Let me just repair the shoes with a zap and you’ll see for yourself,” Farrah says. She waves her wand toward the slippers, enveloping them in a burst of yellow. “There you go. Try them on, dear. You’ve earned it.”

  “But — but — but —” Beatrice stutters.

  “No buts,” I say. “Now please get out of Cinderella’s happy ending.”

  Beatrice lets out a loud humph, and then tries to follow her mother, who is slowly backing toward the door.

  “Why don’t you two hang around for a while?” Farrah says, and sends a sparkle-zap their way.

  They instantly shrink into two little birds. Two caged little birds. Two caged little birds in drab gray dresses.

  The prince turns to Cinderella. “Hi, again,” he says.

  “Hi, yourself,” she says softly.

  “Ready for the shoe test?”

  Cinderella sighs and takes a seat on the couch. She kicks off her loafers. “Let’s do this.”

  He picks up the first shoe and it slips perfectly onto her foot. He picks up the second and it does the same.

  “Hurray!” we all cheer. Jonah and I high-five.

  Farrah grins.

  Even Kayla
says, “Congratulations. I’m happy for the two of you.” But she has a sad look on her face.

  The prince takes Cinderella’s hand and pulls her to her feet. He crouches on one knee. “Cinderella, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Finally! It all worked out! The story can go on as planned! We saved the day!

  Cinderella looks at Prince Jordan and then at Kayla and then back at the prince and then back at Kayla and then down at her glass slippers. “Prince Jordan, I’m so sorry, but —” She takes a deep breath. “No.”

  Everyone gasps.

  Jonah tugs at my arm. “Abby, why did she say no? Isn’t she supposed to say yes?”

  “I don’t know!” I say. I really don’t. What happened here?

  Cinderella sits back down and pulls off the slippers. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Two days ago, there was nothing I wanted more than to marry you. I wanted you to rescue me. But since the ball, I got to stand on my own two feet and make my own money, and now everything is different. I love making crownies. I want my own place. And I don’t really love you … not the way Kayla does. You deserve someone who loves you for the right reasons. Everyone does.”

  We all look at the prince for his reaction. I kind of expect anger. Or bafflement. But what I see instead surprises me.

  He looks relieved.

  “To be honest,” he says, “it was my father who was so taken with you. Not that you’re not beautiful. You are. But I really enjoyed the time I spent with …” He turns to Kayla. “Excuse me, what’s your name again?”

  Kayla squeaks. Nope, she’s not a rat again, she’s just excited. “Kayla,” she finally sputters.

  He smiles at her. “I was secretly hoping the slipper would fit you, not Cinderella.” He looks at Cinderella. “No offense, okay?”

  “None taken,” she says.

  “This is wonderful,” Farrah says. “I’m so happy for you three!”

  It is a super-happy ending. Different from the original ending, but I like it anyway.

  Prince Jordan hesitates. “But … I’ve already made a royal proclamation that whoever fits the slipper will be the new princess. I can’t undo that.”

  No, no, no! They will have this happy ending! “Maybe you can’t undo it,” I say, “but I can.” I pick up both slippers and throw them hard against the brick fireplace, smashing them to smithereens. “Oops.”

  “Yay!” Jonah cheers. “No more slippers! I guess Kayla can’t try them on.”

  “You do know that I can fix them,” Farrah points out.

  We all stare at her, holding our collective breath.

  She smiles. “Of course, if I do, there’s no guarantee they’ll be the same size as before.”

  “In that case,” the prince says, “I’m officially declaring the slipper test invalid, since it’s so inaccurate.” He bends back down on one knee. “Kayla, will you do me the honor of being my bride?”

  “Yes,” she says as a tear trickles down her cheek.

  Hurray!

  “Isn’t it romantic?” goatee guy says. I notice that he’s gazing at Cinderella.

  “It is,” she answers him with a shy smile.

  “I really enjoyed your crownies,” he says. “I’m Gary, by the way.”

  “Thank you. I’m Cinderella”

  “I’ll have to come by your bakery and get some for myself.”

  “That would be lovely,” she says, and then … bats her eyelashes?

  Cinderella and Gary the Goatee Guy? Who would have thought?

  Farrah puts her arm on my shoulder. “I guess it’s time for you and your brother to go home now.”

  “Yes, please.” I say. “Can you tell us where the magic mirror is?”

  “Abby!” Jonah says. “Abby, I think —”

  “Not now, Jonah,” I say. “I’m trying to get us home.”

  “But, Abby —”

  “Jonah, please hold on. Farrah? The mirror?”

  Farrah shakes her head. “There is no magic mirror.”

  “Don’t say that.” My panic is rising. “Sure, I like it here in Floom, but we need to get home! I’m not even one hundred percent sure what time it is at home.”

  “Abby,” Jonah says a little more forcefully. “I know how we get home.”

  I turn to him. “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “The fireplace!”

  I look at the fireplace and then back at him. “Are you crazy?”

  “No! It’s true! When I fell into it, I’m pretty sure I heard it hiss.”

  “No way!” I say.

  I turn to Farrah for confirmation that my brother is crazy, but see that she’s nodding. “Way?” I ask her.

  “Way,” she says.

  “But how?”

  “Fairies can enchant different household objects and appliances. It doesn’t always have to be a mirror.”

  I stare at her, trying to comprehend what she’s saying. “Are you telling us that Maryrose is a fairy?”

  “Of course she’s a fairy! How else could she enchant your basement mirror? Didn’t she tell you she’s a fairy?”

  We shake our heads.

  “Oh. Oops. She’s very mysterious that Maryrose. So do you guys want to go home or what?”

  We both nod.

  “Let’s do it!” Farrah says. “I have places to be, you know.”

  “We may want to sweep up the fireplace first,” I say. “It’s covered in glass.”

  “I’ll do it!” Cinderella calls out.

  “Don’t worry,” Jonah says, going to get the broom. “I’ve got it.”

  We’re never getting out of here.

  When we’re ready, we give big good-bye hugs to Cinderella and Kayla and shake hands with Gary the Goatee Guy and Prince Jordan.

  “What are you going to do about Betty and Beatrice?” I ask Farrah.

  She frowns. “I suppose I’d better turn them back before they peck each other to death. But it’s your call, Kayla.”

  “All right,” Kayla says. “Turn them back. But in about an hour or so. You can do it remotely, right? By then Cinderella and I will be long gone. They are definitely not moving to the palace with me.” She turns to Cinderella. “You don’t mind if I crash at your new digs until the wedding, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Cinderella says.

  “I’ll do the cleaning,” Kayla says.

  “I’ll do the cooking,” Cinderella says. “Ever since my mouse experience, I’m kind of craving mac and cheese. Or a four-cheese pizza. And cheese and crackers. Pretty much anything with cheese.”

  “So what do we do?” Jonah asks Farrah. “Should I knock?”

  “No need,” Farrah says. “We know you’re there. Both of you crouch inside and tell me when you’re ready.”

  We wave good-bye and squat in the fireplace. I notice there’s a fairy — with wings — carved into the stone. Didn’t the magic mirror at Snow’s have that, too?

  “We’re ready!” Jonah says.

  There’s a burst of yellow sparkle and the next thing I know, we’re zoom, zoom, zooming up the chimney.

  We pop right up the chimney and pop out of our basement mirror.

  “Ow,” I say. “That hurt. You okay?”

  Jonah is already hopping on his feet. “I’m great. That was so much fun! Can we go back?”

  “Now?”

  “I’m wide awake,” he says. “It’s only two in the afternoon in Floom.”

  “On our last trip, one day in fairy tale land turned out to be about one hour at home. So that means it’s about two thirty in the morning here. We should probably go to sleep.”

  But first I turn back to the silent mirror. “Maryrose? Are you there? Can we talk? We’d love to know why you keep sending us into different fairy tales.”

  No answer.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Jonah says.

  I roll my eyes. “Why do we keep coming back if she won’t even tell us what’s going on?”

  “Because
it’s fun,” Jonah says. “And she’ll tell us eventually. She’ll have to.”

  We hike up the stairs and I peek at the microwave clock. Wait a sec. “It’s not two in the morning. It’s six in the morning.”

  His eyes bulge. “That was close. Mom and Dad wake up in one hour!”

  I don’t get it. Last time, every day in fairy tale land was an hour back home. This time we were gone for two and three-quarter days, which is about … sixty-six fairy tale hours. It doesn’t add up!

  “I guess time depends on the story,” Jonah says.

  “I guess.”

  “Next time, bring your watch,” he says.

  “What next time? Did I agree on a next time?”

  He nods knowingly. “There will be a next time.”

  We climb back up the stairs to the top floor and open the door to my parents’ room to carefully peek in. Creak.

  “Shush!” I whisper, but they don’t budge.

  “Don’t worry,” Jonah says. “They won’t wake up. They’re really tired.”

  “They’ve been working really hard,” I say. I suddenly feel guilty about all the grief I’ve given them. They just started a new law firm — that’s why we moved to Smithville. And starting a new business — is hard. I know, because I just helped start one. There are so many details to think about! And running a home is tough, too.

  “I guess it’s kind of tough to be in their shoes,” I say.

  “Bed?” Jonah asks.

  “Bed,” I say, and I close the door. “A real bed, too. Straw on the floor, I will not miss you.”

  “Good night, Ab,” Jonah says.

  I give him a tight hug.

  Then I step into my room and over to my jewelry box. I want to see Cinderella.

  She’s there, smiling. But now instead of her poofy platinum dress, she’s wearing a poofy baker’s hat. And an apron that says CINDERELLA’S CROWNIES.

  Aw! Yay, Cinderella!

  Snow is standing beside her, still in my lime-green pajamas.

  Oh, no! I forgot my polka-dot pajamas in Floom! Oh well. They were ridiculous pajamas anyway. And I guess they belong in Floom, since they’re the flag and everything.

  I strip off my dress, which is covered in gray soot. I’m about to toss it into the hamper when I realize something.

  My hamper is full.