Cinderella: A Retelling of an Old Classic

Can Life Ever Become Better? - Chapter 3

A few more months passed in solitude for the little family and during this time of sorrow many happy moments were shared and memories that would be looked on with great fondness were created.

Little Adela did not truly understand what was happening but she knew that her life would never be the same once the dreaded event occured. And it did occure one night.

She remembered that it was a night like any other. The summer rays of the sun beaming on the grass all day had created a lingering smell of grass and flowers that permeated the twilight. The stars were just beginning to wink into the sky and the day had been a long, tiring one for the little girl. She had not seen her mother for more than a few minutes before she had been ushered away into another room and far from her dear mother's side.

She had had time enough to tell her that she loved her and Adela's mother said something that she never forgot.

"Don't forget the magic of a kind look, a gentle touch, and a strong heart my darling. Mother loves you to stars and back."
And the stars were what Adela was gazing at when her father came up behind her and broke the news. Their beloved wife and mother was no more.

Things were of course, very difficult for the little girl and her grieving father. They had so much they wanted to tell her and she was no longer available to them. But time has a way of lessening griefs sting and so it was that the days went by and months passed and Adella began viewing her mother as a beautiful dream that was just now awakening from.

Her father's grief was much longer sustained and Adella was never quite certain that he stopped feeling the pain of his loss but it became less and less apparent as time went on. The pair soon developed a unique and special bond. One that was difficult to understand for those that had not lost a loved one and those that had never felt despair or grief. Adela and her father were seldom seen seperate and the villagers often watched the two walking in the dusk or early morning.

Adela was extremely fond of horses and her father taught her to ride at an early age. She excelled at this particular activity and her father could not have been more proud of his little darling than when he saw her soundly outrace an older more experienced rider.

Her own horse was a present from her father on her seventeenth birthday and was more delighted by that than if he had given her an entire trunkful full of beautiful dresses. Not that she didn't love lacey gowns and pretty materials but there was nothing quite like riding your heart out on a worthy steed and feeling the wind blowing through your hair.

There was one evening of great significance in Adela's life that must be touched upon if this story is to ever be written.

Her father had just returned from one of his longer trading routes and was sitting by the fire watching his lovely daughter embroider one of her stockings with pink wildflowers. She had grown to be the picture of her mother and he could not help but wonder if he had not done something wrong in not providing another maternal figure in her life. This question had been troubling him for many months now and he had finally decided upon a solution.

"Adela my pet, can I ask you something?" her father asked quietly staring into the fire.

"Of course, " she replied but did not look up from her needle work.

"If there were someone in the house that you could go to and talk about certain things with would you do it?" he asked hurridly.

Adela looked up with a puzzled look on her face. "I do have someone that I talk to all the time father if thats what you mean. Its you." she went on with her work.

"No, no dear thats not what I meant at all. I was thinking particularly about questions of a more feminine quality." he replied sounding flustered.

That arrested her attention. Whatever her father could be flustered was never used to describe him. She set aside her work and gave him her full attention much to the chagrin of her floundering father.

"Father, I talk to you about everything. If there is something I need to ask that pertains more particularly to a women I have always asked Betsy or cook. They always tell me what I need to know."
"Yes, but what if you had someone you could ask such questions and converse with in your own family?"

"I think that would be wonderful!" Adela answered quickly and jubilantly.

Her father was startled by her seeming joy. He had not expected such acceptance of his rather delicate idea.

"I didn't think mother had a sister, did she? Could she come to live with us here?" Adela asked excitedly certain she had hit upon what her father was trying to desperately to communicate. She was surprised to see him suddenly sink back into his chair with a look of growing desperation marring his features.

"No, no dear, that is not what I meant at all. Your mother had no sister and neither do I. I was thinking perhaps I could ask another women to come live with us."

Adela was quite surprised. "Who father?"
"Well, I met a woman on one of my travels that was very fine and she promised me she would come to live with us if I asked her to do so." Her father explained still treading delicately around the subject her desperately hoped his daughter would catch onto.

She looked at him gravely and replied, "Father I love you dearly and I would have no scruples about such things but wouldn't the villages gossip dreadfully?"
"Why should they?"

Now it was her turn to be flustered. "Well father, I am not very adept at explaining such things but it seems to me that an unmarried man and an unmarried women should not be living in the same close quarters. It could provoke very cruel talk and I don't think...."

Here her father interrupted her with a look of horror on his face. " Oh no!" He said hurredly. "I meant nothing of the sort! I fully intended to wed her before she entered this house!"