4
" You need tea and cake?"
"I'm not hungry," Cora says, following Etta upstairs.
"Oh, my dear." Etta laughs, the sound humming around her. "When is cake ever for hunger? It's for flavor and, in this case, comfort."
Behind her grandmother, Cora smiles.
They walk into the kitchen and Etta flicks on the kettle. On the counter sits a large chocolate cake, icing shining and dotted with cherries. The room is filled with the thick scent of chocolate.
"It's beautiful," Cora says. "You're the best grandma a girl could hope for."
"Hardly." Etta sets out two plates and begins cutting the cake. "Anyway, it's not that cherry pie you love so much, but it will have to do. "
― Menna van Praag , The Dress Shop of Dreams
5
" What's your name?" he asked.
She'd turned to him with a deep frown, instantly terrifying him. About to turn to escape back into the bookshop, Walt was stopped by her shrug.
"Cora."
"That's a funny name."
"It isn't, actually." Cora's frown deepened. She pulled herself up to her full height of four foot three inches. 'Officially my name is Cori, but Grandma calls me Cora. I'm named in honor of Gerty Cori, the first woman winner of the Nobel Prize in medicine. I bet you didn't know that."
"No," Walt admitted, embarrassed. "I didn't."
"What's your name?"
"Walt," he offered quietly, expecting her to retort that his was an even sillier name, but she didn't.
"After the scientist?"
Walt frowned, thrown. "What scientist?"
Cora shrugged. "Maybe Luis Walter Alvarez or Walter Reed, but... actually Walter Sutton is the most famous. He invented a theory about chromosomes and the Mendelian laws of inheritance." Cora let slip a little smile of satisfaction at the blank look on the boy's face. "Or maybe Walter Lewis-"
"No," Walt interrupted, "I've never heard of any of them."
"Oh." Cora folded her arms and tilted her nose upward. "Then who are you named after?" she asked, as if this was a given.
"Walt Whitman," he retorted. "The poet. "
― Menna van Praag , The Dress Shop of Dreams
6
" It happens the same way every time. The woman usually stands in front of the mirror for a while, turning this way and that, checking to be certain it isn't an illusion. And, when she is at last sure it's real, a blissful smile spreads into her cheeks and flushes through her whole body. In the mirror she sees herself as she truly is: beautiful, powerful, able to do anything. And she sees that the thing she wants most of all, the thing that seemed so impossible when she first stepped into the little dress shop, is really so possible, so close, that she could reach out and touch it.
"Yes," Etta says then, "as easy as pie. Speaking of which, the bookshop on the corner does the most delicious cherry pie. You really should try some."
The woman nods then, still slightly stunned, and agrees, saying that pie sounds like a perfect idea. So she stumbles out of the shop in a daze, new dress tucked tightly in her arms, and wanders down All Saints' Passage to the bookshop. There, she has the best piece of cherry pie she's ever eaten and leaves with a stack of books that will make the transformation complete. "
― Menna van Praag , The Dress Shop of Dreams
20
" Walt's father had been shopping with his son on a Sunday afternoon when he'd wandered into All Saints' Passage and found the bookshop. A silent boy, Walt still hadn't spoken, so there was no reason to think he'd be interested in reading yet. But when Walt snuck through the door, under his father's arm, he let out a gasp of delight.
He had stepped into a kingdom: an oak labyrinth of bookshelves, corridors and canyons of literature beckoning him, whispering enchanting words Walt had never heard before. The air was smoky with the scent of leather, ink and paper, caramel-rich and citrus-sharp. Walt stuck out his small tongue to taste this new flavor and grinned, sticky with excitement. And he knew, all of a sudden and deep in his soul, that this was a place he belonged more than any other. "
― Menna van Praag , The Dress Shop of Dreams
