Chapter 8
White Mary Janes with Little Heels

It turns out that when you move you get very busy going to new doctors and dentists and orthodontists. Finally Erin had a free afternoon, and we got to schedule a playdate. While we waited for her mom to pick us up after school, she told me we had to be a little sly about her possibly wicked stepsisters.

“My mom is tired of answering questions about them,” she said.

“I know all about moms getting sick and tired of talking about things,” I said. “We have two subjects that are strictly off-limits at our house: getting a dog and getting my ears pierced.”

“There’s my mom,” said Erin when a periwinkle blue Beetle bug car pulled up to the curb.

“You must be Cinderella,” her mom said.

“Yep.” I held out my hand.

She reached her hand right out the window, and I gave it a good shake, with a good grip, like my dad showed me. Nobody likes a limp-noodle hand.

“This is a very cute car,” I said, making polite conversation.

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“It’s also in my favorite color,” I said.

“It’s in my favorite color too,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The girls will be wearing periwinkle blue dresses in the wedding.”

“Cool!” I said. “I wish I could see them.”

“You can,” said Mrs. Devlin. “The dresses arrived last week.”

“I tried mine on right away,” said Erin.

“And she looked very cute,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Now we just have to hope that Anna and Julia will look as good.”

My ears perked up because I figured I knew who Anna and Julia were. I also figured, since Mrs. Devlin started it, I could ask a few questions. I pulled the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK out of my backpack. “Who are Anna and Julia?”

“They’re Erin’s soon-to-be stepsisters,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“Those are nice names,” I said.

“They are,” said Mrs. Devlin, but then she didn’t say any more.

“I have a sister,” I said, trying to stick to the subject at hand. “Her name is Tess.”

“That’s a nice name too,” said Mrs. Devlin.

“If she was a boy she was going to be named Chester,” I said. “That always makes me think of The Cricket in Times Square. And that cricket could be very loud sometimes, like sisters,” I said.

Mrs. Devlin laughed.

I waited a second, but she didn’t say anything else. I wrote Maybe loud on the POSSIBLY WICKED page.

“Here we are,” said Mrs. Devlin.

We jumped out of the car, and she opened up the trunk to get the groceries.

“Your car even has a cute trunk,” I said.

“It’s small,” she said. “We’ll have to use a bigger car to pick people up from the airport.”

“I see,” I said.

“I bet you girls would like a snack,” she said. “Why don’t you show Cinderella your room, and I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

I followed Erin upstairs. There were different stripes of color on one wall and boxes everywhere. “I’m still unpacking,” she said, “and picking out a paint color.”

“I wish I could change my room color. It’s still light yellow from when I was a baby.” I plopped down on her mattress, which was right on the floor, and kicked off my shoes. I opened my notebook. I wrote Maybe lots of luggage before I forgot.

She plopped down next to me. “What did you write?”

“I wrote ‘Maybe lots of luggage’ on the POSSIBLY WICKED page,” I said. “They might be bringing a ton on account of needing a bigger car to pick them up from the airport.

“Luggage is wicked?” she asked.

“Not regular amounts of luggage, but loads of it are,” I said. “Also, your mom didn’t say if they’re loud or not, so that means they could be.”

“I guess they could,” she said.

“So that goes on the POSSIBLY WICKED page.”

Erin scrunched her eyebrows together and got all quiet.

“What’s up?” I’d figured out that scrunched eyebrows meant she was thinking hard.

“I’m kind of loud,” she said.

“Me too!” I said kind of loud. Then I got a big idea and so I said a big AHA!

“‘AHA!’ what?” she asked.

“AHA! You’re going to be a stepsister too!” I said. “We should put you in this notebook.”

She scrunched her eyes almost closed and smiled. “Let’s start.”

I wrote on the FOR-SURE WICKED page: Erin=Kind of loud.

“Snack’s ready!” Mrs. Devlin called.

“BE RIGHT THERE!” Erin yelled at the top of her lungs.

A big bowl of popcorn and glasses of lemonade were waiting on the counter for us.

I tossed a kernel up in the air and caught it in my mouth. “My record is eight in a row. I want to beat the world record, but I’m not sure what it is.”

Erin tossed a kernel up, but it hit her chin. “I’m terrible at this.” She tossed another one up, and it bounced off her cheek.

When the fifth one landed on the floor, Mrs. Devlin said “Erin” very serious.

“If you have a rule about no playing with food,” I said, “I started it.”

“It’s not a rule,” said Mrs. Devlin. “I just don’t like to waste too many.”

“You don’t have the law of three seconds here?” I asked.

“What’s the law of three seconds?” asked Erin.

“Scientists studied how fast things that fall on the ground pick up germs,” I said. “If you pick up food before three seconds, it’s just fine to eat it.”

“I’ll have to think about that one,” said Mrs. Devlin. “Are you going to show Cinderella your dress?”

“Sure!” We ran back upstairs to Erin’s room.

Erin opened her closet. There were so many clothes on so many hangers that everything was all squashed together.

“Your closet is packed full to bursting!” I said.

“I collect T-shirts,” said Erin. “They’re my favorite thing to wear, but I was afraid it would be too rainy and cold to wear them now.”

“Everyone thinks that about Seattle,” I said. “But it’s nice in the fall at least until Halloween. Then it starts to rain.”

“Do you get wet when you trick-or-treat?” asked Erin.

“Sometimes.” I looked through her T-shirts. “AHA!” I said.

“‘AHA!’ what?” Erin asked.

“You have lots of clothes.” I picked up the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK and wrote Erin=Lots of clothes on the FOR-SURE WICKED page.

“I have an AHA! too!” said Erin. “I’m lazy. Look at all this stuff I still have to unpack!”

“‘AHA!’ is right!” I wrote: Erin=Lazy on the FOR-SURE WICKED page.

“Here’s my dress for the wedding.” She pulled the periwinkle dress out of the closet. It was long and slippery soft and shiny.

“It’s very pretty,” I said.

“I guess so,” said Erin. “I don’t really like dresses, though, and this goes all the way to the floor. These are the shoes.” They were white Mary Janes with little heels. “I have to be careful not to trip. Want to see Anna’s and Julia’s?”

“Definitely,” I said.

“Follow me,” said Erin.

“They’re in the guest room.”

I followed Erin to the room next door carrying the WICKED STEPSISTERS NOTEBOOK. “The first thing is that the closet is very big,” I said. “So writing ‘Maybe lots of luggage’ on their POSSIBLY WICKED page was probably right.”

“When I went to Disneyland last year, my mom and I were going to share a suitcase,” said Erin. “We had too much stuff, though, so we each had to bring our own.”

“Good remembering.” I wrote: Erin=Lots of luggage on the FOR-SURE WICKED page. “The next thing is that that is a very big mirror on that closet door. That probably means they like to stare at themselves a ton.” I wrote: Mirror-starers on the stepsisters’ POSSIBLY WICKED page. “Do you look at yourself a lot?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said.

“I have been lately,” I said, “because I’m trying to learn to raise one of my eyebrows at a time like my mom.”

We both stared in the mirror and made weird faces at each other.

“Cinderella, your mom’s here!” called Mrs. Devlin.

“I’ll be right there,” I called back. “Start paying attention to if you look in the mirror a lot.”

“Okay,” said Erin.

We headed out of the guest room to the stairs.

“Don’t forget your shoes,” said Erin.

“Oops,” I said. “Thanks.”