Cinderella is a Fraud

Chapter 3: Your world is still small

“It doesn't matter."

“Fable," Charlotte slammed her thin hands onto the table, “How could you think that? You've worked so hard for your scholarship. You've always been brilliant at school. What's going on?"

“Nothing," Fable said, avoiding her worried eyes.

“Fable."

Fable stiffened from the sharpness in her words but only ate a bite of meatloaf to keep from answering.

Charlotte sighed, adjusting the crooked bandana covering her head. “Miss Forsythe said she teaches English Literature. She said you didn't turn in an important assignment so you're failing. That's not like you."

“I did turn it in," Fable protested weakly, “She just didn't like it."

“What was it about?"

“We were supposed to write an essay detailing how fairytales can teach you lessons about love in real life."

“That sounds wonderful. Why didn't she like it?" Charlotte frowned.

Fable sighed and then rustled into her bag by her side. She pulled out the assignment, marked with a giant red '40%' on the front, and slid it over to Charlotte.

As Charlotte read, her expressions kept changing, eyes widening, mouth scrunching into a line, then frowning at the piece.

As she put it down, she looked disturbed. “This is really…"

“Depressing?" Fable volunteered.

“I would've said cynical," Charlotte sighed, laying a hand across her cheek, “Is this really what you think about love? 'Love is a release of the hormone dopamine into the bloodstream triggering a rush of pleasure being around a certain person, thing, or object. Sleeping Beauty demonstrates this rush of hormones upon her first meeting with the opposite s*x, i.e' the prince.' Honey, you can't explain love with science."

Fable paused in taking a bite of her meatloaf, giving her an incredulous look. “Of course, you can. That's what it is."

“Fable, love is more than just chemicals and hormones," Charlotte scolded her, “No wonder you got a bad grade on this. You compared Beauty from Beauty and the beast to a harlot."

“No, I said she was a courtesan. She's a fancy harlot."

“You said Snow White is a statement on somnophilia!"

“At best it's somnophilia but in the original fairytale she's dead so-"

“Fable!"

“I just said it like it is," Fable huffed.

“I know your dad and I weren't the best example of a loving couple," Charlotte admitted, awkwardly, “But this is ridiculous. We did love one another. Didn't you see any of that?"

Her fork paused millimeters from her mouth. Eyes empty, Fable stared down at the table and then slowly, placed her fork down, pushing the plate away from her.

“Fable-"

She hated the pity in her stepmother's voice. Hated how sick she suddenly felt, the cold meatloaf feeling like bricks in her stomach.

“It's okay." Fable stood up, the chair screeching on the tiled floors. “This is my problem. I'll deal with it."

As Fable took her dish to the sink, scraped the rest of the meatloaf into the trash, and began to fill the sink with soapy water, the room fell into silence.

Charlotte sighed, slumping in her chair. “I know it's been hard since your Dad died. I miss him, too. So much. You've taken so much burden on your shoulders. You're working two jobs and you still have school-"

“I lost my job."

“What?" Charlotte looked up at her but Fable's back was to her.

“One too many incidents with Mr. Eades, I guess," Fable admitted quietly. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to see the disappointment.

Charlotte let out a gasp and then a sob, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh. I'll-I'll go back to work-"

“No," Fable sighed, leaning against the cupboards, “I'm going to drop out of school. If I work full-time I can still-"

“Absolutely not!"

Charlotte's anger was rare and Fable was not startled. Her nose flared as she stared down at Fable like the 95-pound woman would be able to force her to do anything.

“You are going to school and that is final." Charlotte hissed, “The girls and I will be fine. I still have little savings and we still have checks from Elodie's birth father. You will not put your future at risk to take care of us. No, Ma'am."

“Charlotte-"

“No, Ma'am," Charlotte said firmly, crossing her twig-like arms.

“What do you expect me to do? I can't resubmit that disaster-" Fable pointed at her essay, the bright red marker jarring still.

“Lucky for you I know you quite well, Fable," Charlotte snorted, sitting back down at the table. “I already called your teacher."

“You what-?" Fable slammed her palm on the table, her temper rising.

“Oh, sit down. I know you wouldn't tell me anything," Charlotte's eyes softened as she looked up at Fable, “Your world is still so small, Fable."

'Your world is quite small, Fable.'

That was the first thing Charlotte had said when they'd first met. Back when she'd still cut her hair with safety scissors and wrapped her bruised knuckles in cheap band-aids.

Fable swallowed and slid back into her chair.

“Sometimes, I wish you would just rely on me just a bit. But I know you. That's why I thought ahead this time," Charlotte sighed, “Your teacher said you have one opportunity to pass her class. They're taking a class trip in about a week. If you go, you'll pass your class."

Vaguely, she remembered something of that accord, the pink sign-up sheet being passed around the small classroom. But school trips were expensive. And they still needed to fix the leak in the bathroom ceiling.

“I know, I know. It's quite costly," Charlotte said, “But you're going no if's, and's or buts."

“But-"

“What did I just say?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

Fable fell silent, lips pursed into a thin line as she suppressed her instinct to argue.

Charlotte took a deep breath and got up from her chair with a slight stumble. Fable flinched, hands raised to help her but Charlotte steadied herself. As she searched through her purse, she said, “I know I'm not your mother and I'm not exactly reliable. But I love you, just like I do Isla or Elodie."

As she sat back down, an envelope in her hands, Charlotte's brown eyes filled with tears. She offered it up to Fable, who grabbed it confused.

“To me, you are my daughter."

Inside the envelope were hundreds of dollar bills, more than enough to pay for her school trip and more.

“Charlotte-"

Charlotte only smiled, wiggling her bare left hand. Something critical was missing on her fourth finger.

“Your wedding ring." Fable clutched the envelope, heart-thumping violently in her chest. “But it was the last thing you had of him."

“It's okay." Charlotte smiled sadly, “I still have you."

“Fable!"

The sound of Isla yelling from her room interrupted the touching moment.

Charlotte chuckled, “You better go read her a story before she drags you in there."

Fable swallowed, looking at the envelope of money and then Charlotte. Before she could offer it back, however, Charlotte had already stood up from her seat, grabbed her cane from where it leaned against the wall, and headed back to her room.

“I hope your world gets bigger."

And with those words, Her stepmother was gone.

Fable tucked the money into her backpack with a sharp pang of guilt.

Almost in a trance, she didn't realize she had reached Isla's room until the eight-year-old was calling out to her, a familiar worn book in her hands.

Tucked in bed, her hair curled into braids, she smiled brightly at Fable as she approached.

“Hey, little bug," Fable's voice was hoarse, thick with emotion as she climbed into bed next to Isla, scooting her nearer to the wall.

Isla just handed over the book silently.

“Cinderella? You really like this one, don't you?" Fable chuckled, opening the well-loved book to the first page.

“Do you think you'll marry a handsome prince like her?" Isla asked quietly, whispering into the crook of Fable's elbow.

Fable paused, as the hopeful little girl looked up at her.

“I don't think so, little bug," Fable said honestly, “Not many people marry princes these days."

“If anyone deserves to, it's you." Isla responded, snuggling into her side, “but…"

Seeing the hesitance on the little girl's face, Fable asked, “What, bug?"

“When he comes to sweep you off your feet," Isla bit her lip, looking up worriedly, “promise you won't forget us?"

Fable's heart ached. As Isla shifted in bed, the cold metal of her heart monitor pressed into Fable's thin shirt. Fable shut her eyes for a moment and then smiled down at her stepsister.

“Never," Fable promised.