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was up and at my door before I had opened my eyes. When I had finally laid my head on the fluffy pillow last night, I had turned and gazed at myself in the wall mirror. The bed was so large, I looked even smaller than I was. It made me laugh. But it was so comfortable, the most comfortable bed I had ever slept in, and all the linen smelled fresh and brand-new. The next thing I knew, it was morning.
    "Rise and shine, rise and shine," Celine sang as she wheeled herself into my room. "We have a great deal to do today, Janet."
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and sat up. "Oh, you slept in your underwear!" she cried.
    "Don't you have a nightie?"
"No," I said.
"How do they send you out into the world
    without a nightie? Up, up, up. Get washed and dressed and come down to breakfast in fifteen minutes. We're off to the shops," she said with a sweep of her hand. Then she turned and wheeled out of my room.
    I hurried to do what she asked, and in ten minutes, I was on my way down the stairs. Sanford was already dressed in his jacket and tie and sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper.
    "Mildred," Celine called as soon as I set foot in the dining room.
Mildred came from the kitchen carrying a tray with orange juice, buttered toast, and a poached egg. I had never had a poached egg before. I stared at it all when it was set before me.
"You start your diet today," Celine explained when she saw my curious expression.
"Diet?" I had never been accused of being overweight. Everyone always thought I was underdeveloped. "But I don't weigh a lot," I said.
Celine laughed.
"Diet isn't something you watch just to lose weight. Diet in this case means eating properly. A dancer is an athlete and has to eat and live like one, Janet," Celine explained. "Go on, eat," she ordered.
Sanford lowered his paper and gave me a sympathetic smile as I drank my juice.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
Celine leaned toward me to whisper, "Daddy."
"Yes, Daddy," I corrected.
"Good," Sanford said. "Good." He returned to his paper while Celine went on about our schedule.
"I have appointments arranged at the shoe store for your pointe shoes, and then we'll go to the shop where I will get you your dancing outfits. After that we'll go to the department store and get you some more clothes, regular shoes, undergarments, and a nice jacket for you to wear," she cataloged. "Oh, and a nightie "
"What about school?" I asked between bites. I couldn't help thinking about what it was going to be like to have new teachers and meet new children my age.
"School can wait another day," she declared. "I'm sure you're a very good student and it won't take you very long to catch up."
I was a good student, but I was still surprised at how confident she was about my abilities. Sanford folded his paper, sipped his coffee, and nodded.
"After that, we'll swing by the factory," he added.
"If we have time," Celine corrected.
I had barely swallowed my last bite of breakfast when she pushed away from the table and declared I should go brush my teeth and "Do your bathroom business." We were to meet at the front door in ten minutes.
Everything was ten minutes, five minutes. For a woman in a wheelchair, she had an unbelievable amount of energy. Rushing up the stairs, I thought I had been woken to participate in some sort of marathon, but I was afraid to utter a single syllable of complaint. Sanford seemed very happy about Celine's excitement and energy and they wanted to do so much for me.
By the time I returned, Celine was already in the car waiting. Sanford was just putting her wheelchair in the trunk.
"Hurry," she called. "I want to get everything done in one day."
I ran to the car and got in. Moments later, we were off.
"Getting the proper pointe shoes is paramount to success as a dancer," Celine lectured as we drove along. "In ballet, maybe more than in anything, initial preparations are very, very important. Your shoes should fit like a second skin. There is no room for