Page 250 of Naughty Nelle

Her sage eyes glisten. Winnie and her family have obviously put the past behind them.

“I’d love to,” I say and switch subjects again. “So, Elz, how’s life in the shoe biz?”

“Crazy busy!” She launches into her story.

“When I got there, the store was going out of business. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, women can never have enough shoes, right? Customers complained the shoes weren’t fitting properly. They were either too big or too small. And they didn’t care for the dated styles.”

Winnie takes over. “So, Elz started to design fashion forward shoes and worked with John to perfect the fit. He developed a new concept—half sizes—for those in-between feet.”

Elz continues. “I begged the owner to let me give the store a makeover and stock it with our chic, comfy shoes. I came up with a new name—The Glass Slipper—and John came up with the catchy motto ‘For the Perfect Fit Shoe.’ Within twenty-four hours, we were sold out.”

“John is now Elz’s business partner,” adds Winnie, proudly. “He also thought of the see-through glass boxes. It makes it a lot easier to find your shoes, especially when you have hundreds of them. And they help preserve them.”

Little glass coffins. Like the glass coffin the dwarfs built to watch over Snow White. I shudder and take another swig of beer.

“You’ll never guess who came in!” exclaims Elz.

My heart stands still. I bet she’s going to say Snow White!

“Cinderella!”

“No way!” I say, relieved.

“See, Jane, it’s all meant to be,” says Winnie.

“I told her how sorry I was about being so mean to her. She couldn’t have been nicer. She was even sorry to hear about my mother.”

Her story is getting better by the minute.

“And guess what, she was so wowed by my collection of hard-to-find Size 4 1/2 heels that she loaned me money to buy the store.”

“And her old coach,” adds Winnie.

Too bad she didn’t throw in driving lessons.

Elz pauses to slurp her beer, then tells us she has some other news. Her face lights up.

“I’m seeing Hook; we’re kind of a couple.”

I have mixed feelings about the news. Hook’s such a pompous asshole. Maybe he’s changed. Maybe.

“What’s Hook up to?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s working at an orphanage,” beams Elz. “He’s like a mother to all these poor lost boys.”

It must be that orphanage built by that Midas megalomaniac.

“What about Sasperilla?”

Elz’s face loses its glow. “I’m not sure she ever got out of Faraway. It’s weird, but I miss her.”

“Because she’s still family,” says Winnie.

Ah! Winnie’s words of wisdom.

Elz brightens and signals for another round of beers.

I guzzle mine. Elz and Winnie are so happy. Their post-rehab stints are perfect for them. Elz is using her artistic talent and has finally become her own boss, and Winnie has managed to control her eating and improve her marriage. Mine, however, in a word, sucks.

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