“If it’s still snowing, absolutely,” Isabelle said, even though she knew the snow would be gone by then. And maybe, if her hunch was right and Nora’s mom had been the unhappy princess, her mom would be cleared and Isabelle could be back in training and she would be able to help Nora.
At least that’s what she hoped would happen.
She went outside and whipped out her wand to make the swirly move, the one Grandmomma had called “their signal.”
She waited for Grandmomma to appear. To help her figure this out.
But Grandmomma did not appear.
Someone else did.
That someone was the one godmother Isabelle didn’t want to see.
That someone was her sister. Clotilda.
Does it feel as if they’ve been here before? With Isabelle in trouble and Clotilda walking in to save the day?
There might be a reason for that.
This was not the first time Clotilda had caught her sister breaking rules.
This was not the first time Clotilda had looked annoyed with Isabelle.
This was not the first time Clotilda looked as though she wanted to throw up her hands and say, “For all that is sparkly,” or “For pity’s sake,” or “Who can keep calm and sparkle on when you are breaking all these rules?”
But this was different. This was Isabelle breaking the rules—with the help of someone powerful.
This was Isabelle knowing something that Clotilda didn’t.
This was Isabelle in control. “Why aren’t you at the Home?” Clotilda asked.
As far as Clotilda was concerned, Isabelle had flunked out of training. She was not supposed to be standing in a fairy godmother–induced snowstorm outside the home of her first practice princess.
“Let me explain,” Isabelle said.
First, she apologized. She told Clotilda that she would have told her everything, but that Grandmomma had made her promise not to. And then, because flattery was still the best way to butter up her sister, she told her that she was really proud of her for being named Number Three. And that she would soon be Number One.
And then she told her about the picture.
And Nora’s mom.
And everything else, too.
Clotilda looked a bit stunned. “Grandmomma sent you to look for Mom?”
Isabelle knew this sounded ludicrous. “She wants to forgive her. And bring her back to the fairy godmother world.” She hoped Clotilda wouldn’t be mad.
“So you won’t tell Luciana what I’m doing?”
Clotilda put down her wand. “Of course not.” Clotilda put her dainty hand on Isabelle’s shoulder. “She was my mom, too. I miss her. Every day.”
This was the truth they’d always known but never really talked about. Even though they were different. Even though they did not do things the same way and were good at different things. They were sisters.
And that meant that, just as Isabelle wanted Clotilda to do well, Clotilda wanted Isabelle to do well. It meant that she missed Mom just as much as Isabelle did.
“So if you didn’t know what I was doing, why are you here?” Isabelle asked. “How did you find me?”
“Because Grandmomma told me where you were. Because she needs you. Now.”
“What do you mean, she needs me now?” Isabelle asked.
Clotilda said, “You need to come home.” She held out her hand so Isabelle could grab it. “Hold on tight.”
It doesn’t matter whether you live in the fairy godmother world or the regular world. Seeing your grandmomma sick in bed is scary.
Isabelle ran to Grandmomma’s side. She held her hand.
Grandmomma looked tired and weak. But her eyes still looked bright. “What did you find out?” she asked Isabelle.
Isabelle told her what Nora’s dad said. “Her real mom believed in happily ever after. Her real mom made wishes.” She squeezed Grandmomma’s hand. “I think Nora’s mom was the unhappy princess. I think Mom wanted those aquamarine sparkles to heal her, but she was too late.”
Isabelle showed Clotilda the picture of Nora’s mom.
Clotilda shook her head. Grandmomma wasn’t convinced. She said, “The regular world is full of people who believe in happily ever after and are not the unhappy princess.”
Even more important: If Nora’s mom was the unhappy princess, then what had Mom been doing all this time?
Isabelle was so frustrated. She had been so sure! “I felt as if I was close. All the pieces fit. I even wondered whether that’s why I got Nora to begin with.” (Because of the no coincidences thing.)
Grandmomma sighed. “I wish I could tell you that your hunch was correct. But I can assure you, I was not mistaken. The unhappy princess was a real-life royal princess.” She took a deep breath. Her skin looked pale. “Also, Isabelle, when I match princesses with trainees, I don’t rely on hunches. I rely on experience and other measurable data. Nora might have seemed like an unusual choice to you, but trust me, she really wasn’t. She was independent like you. She had a big heart like you. And also like you, she was a girl who missed her real mom.”
This made sense.
But it was also a disappointment.
Isabelle had so wanted to be right. And not just for herself—for Nora, too.
When she was at Nora’s house, she felt happy, too. And that wasn’t just because of Nora. It was also because of Gregory, Samantha, Mason, and Janet. It was because of Nora’s dad and stepmom. Isabelle said, “Her dad is as kind as any king. Her stepmom is the nicest, kindest, most wonderful person I have ever met. She bakes magical treats, almost as good as ours. And she even likes sparkles—or what she calls glitter.”
Grandmomma smiled. So did Clotilda. Grandmomma said, “She seems like a nice lady.” In other words, she was also pretty sure that Isabelle was no closer to finding Mom than she’d been when she started.
Isabelle needed to start all over again. But first she had a favor to ask. “Please, can I help Nora just a little bit? She’s going to lose that election big-time. And all her friends in the process. I don’t want her to be alone.”
Grandmomma looked at Clotilda. “What do you think?” (In other words, could they keep this from the Bests?)
Clotilda wasn’t sure. “Just to be clear, you’re asking us to break the rules?”
Isabelle nodded. “Not all the rules. Just look the other way and don’t tell anyone you know what I’m up to.”
“And do you think you can find Mom when you’re done?” Clotilda asked.
Isabelle held Grandmomma’s hand tighter than ever. “All I’m sure of is that Nora needs me.”
Grandmomma smiled. That was because Isabelle was acting like an official fairy godmother. She nodded to Clotilda. “What can we whip up so she doesn’t get caught?”
Clotilda smiled. “How about a touch of fog?”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Isabelle twirled. “The second I figure out anything, I’ll give you the signal.”
When Isabelle got back to Nora’s, it was morning. The snow had melted, but a thick blanket of fog covered her neighborhood.
Isabelle banged on Nora’s door.
Her stepmom answered, balancing a plate of cinnamon rolls with icing in her hand. “You’re back! I’m so glad!” She offered her a roll. “How are you, Isabelle? Nora just went to school. I’m making treats for her big speech. These are ooey gooey cinnamon rolls laced with chocolate ribbons.”
Ribbons of chocolate reminded her of her sister. “They sound great,” Isabelle said, her tummy already growling. “Are you making anything else?”
“Purple macarons. And whoopie pies.”
Maybe it was the way she smiled. Or said, “You’re back!” Or maybe it was because she was making all of Isabelle’s favorite fairy godmother treats. Or maybe it was because she was wearing a ring. And not just any ring. She was wearing Nora’s ring.
And it was shining bright, like the entire prism of light.
Isabelle knew that she shouldn’t
rely on hunches. But every bone in her body was telling her that this time, she was right.
“What do you remember about the story of the unhappy princess?” she asked, grabbing a cinnamon roll and taking a bite.
“The unhappy princess?” Nora’s stepmom looked puzzled.
Isabelle told her to sit down, that this was important. “You know, the princess who never got what she wanted, the princess who disappeared, that made everyone stop believing in wishes.” When Nora’s stepmom still didn’t answer, Isabelle pointed to her hand. “Where did you get that ring?”
“It’s my ring. I’ve always had it,” Nora’s stepmom said. She looked a little annoyed. “I don’t really have time for fairy tales right now. Nora’s counting on me to bring snacks for her big speech. Will you help me pack these up?”
But Isabelle wasn’t going to let her go anywhere. “I think we both know that the story of the unhappy princess isn’t just a fairy tale.” Isabelle put her hand on Nora’s stepmom’s arm. “Please, tell me what you know. Please?”
Unfortunately, she didn’t know much.
The Story of the Unhappy Princess, as
Told by Nora’s Stepmom
When I was young, there was a princess. She seemed very kind and beautiful, but also, most unhappy.
So she gave up her crown.
I don’t really know more than that.
“What do you mean, you don’t know more than that?” Isabelle cried.
Nora’s stepmom shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t really worry about princesses all that much. But what I can tell you is that I believe in magic. Right after she disappeared, I met Nora’s dad and Nora, and they were so unhappy. Almost right away, I knew they needed me. I knew we could be a happy family. More than that, for the first time, I was happy—happier than I had ever been before.”
Isabelle grabbed Nora’s stepmom’s hands. “Before you met Nora’s dad, by any chance, did you make a wish?” She knew that sounded odd, so she added, “Since you said you believe in magic.”
Nora’s stepmom looked funny. “I used to make wishes all the time, although lately, I haven’t.” She smiled. “The truth is, I haven’t had to. I have everything I want.”
Isabelle started jumping up and down. “Well, can you make one now? For Nora. Or for yourself. Or for me to stop talking. Anything! Make a wish. If you do, I believe that a fairy godmother will appear. She will come and grant your wish, just as she did when you wished to be happy and met Nora’s dad.”
This had become more than awkward, but Isabelle had more than a little hunch about what was about to happen.
“What would make you happily ever after right now?” she asked. (She hoped it wasn’t a wish for more wishes.)
Nora’s stepmom’s eyes turned bright, as if she were remembering something important. “I know.”
Without wasting another second, Nora’s stepmom closed her eyes. She held her ring to her heart. As she felt her heart, she remembered another day. Another wish. An old friend.
She made a wish.
It wasn’t a grand wish. She had never been that kind of princess. But just like the best wishes in history, it came straight from her heart.
I bet you know what happened next. First, a lot of multicolor sparkles filled the air.
Then some bright light.
Then a few more sparkles (but this time mostly blue).
And then a woman.
She had long, wild hair that fell loose below her shoulders. Her smile was big, and she wore a hat with a pom-pom on the top. She wore jeans with sparkly hearts down the side. And a T-shirt that said (in glitter) THE WORLD NEEDS MORE SPARKLES.
Isabelle clapped her hands.
Finally.
Mom.
Many things can happen when someone finds out that they have a real fairy godmother.
They can feel joy.
They can feel comfort.
But the magic of sparkles can do much more than that. Sparkles can heal a broken heart. They can bring a family together. Or in the case of Nora’s stepmom, they can make one.
Or maybe even two.
First thing first, Mom checked in with her princess, because she looked positively shocked. “Hi, Hannah,” she said. Then because of (stupid) Rule Three C, she reintroduced herself. Probably for the umpteenth time.
When she said, “I am your fairy godmother,” Nora’s mom almost fell over.
She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “Isabelle was right? You’re here to grant my wish?”
Isabelle twirled five-and-a-half times. She waited for Mom to grant it—but Mom had more pressing things to do first, things that she’d been wanting to do for a very long time.
First, she introduced herself to Isabelle. And then she gave her the kind of big, long hug that only mothers can give.
There was so much to say. (And a wish to grant!) But before anyone could say or do anything, Grandmomma and Clotilda appeared in a brilliant flash of light.
Clotilda raised her wand to meet Isabelle’s. (That was a first!) She said, “Isabelle! You did it!”
“Victoria,” Grandmomma said. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.”
First, Mom bowed her head to Grandmomma. And then to Clotilda. Then she twirled in a circle and hugged them both so long and tightly that they had to ask her to let go. “Mom. You did it. You repaired the fairy godmother world. And, Tildy! Look at you! I’m so proud. You are everything I always wanted to become—everything I hoped you would be.”
And then she turned to Isabelle.
Isabelle hoped she wasn’t going to say something about how she’d grown. Or how proud she was. Or some excuse for being gone.
Mom had something more important to say. “Isabelle. Clotilda. Will you please forgive me?”
“Can you?” Grandmomma asked them both.
Isabelle wanted to say yes, but first, there was one thing she had to know. “When you were gone, why didn’t you try harder to see us? It’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense.”
Before Mom could say anything, Grandmomma raised her wand. (That meant she was going to say something important.) “Isabelle and Clotilda, when your mother was banished, the Bests didn’t know what to do with you. They knew your mother would want to see you. They even worried that you were too much like her—that you would ultimately break the rules. Plus, they wanted to know where your mother had stashed that unhappy princess! So, after much debate, they decided to send you both to the Home. For good.”
Clotilda said, “They wanted to take away our sparkle?”
Mom said, “Even when I promised that the princess was happy, they wouldn’t believe me. They didn’t understand.”
Grandmomma said, “So I pleaded with the Bests to let me offer a compromise. I promised your mother that I would raise you both in the fairy godmother world, as long as your mother stayed away and never tried to contact you.” She held out her hands for Isabelle and Clotilda. “Under the circumstances, it was the best choice.”
Mom apologized again. “That’s why I stayed away. For you. For your happiness.”
Grandmomma said, “Because she loves you.” She looked at her daughter. “Over the years, I tried to find you. I hoped you could see them. But my hopes were only suspicions until now.”
When everyone was done congratulating and forgiving each other, Mom got serious. “Thank you for taking care of them. I am ready to come home. But will anyone believe me? Will everyone accept that the unhappy princess was never unhappily ever after?”
Everyone looked at Nora’s stepmom.
“Is there something you need me to do?” she asked Mom.
Mom laughed. “Just let me tell them your wish. Not this last one. The first one.”
Isabelle said, “Yes, what was her wish?”
“The princess wished to disappear,” Mom said. “To find a family. Have a regular life filled with love. And I did it. I made her happily ever after!”
“She actually used th
e word disappear?” Grandmomma looked very remorseful. “I should have believed you’d never make a wish for yourself.”
Mom shook her head. “I’d never do that. I learned from you.”
Then Grandmomma raised her wand to override Rule Three C so Nora’s stepmom could remember all the details, too.
Isabelle could tell when she did, because her face changed. From happy to sad to happy again and then to happily ever after. Then she bowed deeply to all the fairy godmothers.
“Did you really wish to not be a princess? To be Nora’s mom?” Isabelle asked.
“I might love wishing,” Nora’s stepmom said, “but I was never truly suited to all the princess rules.”
There were all kinds of important reasons for rules. But nothing was more important than happiness. And nothing made happiness like family.
They each grabbed some treats (Mom had given Hannah a lot of recipes) and caught up.
Grandmomma told Mom what was going on in the fairy godmother world. She told her about training and survival of the sparkliest and all twelve editions, as well as the changes they’d made, especially in the last few seasons.
Mom told them about the challenges in the regular world—how girls didn’t always have equal rights or opportunities, but that in the last few seasons, that was changing, too.
They all agreed that fairy godmothers still had a ton of work to do. “I’m so glad that you understand that all girls are princesses—that everyone deserves happily ever after. And that it looks different to everyone.”
Then she asked Grandmomma if she could borrow her wand. She had a wish to grant.
Of course Grandmomma said yes.
But as the room filled with light blue sparkles, Isabelle pointed to the clock.
“Nora’s about to take the stage!”
Hannah gasped. “My treats!”
“I’ll get us to the school,” Clotilda said. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy!”
Lickety-split, they flew to the school. (Not literally, of course. But as fast as sparkles could get them.)
They were just in time, too.
Survival of the Sparkliest! Page 7