If the Shoe Fits

by E. J. Noyes

  I leaned close to Brooke. “Tell her to fuck off if you don’t want to help. I do.”

  “Regularly,” Sabs confirmed cheerfully.

  Brooke laughed, kissed me lightly on the cheek and followed my sister into the kitchen.

  Brooke and Sabs stayed inside working on salad and burger patties while Bec and I milled around on their back deck—her cleaning the grill and me setting their outdoor table. The lingering heat and humidity had driven us to eat outside in the hope of a breeze, yet to arrive. Satisfied I was done, I went to Bec. “Need a hand?”

  Bec glanced up from the grill, her smile already in place. “Almost done. Stay and talk to me while I finish up. We haven’t had much of a chance to chat lately. How’re things with Brooke?”

  I snuck a peek at the kitchen window, through which I could hear Brooke and Sabine’s quiet easy chatter. “Everything’s great.”

  “Wonderful. I’m so pleased for you, Jana. Really.”

  “Me too.”

  Bec wiped the grill plate a final time then closed the lid. She folded her arms over her breasts, a knowing smile teasing at her mouth. “You’ve been staring at the kitchen the whole time you’ve been out here. Are you worried your sister is going to tell some embarrassing childhood story?”

  I laughed. “Oh I know she will. I guess I’m more worried about Brooke being comfortable even though I know Sabs isn’t particularly scary.”

  Rebecca flashed her dimples. “No, scary is one thing she’s not. She’s been nervous all week about having Brooke here, about making sure she feels like part of the family.”

  “Really? Already? We haven’t even been dating for a week.”

  “Yes already.” Bec slid an arm around my waist and squeezed me gently. “Sabine saw it right away. And I’ve only seen you two together for a short time and I can already tell how you feel.”

  “How’s that?”

  Bec winked, squeezed me again then slipped back into the house, leaving me alone to ponder exactly what she meant. Exactly what she’d seen between Brooke and me. My pondering was cut short by the doorbell and Sabine’s call through the kitchen window, “Can you grab that please, Jannie? Bec’s gone upstairs and I’m up to my elbows in hamburger.”

  I swung the front door open but before I could say hi, Mitch exclaimed, “The M ’n’ Ms are here!” He grinned. “Hello, my sugar pie.” Six-foot-three inches of burly-bear Mitch stepped inside, picked me up and swung me around—his usual greeting.

  I’d been nineteen when we’d first met and of course had had a massive crush on him. The man really was ridiculously handsome in a chiseled, all-American kind of way, and when you added that Texan drawl… Then I found out I had less than a snowball’s chance in hell and moved him into the brother category. It hadn’t taken long for him to feel like a blood relative. The guy was an utter sweetheart.

  On my second circuit in Mitch’s arms, I spotted Mike standing in the doorway, waiting for his overly-demonstrative boyfriend to finish twirling me. Smiling, he shuffled the two plastic cake containers in the crook of his arm so he could wave. Mike was a sweet, soft-spoken man with a wicked sense of humor and a love of baking—a good thing, given he’d opened his own specialty cake store after leaving the Army six months ago. Oh, and also an utter sweetheart.

  “I thought I was your sugar pie,” Sabine said dryly. She slipped past to kiss Mike’s smooth cheek. “Hello, hon. Can I take any of that?”

  “Nope, I’ve got it, thanks.”

  Mitch set me down and promptly scooped up Sabs, leaving me to hug Mike. As always, he smelled of aftershave and pastries. I kissed his cheek then moved aside so Bec could greet him. I hadn’t realized until then what a round-robin greetings were when there were multiple couples involved. Speaking of…

  I backed up, held out my hand to Brooke who took it and stepped close beside me. I squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her. “Mitch, Mike.” I indicated the guys in turn. “This is Brooke, my, uh maybe sort of girlfriend?” Shrugging, I turned my question to her.

  “Maybe sort of girlfriend works for me.” Brooke stepped forward to greet the boys’ proffered handshakes. “Great to meet you. So…M ’n’ Ms. Which of you is peanut and which is plain?”

  Mike chuckled. “Good one.”

  Mitch burst into his deep belly laugh. “You know, nobody has ever made that joke before. Brooke, darlin’, I like you.” He leaned down. “And I think I’d have to claim myself as peanut.”

  She spread her hands wide as if surrendering. “I’m not sure if I should bite on that one.”

  Mitch’s grin was broad. “Please do,” he invited.

  She grinned back, just the faintest flush coloring her cheeks. I readied myself to step in and help her out but I didn’t need to. Brooke lowered her voice. “Truth be told, I’m not really big on plain or peanut…”

  In his typical display of personal space, what personal space? Mitch slung an arm around Brooke’s shoulders and directed her to the deck. Laughing, he told her, “You ’n’ me are gonna get along just fine. Now, let me tell you about the time Jana…”

  Dinner was accompanied by our usual raucous, ridiculous conversation. Brooke settled into the madness easily, joining the laughter, sarcasm, and teasing that was inevitable when Sabine and Mitch were together. While we cleaned up, Mike prepared halved cupcakes for us to try. Everyone gathered reverently around the table like a nativity scene, waiting for Mike to elucidate. He pointed to each one as he explained, “Okay, so we have chocolate mud cupcake with peanut-butter buttercream, mocha buttercream, and my personal favorite—the Turkish-delight frosting. Then vanilla cupcakes with plain buttercream, a really subtle mint buttercream, and chocolate cream-cheese frosting.” He exhaled. “Phew. I think that’s it, but if need be there’s still time to tweak.”

  “Marry me, Cupcake King,” Brooke said the instant he was done talking.

  “Git your own,” Mitch shot back playfully. “This one and his bakin’ are all mine.”

  She turned to me, clutched my hand and her question was almost hysterically desperate. “You’ll bake for me, won’t you?”

  “Sure. Anything and any time you want.”

  Mike offered around plates and napkins. “I’ve already started shipping your mom boxes of supplies, and I’m going to run test batches in her oven a few days before the wedding, which will of course need to be eaten, but I think I’m all set.”

  Mitch piped up. “And I’m all set to take care of the test batches.”

  Bec squeezed Mike’s bicep, stretching up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Mike. These look incredible. We’re so grateful.”

  Sabs looked like she might cry. “You’re an absolute baking rock star. Thank you so much.”

  Mike hugged her, lifting her a few inches from the ground as he kissed her temple. “You’re welcome. Anything for my best girls. Now, time for cake!”

  I started with a chocolate and peanut butter, falling into a paroxysm of ecstasy at the first mouthful. We worked our way through the samples, and everyone was in mutual agreement that Mike had outdone himself. The only comment that deviated from variations of amazing was from Sabine who thought the mint-frosted one was like eating cake after brushing her teeth.

  Working on a vanilla with chocolate cream-cheese frosting, Brooke turned her attention to Mike. “These are all fabulous. You should do this for a living.”

  His smile was bashful. “I do. My bakery, Let Them Eat Cake, just celebrated its six-month anniversary and it’s going great. We’ve had to put in a third oven, and I’m hoping to expand to another location in a few years.”

  She raised her hand a few inches. “I volunteer as taste tester any time you want.”

  “You’ll have to arm wrestle Mitch for that job.”

  Mitch, with his mouth full, just nodded.

  “I think I could take you on, if this is the prize.” She nabbed another cupcake.

  Everyone went back to quietly eating but my focus was solely on Brooke, whose eyes
were half closed, her face holding an expression of what I could only describe as complete food lust.

  “Oh my God.” She swiped her thumb through the pink Turkish-delight frosting. “Have a taste,” she murmured to me.

  I grabbed her wrist gently to take her frosting-covered thumb in my mouth. Brooke drew in a quick breath, and I purposely took a little longer than necessary to suck the frosting from her thumb, sliding my tongue over her skin to make sure I had every last morsel. “Yummy.”

  Brooke’s mouth fell open, her eyes widening. She swallowed and made a sound that was nothing more than few indistinct syllables.

  Mitch nudged me in the back. “Hey! Stop bein’ so sexy with your sister’s weddin’ cakes.” He guffawed, and everyone laughed with him, even Brooke. I made myself join in, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Brooke and the look in her eyes.

  She looked hungry. But not for cupcakes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We were two weeks out from the ceremony and Bec had gone to collect some specially ordered gift bags because Sabine insisted that everyone get a goody bag as a thank-you for coming, like we were having a kid’s party instead of a not-wedding. Sabs and I were spending our Saturday creating the name cards to tie on to said gift bags. Or rather, I was using my high-school calligraphy skills while Sabine read out names, spelled them out repeatedly and then nitpicked over my shoulder. “Is that right? That should be capital T not F.”

  “It is a T. See how there’s no line through it?” I kept writing, magnanimously resisting a dig that she should maybe get her eyes tested.

  “You sure?”

  “Could not be surer. It’s cursive calligraphy, Sabs. That’s how it looks, and you knew this when you asked me to do the cards in cursive calligraphy. I even wrote you and Bec a sample.”

  “Hungh. Okay then. And I know, I mean it looks great, just…”

  “Like calligraphy?” I finished up the card and pushed it aside to dry. The careful penmanship, something I rarely did, was giving me a wrist cramp. After wiping my fountain pen and setting it carefully down, I rolled my wrist to ease the tightness.

  My sister pounced. “Why’s your hand so sore?” She grinned. “You sure all you and Brooke have been doing is just kissing?”

  The things in reach were not things I wanted to throw, especially not in my apartment. “I’m not going to tell you anything ever again.”

  “You don’t need to tell me, Jannie. I’ve seen you two together.”

  “We haven’t had sex!” I insisted. Yet.

  “But you want to, right?” Her eyebrows were sky high. Sabs seemed unusually troubled, as though she had some stake in my enjoyment of my foray into being with a woman.

  “Yes, very much. But we’re just taking it as it co—happens. It’s only been a week, Sabs.”

  A wonderful week where we’d been inching closer and closer to the inevitable. A week where I’d learned even more about her, noticed things I hadn’t before. Things I liked. While we’d been getting to know each other as friends, I hadn’t been scrutinizing her as a potential partner, I’d just been enjoying the moments, enjoying being with her without tallying up the pros and cons and consequences of a partnership with her the way I normally would. Now in post let’s date time, I realized that I’d missed all the things that would usually bug me or strike someone off the romance list. And now that I knew about Brooke’s things, I didn’t care.

  “So, I’ll add her to the ceremony list as a last minute plus one?”

  I almost choked. “Fuck, no. I mean, yes but no. I don’t know. I think that’s a little presumptive, don’t you?”

  “Presumptive how? You have a girlfriend so why wouldn’t you bring her as your date?”

  “Because I only just have a girlfriend and asking her to come to a family event is a huge deal. Especially our family.” Our wonderful, but loud, oddly-humored, and slightly weird family.

  “Do you want her to attend?”

  “Yes I do, very much, but see reasons above. And I just don’t know how to ask her.” I turned a pleading expression on her. “Please drop it, Sabs. I don’t want to screw this up so soon by pushing her.” Especially when I knew how cautious she was about relationships.

  “Okay okay, it was just a thought. I only want you to be happy.”

  “I am. Now get me something to drink please so I can power through this batch.”

  We worked in diligent, mildly bickering productivity for another twenty minutes until the doorbell rang. Given I was working on forming a perfect k Sabs rose from the table. “I’ll get it. Probably Bec.”

  “Thanks,” I said absently.

  “Not Bec,” Sabs said, with what sounded like excessive enthusiasm.

  I looked up and found Brooke with bags of food hooked in her fingers. Bless her. She shifted her gaze from me to my sister. “I thought you guys might be hungry after all your writing.”

  I set my pen down, launched myself out of my chair and threw myself into Brooke’s arms. Her surprised gasp when I kissed her turned to a little rumble of pleasure. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I repeated goofily. “Thank you.”

  Sabine was already on her way to the kitchen. “I’ll grab some plates,” she said without turning around.

  We settled to eat on my balcony, and pretty much as soon as we were done with the deli sandwiches, Sabs unsubtly glanced at her watch. “Shit, it’s later than I thought. I promised Bec I’d…be home to…look at the, uh, gift bags.” Smooth.

  After a cheery goodbye to Brooke, Sabine wandered to the door with me in tow. She lowered her voice, though her mirth was evident. “Have a good night. I’ll come by to pick up the name cards tomorrow.” She hugged me long and tight and as she pulled back, looked over my shoulder at Brooke. “Have a good niiiiight!” Grinning, Sabs made an I’m watching you gesture.

  I turned around just in time to catch Brooke’s smiling salute in response. Practically shoving my sister out the door, I called, “Love you, drive safe. Hi to Bec.” I turned around, pressed back against the closed door. “Sorry, she’s a shithead.”

  “No she’s not. I like her a whole lot.” Brooke pushed her hands into her jeans pockets. “How many more of these card things do you have to do?”

  “Not sure. Maybe ten?”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind reading and spelling out names then I could finish them all and get Sabs out of my hair tomorrow.”

  “Done.”

  We settled easily into a routine with Brooke beside me pushing cards along the table and spelling the names like she was in a spelling bee. And she didn’t nitpick my writing, which was an added bonus.

  “Uh, Jana?” Brooke held the paper under my nose and right away I realized Sabine had penned another name at the bottom of the printed list.

  Brooke Donnelly (??)

  Oh for crying out loud. “I didn’t do that, it was her,” I blurted. “I mean, clearly you’re invited but it’s in Ohio and it’s my whole family as well as some friends of Sabs and Bec’s, but I’d really like you to come. But I’ll also have to do the maid-of-honor thing for a bit, but Mike will be there to keep you company. And I totally understand if you think it’s too soon or you just don’t want to then that’s totally and utterly fine. I’d really like you to meet my family though.”

  She’d gone silent during my explanation and I hurried to add, “I mean, I don’t want to presume or whatever about you meeting my family, but you’ve met Sabs and Bec and spent time with them and I guess—”

  As she was prone to doing, Brooke effectively silenced me with a kiss. She lingered until I was breathless, then pulled back, kissing my forehead softly. “I like that you’ve presumed.” She pushed another blank card over to me. “Brooke Donnelly. B-r-o-o-k-e.”

  I stared at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She caressed my face, swept her thumb over my cheek. “Are you going to write?”

  “Yes. Yes I am.” I penned
her name on the card and added a little heart in the bottom right corner, then carefully set it aside to dry. I couldn’t stop staring at this simple gift card, the simple gift card that symbolized so much more than just a wedding invite.

  “Looks great,” Brooke murmured.

  “It does.” I glanced at her, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly shy. “Will you stay tonight?” Everything I felt was in that question. If she stayed then we would go to bed and everything would change. No turning back.

  “Yes. I’d like to.” Brooke drew my left hand to her mouth, softly kissed my knuckles. “Just to clarify, are you asking me to stay stay?”

  “I am.”

  “Okay, good. Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” She smiled. “You look nervous.”

  Excellent poker face, Jana. “I am a little. Mostly I’m just not sure exactly what to expect.”

  The gentle smile turned to a grin. “Expect the unexpected.” Then the grin faded a little, her expression grew serious, earnest. “There’s no rules, Jana, except mutual enjoyment. Sometimes it’s quick and dirty on the couch or against a wall, and sometimes it’s hours in bed, soft and sweet and slow. It’s any way in any position you want it, until we’ve both had enough.”

  Oh help.

  She leaned over and kissed me lightly. Kissed my jaw and down my neck, her lips lingering for a few seconds before a less-than-sensuous gurgling sound came from her mouth. She pulled back. “Um, I think I just tasted ink.” Brooke’s tongue ran back and forth over her front teeth a few times, the grimace unmistakable. She leaned around, studying my neck. “Yeah, I think you touched your skin with inky fingers.”