If the Shoe Fits

by E. J. Noyes

  “That must be hard,” Brooke said gently.

  “Yeah, but it shouldn’t be because there’s never been any pressure from my family. My parents love us equally, I know that. I also know for sure my sister doesn’t think of me as being a second-rate version of her. I adore her. She’s smart and funny and athletic and kind and just…great, and she’s overcome some pretty fucking shitty things.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s mostly pressure from myself, never feeling quite good enough. Kind of like I’ve always been standing behind her instead of beside her. She did the Army thing for my family and she saves the lives of heroes every day. It’s hard to top that.”

  Brooke pulled me to a stop, then tugged my hand until I turned to face her. “Obviously I haven’t met your sister and I’m sure she’s wonderful, but you’re wonderful too. All those things you just said about Sabine? You’re all that and more, and you save lives too, just in a different way is all.”

  Her words were so earnest, so kind that I wanted to throw myself at her and hug her. I settled for a self-deprecating groan, which was nowhere near as satisfying. “Oh God, I’m sorry. This really wasn’t a pity-party-fishing-for-compliments thing, I swear. And thanks, you’re really sweet.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, the two words husky and soft.

  It was then I realized our bodies were barely inches away from touching. There wasn’t enough air between us, like the atmosphere had sucked it all out somehow. And all I could think was this was a movie moment, the one where the leads are about to kiss, and they’re standing there staring into each other’s eyes and everyone knows it’s about to happen and ever…so…slowly they lean in.

  “I like guys,” I blurted.

  Brooke let out a short laugh. “So do I.” She smiled, clearly amused.

  “No, I mean I like them as in I date them.”

  The smile widened, eyebrows raised. “That’s really great, Jana. Guys are fabulous, of course.”

  “Mhmm. I just, um wanted you to know.”

  “I did know but thank you for the reminder.” Every word sounded like she was struggling to hold back more laughter.

  “Okay then.” I cleared my throat, aware of a strange lingering disappointment layered over my other emotions. Despite what I’d just panickingly affirmed about my sexuality, I’d wanted that movie moment to continue to its inevitable conclusion. There had been undeniable anticipation that it could happen, and I’d desired the testing and teasing that comes with new romantic entanglements. And in that moment, I’d wanted all of that stuff with Brooke. I swallowed, took a shuffling step back.

  Brooke tilted her head, the amused expression turning to one of confusion. That made two of us. She tucked both hands back into her hoodie, shoulders hunching forward. “Ready to go home?”

  “Mhmm. Sure.” Ready to go home and figure out what the actual hell was going on.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sabs met me after work at one of my favorite coffee shops, just a few blocks from work and nowhere near hers. She never insisted we meet somewhere closer to her and secretly I thought she did that so one day she could shove every magnanimous thing she’d ever done—like regularly drive forty minutes out of the way to meet me for coffee—to force me into doing something huge for her. She was sneaky that way, but I already had Putting up with you planning a wedding ready as a rebuttal.

  She wound her way through the half-empty café, dumped her backpack on the chair next to me and caught me just as I was standing for a hug. “How was court today? Kick some ass?”

  “Unfortunately not. Sick judge so we had to reschedule. Now next week is busy as hell, and I have all this winning energy and nowhere to put it. Sucks.”

  “Bummer. I lost a patient today. Almost lost him last week and managed to get him stabilized again, but…today just sucked.”

  Okay, she won. I held both of her shoulders. “Sorry, Sabbie.”

  “Yeah, but it happens.” She smiled her it’ll be okay smile, the one that always made me feel it really would be okay. Sabs rummaged in her backpack. “Ready for coffee?”

  “Please. Surprise me.”

  While she went up to the counter I dealt with a work email and tried to ignore the low throbbing of a tension headache behind my eyes. Sabs returned after a few minutes, and before she sat, placed a warm hand on the back of my neck. “Have you taken something for your headache?” She massaged gently, then sat next to me.

  “No. It’s not that bad.”

  “Yeah right. You’re making the my-head-is-going-to-explode face.”

  “Am not.”

  “You are too.” Sabine’s phone vibrated and chimed with a text alert, ending our childish back-and-forth. “Bec,” she breathed. Sabs snatched up her phone like it was her last meal, texting furiously with both thumbs. She had that ridiculously goofy smile she always got whenever Bec was near or she spoke to her.

  What a sap.

  Come to think of it, I’d kind of had the same expression lately when I was near Brooke. Hmmm, oh shit oh shit. Or maybe not oh shit, maybe…so what? Brooke was a good friend who made me happy during both conscious and unconscious hours. I smothered a groan. Remember what you decided about being honest? At least to yourself. You were checking her out on the weekend, Jana, and found her very pleasing to the eye. And other parts of your body.

  The moment Sabs set her phone back down, I blurted, “You ever thought about guys, you know, sexually? Like weird dreams or anything?”

  Her smile of pleasure turned to a look of confusion. “Nope. Oh, wait. I did have a vague kinda sex dream about Robert Redford after we watched The Horse Whisperer, but midway through he turned into Kristin Scott Thomas. So I guess no.”

  “Ah, okay then.” Well shit. I was on my own.

  “Why? Something you want to tell me?”

  Way to be subtle, Jana. Why not just pass her a note saying I think I might suddenly and inexplicably be a bit gay, got any tips? “Nuh-uh, nope, just curious that’s all, seeing as you’re about to hitch yourself to Bec’s wagon for good.”

  She stared as though trying to work out exactly where I was coming from, then her face relaxed as though she’d figured it out. “I’ve checked out other women, if that’s what you’re asking, and so does Bec. I know for sure she ogles the mail lady, and with good reason. She is hot with a capital H.” Sabs made an okay symbol with thumb and forefinger. “Appreciating nice-looking humans doesn’t necessarily mean we want to drag them into our bed.”

  “No, that’s not it.” Nowhere near what I was getting at. “I was just curious, that’s all. You’ve always been so straight down the line with your preferences.”

  She grinned. “Not so straight.”

  Oh I’d walked right into that one. I swatted at her. “Ha-ha.”

  “Look, Jannie, I’m less than a month away from marrying The One, and I am so supremely fucking content that sometimes I just have to sit down and wonder how the hell I ever managed to get this lucky. I cannot wait to hitch myself to Bec’s wagon.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Holy shit. Nine minutes into a conversation and we’ve only just had our first mention of the wedding.” I leaned close, widening my eyes. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Oh…” Sabs spluttered, hands working ineffectively as she searched for a suitable comeback. Eventually she just mumbled, “Screw you.”

  I placed a hand on my breast. “I’m wounded.”

  “Whatever.” She fidgeted with the paper napkin, twisting it between her fingers. “Look, Bec kinda mentioned that maybe I was getting a little out of hand with all this ceremony shit, and now I’m trying to just let things happen as they happen and not be so, you know…”

  “So completely and utterly fucking over the top and annoying about the whole thing?” I asked dryly.

  She held up both hands. “She’s right, you’re right. You know I just want it to be perfect for us. But I talked to my shrink about it and he helped me unpack a few things, and we agreed to increase just my anx
iety meds for a short while. I took a good look at everything, checked all my notes and our spreadsheets and shit and I realized that everything really is under control and I need to trust everyone else and stop stressing and micromanaging.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I love you, stress and micromanagement and all. And I promise everything is going to be perfect.” I scoffed. “As if I’d let it be anything but. As if Bec and Mom and Dad and everyone else would let it be anything but.”

  “I know.” She inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering briefly closed. “So, what else is news?”

  “Not much. Working my ass off, trying to have some sort of a social life. I met a friend of yours on Saturday. Beth?”

  Sabine’s blink was comically slow. “Beth, shit. I haven’t seen her in a few years. She was part of the crowd when Vic and I were dating yeeears ago.” Sabs gave a mock shudder. “Thank fuck that’s all over. But Beth’s pretty great. How is she?”

  “I’d say okay, given she’s alive and seems to have all her body parts intact.”

  “Smartass. So how’d you meet her?” She peered up, smiling as the server came over with our coffee. “Thanks.”

  I murmured my thanks too and dragged the cup closer. “She plays Ultimate with Brooke, and we went out for beers after the game.”

  “Ah. I see.” Sabs frowned, turning her coffee cup around before taking a sip. “So you and Brooke are doing a lot of shit together.”

  “I guess.” I added a fake sugar to whatever coffee she’d picked for me. “It’s just nice to have someone to hang out with when you guys are working or busy or whatever.”

  “Fair enough,” she mused. “I’m glad you’ve got someone else to spend time with.”

  “Me too. Oh, and I told Brooke you were going to come watch one of her games. She seemed pretty excited.” I sipped the coffee, which was actually some flavored latte concoction. Oh boy, way too sweet. Next time, test and then add sweetener, Jana.

  “Excited to meet her friend’s sister? I mean, I know I’m fucking awesome, but still. Seems a bit weird.”

  “I don’t think so. She’s just like that. Maybe she’s curious about my family, I don’t know.”

  “Hmm, okay then.” Sabs drummed her fingers on the side of the coffee cup. “When’s their next game?”

  “Saturday, big final or something.”

  “You going?” At my nod, she added, “I’m not working so I’ll tag along.”

  “Sounds great,” I said quickly. For some reason, I wanted her to meet Brooke. Wanted her to like her, to…approve of her or something. Approve? Why? I’d never felt any need to have my sister vet my friends before.

  It took us another half hour to catch up on what’d happened since we’d spoken on the phone a few days ago. Sabine declared she had to jet because she needed to get to work, and screw night shifts and her fucked-up circadian rhythms. And, according to her—I had to get my ass home, take something for my headache, most definitely not do any work, and go to bed. She walked me to the street, where we hugged tightly, said our usual byes and love-yous before splitting off to go our separate ways.

  I let myself into my work building and headed straight for the elevator down to the parking garage. As I did every afternoon, I checked the silver paint of my car for green scratches. Nothing. Damn. Just once I wanted that asshole to be taught a lesson. The moment I settled in the driver seat, I let out a long breath, leaned my head against the headrest and I tapped out a quick text to Bec. Whatever you said to get her to calm down, THANK YOU. I’m not sure how much more I could have taken. Love you xx

  Trust me, it was for me too…  Love you too x

  * * *

  A familiar edge of my vision blurring caught my attention—the weird, almost underwater light refraction in my peripheral was a telltale sign that I was about to be whacked over the head with a migraine. Oh fuck, please no. Argh. With one hand I fumbled in my purse for a nasal spray, hoping it wasn’t too late, and with the other I quickly saved what I was working on, knowing that it probably was too late and I didn’t have long before I’d be incapacitated.

  Yep, I was too late. The background headache I’d been mostly ignoring since having coffee with Sabine the day before suddenly coalesced into a knife-boring-into-skull kind of pain, followed up with a surge of nausea so strong I only just managed to hold on to my stomach. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. Idiot, I should have known it wanted to turn into a migraine when the headache from yesterday hadn’t gone away overnight, or been dulled by my strategic doses of Advil and Tylenol all day.

  Everyone had left the office an hour ago. Fuck. I whispered a pathetic, “Help” in the hope the universe might grab the word and send it out to someone for me. Sabs and Bec were both on night shifts. Maybe I’d get lucky and catch one of them on a break. Great idea, Jana. What exactly are two busy surgeons going to do? Say, “Sorry, my sister has a migraine and your life-threatening thing has to wait while I go get her, just put your hands over that hole where your insides are coming outside and I’ll be right back”?

  Okay then, only one option left. Curl up on the floor of my office and die. I pushed my chair back and blindly fumbled my way to the floor, crawling until I reached the edge of my plastic chair mat where I lowered myself to lie in fetal position on my thick soft carpet. Though the movements were slow and cautious, I still felt each one as a delightful mix of scream-inducing pain in my head and puke-inducing grossness in my stomach.

  I concentrated on deep, slow breaths. Just lie still. It’ll pass. Eventually. Even with my eyes closed, the crystal rainbows still shimmered against a black backdrop in my vision. When everything had settled enough for me to move again, I thumbed my phone to silent and held it clutched to my chest. Fuck this shit. Stupid head. Stupid work and stupid fucking Weisman and his asshole-client stress.

  An eternity of migraine horror later, my phone vibrated. Then again and again. A call. I tapped at the screen, hoping muscle memory would get my finger in roughly the right spot to answer. Please be Sabs or Bec somehow sensing my misery and calling to help. Please please please.

  “’Lo?” I whisper-croaked.

  “Jana, it’s Brooke. Hey, sorry to bother you but one of my friends just pulled out of going to the movies tomorrow night and I already arranged tickets. Are you free?”

  “Mhmm,” I managed to get out.

  A long pause. “Are you all right? Is this a bad time?”

  My voice was a hoarse mumble. “I’m being held hostage.”

  Her voice dropped but the urgency was unmistakable. “What’s going on? Who’s there? Where are you?”

  “Office. Migraine.”

  Brooke’s voice remained quiet, but now it lacked inflection as though she was trying to be as flat and soft as she could. “Crap. Do you need help?”

  “Very much.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just…help please. If I open my eyes I’m going to puke or die.” That was as far as I could think, and I hoped she could take what little information I’d provided and figure out what might help.

  “Okay, I’m leaving home now, be there in twenty minutes. Is your office accessible or do I need to grab security?”

  “It’s open.” Because I was still working, nobody had locked the front door as they’d left and the cleaners hadn’t been in yet. Not that it would have bothered them—I’d been struck down by migraines in my office before and they’d quietly emptied my trash, skipped the vacuuming and left. “You can come through,” I whispered.

  “Sit tight. I’m on my way.”

  Sitting, or rather lying, tight was a good plan and pretty much all I was capable of. I curled up, clutched the phone to my chest and waited for my savior to arrive. Good job, universe. You really delivered. I owe you big-time.

  An indeterminate time later, the front office door opened, closed and then I heard a raised whisper of, “Jana?”

  Without moving, I said as loudly as I could, which was pathetically soft, “I’m here.” />
  “Oh, sweetheart. Let me turn off the light.” The light in front of my closed eyelids suddenly disappeared, replaced by a red haze.

  “What’s the red? Are my eyes bleeding?”

  “Red-light headlamp. It’s great for nighttime when I’m hiking and hopefully won’t affect you as much as white light.”

  “Clever,” I mumbled.

  A warm, dry hand pressed lightly against the back of my neck. “Can you sit up?”

  “Haven’t tried yet. Too scared.”

  Fingers stroked the skin of my neck. “Is there any medication I can get for you?” She kept stroking lightly.

  “Time is it?”

  “Almost eight thirty.”

  “Mm, in my bag or my drawer, a nasal spray please.”

  I could feel her moving around me, hear the quiet sound as she tried to find what I needed. She curled my fingers around the bottle. “Can you manage that on your own?”

  I was a pro at closed-eye administration and given this was only a six out of ten migraine I was still functional on a basic level. “Yes.” I fumbled, getting my bearings on the single-use spray before quickly stuffing it up my nose.

  When I was done, she took it from me, hands closing around mine. “Let me know when you want to move.”

  “Never, I never want to move…but let’s try now.” I was fairly certain that I wasn’t going to become capable of anything but doing nothing for quite some time, and there was no point in waiting. I wanted to go home to my bed so I could at least die in comfort.

  With Brooke’s supportive hands on my shoulders, I managed to get upright and stay that way because she pressed into me so I could lean. I could only imagine how graceful I looked, slumped on the floor of my office like a drunk. My disorientation was exacerbated by being voluntarily blind. But it was better than the alternative.

  Soft satin was pressed into my hands. “Here’s an eye mask. It’ll keep the light out when we leave.”