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growth. When you put them on before practice, don't tie the drawstring too tight. You can damage your Achilles tendon. Let me see your feet," she suddenly ordered.
"My feet?"
"Yes, yes, your feet. I need to check something. I should have done it before," she muttered.
I took off my sneakers and peeled off my socks. She reached back between the seats and pulled my feet toward her and inspected my toes.
"Oh," she cried, "these toenails are too long. Didn't they teach you anything at that orphanage? You must keep your toenails short. Cut them every morning, every morning, do you hear?"
"Yes," I said, nodding.
She reached into her purse and found a nail clipper. She handed it to me and watched as I trimmed my toenails. My hands shook and I thought I might cut myself, but Celine was starting to sound angry and I wanted to please her.
"Are you sure the store will be open this early, Celine?" Sanford asked as we approached the business district.
"Of course I'm sure. I made a specific appointment. They know how important this is to me," she added, and her voice was finally calming
I put on my socks and sneakers quickly and gazed out the window as we slowed down and stopped before the specialty shop. Sanford hurried around to get Celine's wheelchair out of the trunk.
"It's such an inconvenience having to wait for that damn thing, and Sanford moves slower than a turtle," she muttered. She was so anxious to get into the store and have me fitted with pointe shoes. I wished I could be as excited about it as she was, but I felt as if I had been caught up in a whirlwind and barely had a chance to breathe. As soon as she was in her chair, she called to me. "Come on, Janet. We're late."
When we entered the store, the salesman, a short, chubby bald man with thin wire bifocals planted on his thick nose, came waddling from the rear to greet us.
"Mrs. Delorice," he said. "Good morning. It's so nice to see--"
"Here she is," Celine interrupted. "Janet, sit and take off your sneakers and socks."
The salesman nodded at Sanford.
"Mr. Delorice."
"Good morning, Charles. How have you been?" Sanford asked.
"Oh, fine, just fine."
"Please, let's concentrate," Celine demanded.
Charles frowned and squatted to study my feet. He held them in his hands as if they were jewels, gently turning them from side to side. He felt around under my toes and pressed on my heels.
"Exquisite," he said.
"She may look small to you, but she is not fragile," Celine assured him
"Oh, I can see the potential, Mrs. Delorice, yes. Let me get her fitted." He looked genuinely pleased.
He rose and headed back to the rear of the store.
"All pointe shoes are handmade," Celine explained. "There is no right or left to them, so don't be confused"
"They must cost a lot," I said. I hoped her money wouldn't be wasted
"Of course they do if they're good ones, and you must have the best. Our equipment, our dress, all of our preparations are very important for us, Janet," she said. It was the first time she had included herself and it sounded funny. It was as if she would rise out of the wheelchair and do one of her pirouettes in the shoe store.
Charles brought three pairs and tried each on my feet. Celine tested them as much as he did. She had me stand and then walk across the store.
"Very graceful young lady," Charles
commented. I was beginning to wonder if Celine was right. Maybe I could be a dancer.
"Yes, she is," Celine said, her eyes shining with excitement. "How do those feel, Janet? Remember, I want you to think of them as a second skin."
"Good, I guess," I said. I really wasn't sure. I had never worn this kind of shoe before, and I didn't know how they should feel.
"Those have Toe-Flo," Charles remarked, "the best stuff ever invented for padding."
"I don't want her to become too dependent on that. I want her feet to toughen quickly." Celine's eyes darkened.
"Oh, they will," he promised.
"We'll see. We'll take them," she concluded.
"Very good choice, Mrs. Delorice," Charles said and I could