A Cinderella Story Read online

  The little girl is indeed missing one of her shoes, and I have the matching one in my purse. However, the dad is also missing one of his shoes and it’s in his hand. My heart melts when I realize he took his shoe off in the middle of the mall to make his daughter feel better about losing her shoe. I catch up to them just before they walk into the shoe store.

  “Excuse me, young lady,” I say, addressing the little girl. I bring myself to her eye level. Although I want to focus all my attention on the girl, my eyes have other ideas. My willpower is crumbling under his gaze, and I steal a look at him. His eyes portray a warning toward me, as if he’s trying to communicate his thoughts through them. Those ocean blue eyes are burning through me, clearly saying, You touch her, you get hurt. Uneasy under his gaze, I give him a reassuring smile, trying to communicate I’m harmless.

  With a subtle nod, I point to my purse. “You may call me your fairy godmother, Cinderella.”

  She looks at her dad with big brown eyes that clearly say, This woman is insane, Daddy. Disregarding the silent conversation between them, I continue.

  “I believe I have something you’ve left behind, princess.” I pull the other shoe out and extend a hand toward her foot. “May I?”

  She beams at the first sight of her shoe. “Daddy, look! The crazy lady found my shoe.” She immediately gives me her foot for me to put it on.

  Slipping the shoe on her tiny foot, I declare, “Perfect match.”

  She looks at me with a smile on her face and reaches out a hand toward my head. To my surprise, she giggles and gently taps my head. “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, fairy godmother.”

  Before I get a chance to react, they both say their thank-yous and walk away. Straightening, I watch them walk on with glee. The smile on my face grows even bigger when I realize he’s still holding his one shoe. They come to an abrupt stop, not too far from where I am at, and he puts his shoe back on.

  The last thing I hear is the little girl’s contagious giggles as she says, “You’re so silly, Daddy.”

  “Daddy, I’m going to be a mermaid. Watch this!” Ev says animatedly, sliding down the edge of the tub. She giggles as she emerges from under the water. “Did you see that, Daddy? Wasn’t that so much fun!”

  “Yes, little monkey, but look, you splashed so much water onto the floors.” The tiredness of the day is starting to get to me, and the smallest things are getting rather irritating.

  “But it was so much fun, right, Daddy.” She looks up at me with big innocent eyes, and I don’t know how I could ever be upset or annoyed with her.

  With a hint of tiredness clinging to me, I smile at her. It doesn't take her long to realize she’s not in trouble, and she gives me her brightest smile, lighting up the room and my heart. Deciding this is the perfect moment to reminisce about the events of the day, she goes on an excited monologue.

  "Daddy, don't you think that lady was just so cool. She found my shoe and did the whole Cindewella thing. I really felt like a pwincess. Not that you don't make me feel like one every day, but she was almost like, sent from an angel.” She stops for a breath while I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

  Generally, for a three-year-old, Everly’s speech is above her years—until she gets overexcited or overwhelmed in certain situations. As it is now, she’s so excited over what happened earlier today that she’s getting her Rs and Ws mixed up. When I first realized this a few months ago, I took her to the speech pathologist and was told mixing up letters is normal for a three-year-old when excited. So, I don’t attempt to correct her when she continues her monologue.

  “How cool would it be if we got to hang out with her all the time. Then she would be my fairy godmother and that would just be so much fun. I’m going to tell April all about her tomorrow at daycare. And Grandma, yes! It's going to be awesome."

  She takes another breather, then looks at me like she remembered something. “Daddy, were you angry at that lady?”

  The question catches me off guard. “Angry? No, honey. Why do you think I was angry?”

  She looks back up at me, taking a break from playing with her mermaid. “You had your angry eyes on when she was talking to me.”

  "Angry eyes? I don’t think so.” I smile at her, but she's not wrong in her observation.

  At first, when I saw her approaching us, my first instinct was to pull Ev behind me and question this random woman on her intentions. But I got a glimpse of the purple rain boot peeking out of the top of her enormous pink purse. Add in the shoulder-length curls bouncing up and down with her each step and the bright jade-colored eyes that smiled at Everly, and I was paralyzed. I couldn't move, all motor functions forgotten, and I just stood there and let this strange woman play some silly Cinderella scheme on my daughter.

  While I have this inner thought process with myself, the excitement in Ev's voice has reached top volume and the things she's saying are getting a little ridiculous. "Daddy, I could call her my fairy godmother forever. She could do my hair like Cinderella. We could go shoe shopping all the time."

  I laugh at the excitement and silliness of this entire monologue. "I take you shoe shopping all the time."

  She just looks at me with questioning eyes. "It's not the same. You don't even know what kind of shoes goes with which outfit. A girl would know…"

  I realize we’re treading in dangerous territory here and change the subject. “All right, little lady, it’s time to wash your hair and get ready for bed,” I say, knowing she’s immediately going to object, but I’m exhausted from the day’s events, and I don’t have the energy to spend one more minute standing.

  As expected, she immediately argues. “No, Daddy, I want to wash my dolly’s hair first,” she whines.

  This time, I’m firm in my decision when I tell her, “No, it’s your turn and if you don’t want soap in your eyes, I suggest you close them when I tell you to.”

  “Nooooooooooooooo! I don’t wanna!” she screams and stomps her feet in the half-full bath, splashing water everywhere.

  Before I can open my mouth to tell her to calm down, my mother walks into the bathroom, just as if she’s my fairy Godmother. With a sweet smile on her face, she pats me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and sit for a minute and relax? I’ll finish bathing little lady here.”

  I give them both kisses, earing me smiles and giggles, and head straight to the kitchen. I open the fridge and take out a cold Budweiser can, opening it and taking a long sip from it as I head to the living room. After Willow passed, I couldn’t live in the same space with so many memories. Day after day, I was falling apart until, one day, my mother offered me and Ev her basement suite. It’s a two-bedroom two-bathroom suite that works perfectly for the two of us. Works even better on days like today, when being mother and father both gets a bit too tiring and she can step in and help.

  Taking my usual spot on my La-Z-Boy, I reach for the remote and flip the TV onto the Sportsnet to watch the highlights of the hockey game. The highlights inform me my team won by two. This win puts us one more step closer to the playoffs.

  I give a small fist pump to the air. “Yes!”

  With cold beer in hand and SportsNet in front of me, I reach down and pull the lever to raise my feet up. My body immediately relaxes, and my mind goes on autopilot. As I listen to the soft voices of my mother and daughter talking to each other and giggling in the bathroom, my eyes grow heavy…

  Green eyes—expressive, soft, beautiful jade eyes—stare at me from the floor. A beautiful smile brightens the room, aimed right at me and Everly. That smile does funny things to me. The woman carries a rain boot in one hand as she gazes up at me.

  Next thing I know, someone is gently touching my shoulder. I blink awake and rub the sleep out of my eyes, still under the spell of the dream or the memory. “Thank you, Mom. You’re my savior, my personal fairy godmother.”

  “Nope, just your mother, taking care of the two most important people in my life.” She smiles and adds, “Hmmm… sp
eaking of fairy godmothers, Ev told me she met hers today and that you couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

  I give her a small chuckle and noncommittally say, “Ha, you know how children are.”

  She gives me a knowing smile with a glint in her eyes. “Hmm, whatever you say, son.”

  It’s around ten pm now. I have to wake up early for work and get Ev ready for daycare, so I hug my mother and give her a kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Mom. Thanks for all your help tonight.”

  She hugs me back. “You’re welcome, and don’t think for a minute I’ll let this ‘fairy godmother’ thing go.”

  I laugh as I walk down the hall to the bathroom and give her a two-finger wave goodnight.

  It's been three full weeks since the psychic reading and I've been contemplating my decision to quit my job.

  Monday morning, I open my eyes to a sunny early-October day and immediately know today is the day. I’ve finally made the decision to quit my nine-to-five job and do something I’m passionate about. Don’t get me wrong, my job is great; however, I’m just not that into it. It’s just not for me anymore.

  At seven am, I walk into my eighteenth-floor office, hand in my resignation letter to my boss, inform him the letter is effective immediately, and walk out despite his pleas and reasoning and offerings of raises and whatnot.

  Well, currently, you're looking at the former special events coordinator for a non-profit company called Turning Wheels Association. Turning Wheels Association organizes all sizes of special events for small businesses to come together and discuss their business and growth plans. My role in Turning Wheels was to plan and organize all aspects of these events, which came with a lot of phone calls, emails, and face-to-face interactions with people who are unhappy one way or another.

  At first, I loved it. I loved bringing a smile to the faces of our customers. I loved solving their problems and sending them home happier. However, it takes a toll on you to always listen to people complain and yell at you and be upset. My job paid well and was fun and enjoyable when I first started it, but spending three years in the same position with no hopes of moving up or a possible raise gets old pretty quick.

  I loved the environment and the people I worked with and I'll be sure to keep in touch with them but right now, for me, it's upwards and onwards with my life.

  I immediately drive back home and call my mother. “Mom, I did it. I finally quit my job.”

  She gives an excited giggle. “And how do we feel?”

  “Ummmm, currently excited but I think once the adrenaline wears off, I might be begging Mike for my job back,” I respond nervously.

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Sky,” my mother chides. “Aubrey told you this decision would help you move forward with your life. Trust in her instincts.”

  “Yes, Mom. Well, I was planning on taking my laptop and planner and heading to the nearest Starbucks to get my new life organized,” I tell her.

  “That’s my girl,” she says excitedly. I smile, tell her I love her, and hang up the phone.

  My parents recently bought a vacation house on Vancouver Island. They love the weather and the environment so much, their vacation house has become their permanent house. However, this doesn’t mean we don’t talk to each other or see each other often. Thank goodness for the Internet and technology. We Skype and FaceTime all the time. Morning, night, even at the butt crack of dawn… doesn’t matter, if one of us needs the other, we’re there for each other.

  As I told my mom, I go home, get my things ready, and head out to the nearest coffee shop in my neighborhood. I order myself a good old drip coffee and tell the barista to leave no room for milk. I like my coffee black. I find a corner of the shop that has a view and a plug for my laptop and start setting up.

  While drumming my fingers on the keys of my laptop, trying to figure out what the next chapter of my life should consist of, an idea comes to me. I’ve always loved reading and writing and anything and everything to do with it. I also have a passion for customer service and for copious amounts of tasty beer.

  I remember the store that used to be a salon is on sale and around the corner from my condo. This idea of mine shines like a light bulb in my head… Yes, why not invest in the space and open my own Books & Beers joint? Best beers around the world, comfortable couches and leather chairs along with a roaring fire in the corner of the store, maybe a small appetizer menu, and shelves and shelves full of books. Yes, that's it. Now I just need to figure out how to start this endeavour, so I open up a new window, type in “Google” and start doing some research on how to start a new business.

  The information on the Internet is overwhelming but very useful. I hadn't realized I’ve been sitting here taking notes and web browsing for more than two hours. The gurgling sound that escapes my tummy reminds me it’s almost lunchtime. I leave my post and go back to the barista, and this time, I order one of the specialty sandwiches and a pop to ease up my grumbly belly. While waiting for my food to get ready, I go to the bathroom, and when I come back out of there, I see a few guys in construction gear sitting at my table.

  They’ve pushed my laptop, notebook, and planner aside and made themselves comfortable. I walk over with purpose, ready to give them a piece of my mind. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I was at this table working.” I give my laptop a pointed look.

  They look between themselves, and one of them speaks up. “Sorry, ma’am, we’re just here on a quick coffee break. We’ll be out of your hair quickly in a few minutes. Can we share the table until then?”

  There’s a glint in his deep ocean-blue eyes when he asks to share the table for a few minutes and a forming smirk on his rugged face that I’m instantly drawn to. I mumble something along the lines of, “Of course, no problem,” and his smile widens.

  It’s then that I realize I’ve seen those eyes before. I’ve met this man before, but who he is or where I met him is a mystery to me. We keep staring at each other, him with his knowing smirk, me with my ogling gaze, until one of his friends clears his throat and cuts our eye contact.

  “Ahem… Monty, man, come on, stop staring at the nice lady and finish your coffee before it gets too cold and you declare it’s back to work time.”

  Monty averts his eyes from me and chuckles at his friend. “All right, my coffee is already cold, and since you’ve reminded me, it is time to go back to the drag.”

  His declaration earns him groans of frustration from the other men sharing my table and a soft chuckle from me. He focuses his blue gaze on me one more time and softly speaks his parting words with a wink. “Have a good day, fairy godmother.”

  I gasp in shock as the realization hits that this is the man from the mall and he’s known who I am all along. The barista at the counter announcing my name with great urgency takes me out of my shocked state. I finally manage to close my mouth and stop staring at the door long enough to go and collect my long-forgotten food.

  Once I finish eating my sandwich, I go straight back to my research and decide to use my hard-earned degree in literature and make a career out of it. After a few more hours of research, note-taking, and Pinteresting possible entrepreneurship opportunities, I pack up to return tomorrow… and hopefully, hopefully, see this Monty again.

  After we finish dinner, Ev and I decided to go for a ride around town and indulge in some ice cream. The ride is uneventful, as it’s a rather short one. We usually walk to the ice cream shop, but it’s early October now and the weather is starting to cool down. Walking would be too uncomfortable for her little hands and toes. I park the car under a beautiful willow tree with its green branches falling like rows and rows of green waterfalls.

  This town is full of memories and small things that constantly remind me of my Willow, causing new hurt and a feeling of betrayal I can’t shake off.

  I realize I’ve been staring at it in deep thought when Ev makes a complaining sound about being stuck in the car seat I have yet to unlock. I take her out and paste
a smile to my face, even though this tree reminds me of everything that is and was her mother.

  Once inside the ice cream parlor, we both go to chilled glass display and pick our flavor for the evening. Mine is always the same, never changes. Mint chocolate chip, two scoops, in a bowl with sprinkles on top. She’s more adventurous with her flavors, and this evening is no different. She orders a kid-size bowl and asks for a scoop of bubble gum ice cream and drizzles it with chocolate syrup.

  “Kid, what kind of atrocity are you putting in your body?” I say, laughing. Giving me one of her contagious giggles, she grabs a spoonful and pushes it to me. “Nuh-uh… not happening. I am good with what I have, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, come on, Daddy. Don’t be such a party pooper. You always get the same thing. It's boring,” she teases and the only thing I can do is to smile and shake my head in disbelief at how smart she is. This time, when she offers me the spoonful of ice cream, I accept it and immediately regret my decision.

  “Ugh… Sorry, kid, that’s all yours… I’ll stick to my boring ice cream.” She laughs again, and we eat the rest of our ice cream in content silence.

  Once at the car, Ev notices the tree and stares at it in pure amazement, as if she can't believe something that beautiful exists in real life. “Wow, Daddy, this tree looks like it belongs in a fairy tale,” she says with a dreamy look in her eyes that makes me smile.

  “Yes, honey, it sure does. Maybe for bedtime I’ll read you the story of The Willow Tree and its Fairies.” It’s one of Everly’s favorite stories that Willow, in her creativeness, made up. Now it’s left for me to tell her.

  She nods with excitement. “Let’s go home and get ready for bed, Daddy. I am so excited for story time.”