He was still at the store? Shivers ran down Kate’s spine. She couldn’t look away.
The man said a few words, presumably the same questions he had asked earlier. Fran shook her head before pointing at Kate. Her lips moved, but Kate couldn’t read what she said. Fran continued on, and the man took one look at Kate, standing with Johnny in uniform, and exited the store. Kate took a deep breath. She’d be on the lookout for him.
“That guy gives me the creeps,” she said.
“Me, too. He was talking to my dad earlier, trying to sell him some artwork. My dad didn’t trust him, so he sent him packing. Let me know if you see him again. I don’t want him bothering our customers.”
If he was trying to sell Mr. Day some artwork, maybe he wasn’t who she thought he was after all.
Meanwhile, Fran was getting closer. She swerved around a customer and headed straight their way.
“I can’t seem to lose Fran Marshall for the life of me,” Kate whispered.
Johnny struggled to control a smile. “She’s a fun enough gal to have around.”
Fran bounced up to Johnny. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” She winked at Kate while pushing at Johnny’s elbow. She hung on like she owned his arm.
Kate paused for a moment, looking from Johnny to Fran. She would have to figure out their relationship later. Right now, there was that stranger to contend with. “What did that man want?” she asked Fran.
“To know where we got the rag dress from. I told him it was yours.” She patted her hair to make sure it was still in place. “Didn’t I see you wear it to an audition once?” She laughed at her joke.
“Funny.” Kate made a face at her.
Terrific. Thanks to Fran, now the creepy stranger thought it was Kate’s dress. Only three more days. Three more days and she could get that dress out of the window and back safely in its packaging. Tuesday window night couldn’t come fast enough for her.
“See you Friday,” said Johnny. “And bring your friend Josie, too.”
“The more the merrier!” added Fran, tugging again on Johnny’s arm. She led him to the door.
It isn’t a date. He was with Fran? He might even bring her along when he picked her and Josie up. Kate called out, “Never mind, I should probably…” But they were out the door, Fran laughing at something Johnny had said.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Kate knocked on the Oberlins’ door and waited. The rain was starting up again, so she opened her coat and tucked the package from Harmon-Craig inside. The weather was so miserable, no one else was on the street except a rather muscular man across the way. He had no umbrella and was getting soaked. Kate checked him out. To her relief, he wasn’t the man from the store.
Kate knocked louder. Weren’t they home? They must be. Uncle Adalbert knew she was bringing a delivery. Kate looked over her shoulder, and the man had not moved. A shiver ran through her. If Adalbert didn’t open up in five seconds, she was leaving. She didn’t like the looks of that man. One, two, three, four…
Finally, she heard some muffled noises, and Uncle Adalbert ushered Kate inside.
“Could you stay for one half hour? I need to run a quick errand, and I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“Sure.” Her guilty conscience would agree to anything right now. Cook you dinner? Yes. Hoover your floors? Okeydokey. Wash the windows? Give me the bucket.
He pulled on his raincoat. “Will you be fine with her?” he asked. “She is having a bad day today. Mostly living back in her childhood home in Poland. She does not know who I am.” He looked away. “I think she might be little frightened of me.”
Kate swallowed. No, she wouldn’t be all right with Elsie. She never wanted to be left alone with Elsie again.
“Who’s there?” called out a shaky voice in Polish.
“It’s me,” Kate said tentatively, also in Polish, as she walked through to the living room. Aunt Elsie lay curled up on the couch, a frightened child wrapped in a knitted blanket. Kate tried to keep her face from showing concern.
Aunt Elsie’s eyes softened when she saw Kate. “Katja?”
Uh-oh. Here we go again. Kate turned to look at Uncle Adalbert.
He whispered, “You grow to look like her younger sister more and more.” He then went into the kitchen and started banging around in the cupboards like he was looking for something.
Kate took a deep breath to prepare herself. This time she would keep the conversation away from Kopciuszek. Perhaps they could talk about baking.
“It’s good to see you, too, Aun—Elsie,” Kate leaned over the frail woman and gave her a hug.
In response, Aunt Elsie clung to Kate’s neck, fingering her grandmother’s amber necklace. “That man won’t let me leave,” she whispered in her ear.
Kate pulled Aunt Elsie’s arms from around her neck, and, holding her hands instead, sat down on the sofa. “That’s because Mom told us to wait here,” she said, pretending to be Katja and spouting off the first thing that came to her mind. “His name is Adalbert, and he is going out to the store now. You remember him, though. He makes the most beautiful dresses. He made the one you are wearing.” Kate changed the subject, hoping to reconnect Elsie to the present.
Aunt Elsie looked down at her blue housedress. She smiled faintly. “It is a pretty dress, isn’t it? I do like pretty dresses. Tak, yes, I can wait a little longer for Mother.”
She leaned in toward Kate. “This color reminds me of the Kopciuszek dress.”
Kate’s resolve faltered. “Yes, it is beautiful.” She quickly scanned her mind, trying to come up with a way to change the subject.
“Do you remember when we tried it on?”
“Um, yes,” she answered distractedly. She could bring out the tatting shuttle. No. That would remind Elsie of the dress. Or maybe she could take out some paper and scissors and they could work on some paper cut designs. “Did you want to work on wycinanki?” Kate sounded each syllable slowly: vee-chee-non-kee. She still had trouble speaking Polish.
Elsie’s eyes lit up, and she smiled a schoolgirl smile. “Remember, Father told us not to, but we did anyway.” She sighed. “Oh, wasn’t that the best day?”
“Yes,” Kate said, playing along. Elsie was ignoring her attempts to talk about something else.
Elsie pushed herself up off the sofa, and Kate helped her gain her balance. Elsie began a waltz around the room. “We danced and danced in our bedroom until our feet hurt, and we were afraid Mother and Father were on their way home. Oh, why don’t we dance like that anymore, Katja?” Elsie continued to dance about the room.
Uncle Adalbert stood in the door with a wistful smile. He watched his bride dance with an imaginary partner. “Does someone need a Prince Charming?” he asked quietly, stepping into the room with his arms raised. His eyes were filled with hope. With love.
Aunt Elsie stopped. She stared at him with a blank look. She did not recognize the man she had been married to since she was nineteen. The man she had escaped the war with. The man she trusted to help her protect the Kopciuszek dresses, her biggest secret.
Uncle Adalbert’s arms shook, and he lowered them. He began to turn away when Elsie shyly held her hands out to him like she was a young girl at a dance and the boy she’d been hoping would ask her to dance, just did.
He scooped her up, and the two began dancing slowly around the room. Uncle Adalbert closed his eyes and pulled Elsie closer. Their steps matched perfectly.
There was a record player against the wall. Kate quietly got up and saw there was already a Chopin record on the turntable. She switched it on, and gentle piano music filled the room.
Suddenly Aunt Elsie’s eyes became clear, and she saw Uncle Adalbert for who he really was. “Adalbert.” Her voice was soft and lovely. She raised her hand and gently touched his face.
“Elsie,” said Adalbert, his voice caught in his throat. He leaned his face into her hand. “Brakuje mi ciebie, I miss you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook hi
s head.
Kate silently slipped out of the room and settled into the kitchen. She didn’t know how many more private moments Uncle Adalbert would have left with Aunt Elsie.
Dear Kate,
I’ve come up empty-handed. Troops come and go around here and no one has heard of Dad. I guess it’s been too long and we’ll have to accept the “presumed dead” letter Mom got. I don’t know what else to do. I mean, it’s been too long. Surely he would have been able to get to a base if he was still alive. It’ll always seem unreal, though, won’t it?
They’ve added me to the monuments men. Guess all those art lectures from Dad might pay off after all. Wouldn’t he be surprised? At any rate, I’ll try to do him proud.
-Floyd
Chapter Thirty
Kate was long past being on borrowed time where the rag dress was concerned. Two weeks and nothing had happened to it. She had to get the dress out of the window. Not only was it spoiling her enjoyment of the windows’ success, but it brought out that strange man who loitered in front of the store every day. Although he hadn’t approached her again, he seemed to be watching her. Only, every time she looked at him, he wasn’t actually looking at her. It was like when you try to swat a fly and it senses your hand coming and gets away.
Once the dress was safely back in her locker, it would be time to talk to Adalbert and find out what exactly he knew. It was clear now that Elsie was in no condition to make any decisions. If they were losing Elsie, Kate was on her own to figure out the dresses and her role as Keeper. Specifically, how was she to find the Kolodenkos?
The crowds from the first window were back for the second window. Kate enjoyed hearing the children giggle at the funny stepsisters who couldn’t make up their minds about which dresses they wanted to wear.
The windows even brought out a small contingent of New Look protesters wearing their knee-length skirts and holding signs saying Down with the New Look and We won’t revert to Granma’s skirt. Seems like the girl working millinery at Harmon-Craig wasn’t the only one not wanting to turn back the fashion time clock.
But today, Kate hurried into the store, not even bothering to fight the crowd admiring the window at the front entrance. Instead, she headed straight to the back of the store, to the unloading area. The truck should be there already. Time for window number three.
The windows had consumed Kate. Nothing was as important as setting up these displays. She went through the motions of the day only so she could get to the store after school. Josie was annoyed that she had to go to the soda counter alone, but then she easily found a group of girls to hang out with, leaving Kate wondering if she would fit in with them once the window series was over.
In the alley, the men were already unloading the majestic and whimsical horses. The first horse stood tall and proud, one foot lifted in a prance. Its bridle was highly decorated with royal emblems. Its bold reds, greens, and gold were out of place against the towering gray buildings. The other horse stood inside the large truck, partially wrapped in protective paper and cardboard, waiting to join its friend in pulling Cinderella’s carriage.
The papier-mâché horses were gathering a small audience in the alley before they could be inspected and secreted away into the prop room. Cecilia Staples was amazing. So much work had gone into making the horses, from the metal frames to the shiny gold paint on the tassels. All for one week in the Harmon-Craig window.
Inside, the crew stood around the dress cart, arguing about the ball gowns Miss Lassiter had sent down. They were from a new designer she wanted to showcase on Cinderella. Three of her favorite styles. Apparently, none of them seemed quite right.
Again, Kate thought of the magnificent dress in her locker. No way. She couldn’t offer him that dress. Part of her thought it would be great fun to show New York the real Cinderella dress—even though no one would know what they were really looking at.
She sucked in a breath. Good heavens, why would she even think it? She had already lost sleep over the rag dress. Her sanity couldn’t take the stress of letting them use the ball gown, too.
The new kid piped up, “My sister bought a honey of a dress at Bonwit’s. Why don’t we go over there and get one like it?”
Silence. The men all looked at one another. Then Mr. G roared to life, “Bonwit’s? Are. You. Out. Of. Your. Mind?”
The boy cringed.
“Get out of here,” yelled Mr. G, pointing at the shocked boy. “You’re fired.” Mr. G looked around. His wild eyes landed on Kate. “You. Go find Miss Lassiter before she leaves. Tell her these gowns are unacceptable. Not enough sparkle. This is for Cinderella, for crying out loud. Not some timid coed.”
Kate tore up the stairs to Women’s Wear. That poor boy. She’d never seen someone fired before. No warning. Now she could see where Mr. G got his reputation. But unless Miss Lassiter had a new delivery, these were the fanciest dresses she had. Mr. G would not be happy and he was already in the foulest mood she’d ever seen. What if he fired her because she couldn’t come up with the right dress? The only suitable ball gown in the building was stashed at the bottom of her locker. Where it needed to stay.
Halfway up the empty stairway, Kate stopped. It would be pointless to go to Miss Lassiter. There were no other dresses. Her stomach churned. She would love to see the Kopciuszek gown displayed under the lights of the front window. It would be what she had envisioned when she first suggested the idea of the Cinderella windows. But she couldn’t put the real Cinderella dress out there for everyone to see. Could she? The real dress? The…special dress?
Changing direction, Kate turned to go towards the employees’ locker room. Then she turned back again and continued to Women’s Wear. Maybe there had been a delivery. She should check.
…
“Kate, darling, those are my best dresses. Has Mr. G even put one on the manikin yet?”
She shook her head.
“Well, then, how can he complain before he has even tried? Insufferable man.” Miss Lassiter walked away, waving her hand high in the air. “Tell him to trust me. Those dresses will fly off the shelves if he puts one on Cinderella.”
…
“What? Is she crazy? This, this…” Mr. G stammered, flipping a limp sleeve in the air. “This is not a ball gown.”
“It’s too bad Kate couldn’t pull another perfect dress out of her hat,” said Roy. The other display men seemed to think that was funny.
“Oh, couldn’t I?” she boasted before sealing her lips tight. No, I can’t.
The man who had given her such a hard time on her first window night smirked as he walked past. “You don’t belong here,” he whispered.
Kate’s breath caught and she clasped her necklace out of reflex.
Roy witnessed the exchange and he came over to her. “Never you mind him. Play your cards right, and you could be the first dame Mr. G lets design a Harmon-Craig window. If you got something, bring it out. He don’t want to lose momentum now. The people are all but ignoring Bonwit’s circus windows for ours.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. Now what was she supposed to do?
She didn’t want to admit it, but they were both right. She didn’t belong there—yet. But she did have what it took to prove her worth. The dress was the most important item in this window. The dress would be what sold the window. Cinderella’s transformation. The whole store was waiting to see how Mr. G would show the fairy godmother magic. New York was waiting to see the magic.
The Cinderella windows were her idea, even if she didn’t do any of the design work herself. If they failed, Mr. G would never use any of her plans again. Her display career would be over before she even had a full shot. She would go from working with the best in the business back down to steaming clothes forever.
After helplessly trying all three dresses on Marge, Kate made up her mind. There really was only one dress for this window.
She gently picked up the rag dress, which she had taken off Marge-Cinderella earlier. The coarse material warmed
in her hands. Knowing this dress was safe, and about to be tucked away, eased the anxiety she had been feeling all week. So what was she doing, about to make her stress level worse? This rag dress was nothing. Unimportant. Only a reminder of a life once lived, before it was transformed.
Babcia had another saying. Now that Kate knew what she did about the Kopciuszek dresses, it had even more meaning. A pretty girl looks pretty in every clothing. Kate couldn’t remember the amount of times Babcia had spouted that proverb. Certainly every time Mom splurged on a designer something. In Elsie’s Cinderella story, the girl had caught the prince’s eye before her transformation. He fell in love with the girl in the rag dress.
But this was a display window. No one would fall in love with a stiff manikin in a plain ball gown. This particular Cinderella needed the pretty dress to draw in the crowd.
Kate bounded up the stairs to the locker room. When alone, she gave pause. The whole point of being a Keeper was to keep the dresses safe. But nothing happened to the rag dress. It was still safe. She hadn’t failed it.
Besides, the dress would only be displayed for a week. Or would it be two weeks again? Never mind. She would show she had what it took to be a window trimmer. It would all work out.
Convinced well enough, she shut off her conflicting thoughts, retrieved the wrapped package, and raced back to the main floor.
Her cheeks were flushed when she arrived back at the window, and she knocked over Marge in her enthusiasm.
Roy grabbed for the manikin and put her back on her feet, patting her head for good measure. “Sorry, old girl,” he whispered.
Kate held up the brown paper package. “What about this?”
“Nice,” said Neil. “A paper bag is just the thing to attract the attention of the prince.”
She felt herself redden even more. She carried the package to the table and reverently unwrapped the paper. But these were men. Would the dress strike them the way it did her? Had it been the mood she was in? She hadn’t opened it since that fateful day.
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