Cinderella reminded her of the first night she laughed after Elena died.
The party reminded her of her grandfather.
The hundreds of donated dolls reminded her of the people who had helped strangers.
When Sophie turned sixteen, she asked Gideon something.
“Do you remember the first princess?”
“Cinderella.”
“No.”
Gideon looked confused.
“The first one you bought.”
He smiled.
“I remember.”
Sophie nodded.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Gideon shrugged.
“Because you asked me to buy it.”
She smiled.
“Grandpa?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you buy all of them?”
Gideon looked at her.
“Because you stopped asking for things.”
She became quiet.
“I was afraid.”
“I know.”
“I thought if I wanted something, it meant I was forgetting Mom.”
Gideon sat beside her.
“You don't forget someone by being happy.”
Sophie looked at him.
“Really?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Your mother would want you to live.”
Sophie nodded.
She looked toward the shelves.
“Do you think she would be proud?”
Gideon smiled.
“She already was.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I knew her.”
Sophie laughed.
“That's cheating.”
“Maybe.”
She leaned against him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making me laugh again.”
Gideon looked away.
His eyes were wet.
“You did that yourself.”
Years later, Sophie was twenty-one.
She was studying to become a pediatric nurse.
Gideon was older.
His beard had turned almost completely white.
His motorcycle had more scratches.
His knees hurt.
But he still rode.
One afternoon, Sophie visited him.
She was carrying a box.
“What is that?”
She smiled.
“Something for you.”
Gideon opened it.
Inside was a princess doll.
Cinderella.
The same design.
The same blue dress.
The same smile.
He stared at it.
“Where did you find this?”
Sophie laughed.
“You bought this one for me.”
“I know.”
“I kept it.”
“So why are you giving it back?”
She smiled.
“Because I want you to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“That the dolls were never the important part.”
Gideon looked at her.
She continued.
“You thought you were buying me princesses.”
“You wanted them.”
“I did.”
“But?”
Sophie smiled.
“You bought me time.”
Gideon didn't understand.
She explained.
“You gave me something to look forward to.”
She held the doll.
“When I was grieving, I needed something beautiful.”
Gideon's eyes filled.
“You gave me that.”
She hugged him.
“You saved me.”
Gideon shook his head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He pulled back.
“You saved yourself.”
Sophie smiled.
“Maybe.”
Then she placed the doll in his hands.
“Keep it.”
Gideon stared at it.
“Why?”
“Because someday I want to give it to my daughter.”
Gideon smiled.
“That would be a long time from now.”
“I know.”
He looked at the doll.
Then at Sophie.
“Then I'll keep it safe.”
Ten years later, Gideon stood outside a hospital.
He was older now.
Seventy.
His beard was completely white.
His motorcycle had become almost legendary among the local riders.
But he still wore the same leather vest.
He still had the same enormous hands.
And he still carried a princess doll in his saddlebag.
He was waiting.
A nurse came through the doors.
“Mr. Cole?”
Gideon stood.
“Yes?”
“Your granddaughter is ready.”
He smiled.
He entered the room.
Sophie was sitting in bed.
Beside her was her newborn daughter.
Gideon stopped.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Sophie smiled.
“Grandpa.”
He walked toward her.
“She has your eyes.”
Gideon laughed.
“I hope not.”
Sophie smiled.
“What are you going to call her?”
“We haven't decided.”
Gideon looked at the baby.
She opened her tiny eyes.
He touched her hand.
“She needs a princess name.”
Sophie laughed.
“Of course you would say that.”
Gideon opened his saddlebag.
He removed the old Cinderella doll.
Sophie stared.
“You still have it.”
“I promised.”
She began crying.
Gideon smiled.
“Don't start.”
“You kept it for thirty years.”
“I keep my promises.”
She took the doll.
Then she placed it beside her daughter.
Gideon looked at the newborn.
“Your grandmother was a princess.”
Sophie nodded.
“So was your mother.”
She smiled.
“And now?”
Gideon looked at the baby.
“Now we have another one.”
Years later, the toy store where Gideon had first bought the dolls closed.
The town changed.
Buildings were demolished.
New stores appeared.
People moved away.
Children grew up.