If the Shoe Fits

by E. J. Noyes

  “It’s a really wonderful destination. Magnificent views. I’m so glad you made it.”

  “Same. Sorry it took me a little longer.” She grinned. “I told you I’m a slow driver. But I’m here now so we can drive on together.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say, because the feeling was so strong that a simple me too wouldn’t suffice. So I did the only thing I could do. I pressed myself against her, pushing her until her back hit the stable wall and she let out a little squeak. Then I kissed her. I kissed her like I’d missed her so much it felt physical. And I kissed her like she’d just told me she basically wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together, make a family, together.

  So all in all, it was a rather nice kiss.

  I leaned my forehead against hers, lightly kissed her nose. “I love you. And fair warning, when, or if all of this happens, my mom is going to freak out.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Uh, let’s revisit that idea once you’ve seen what her freaking out looks like.” I laughed. “We’re totally going to U-Haul, right? This is a massive toaster oven moment.”

  “Have you been on lesbian dictionary dot com again, babe?”

  “Well how else will I learn?”

  “I’ll teach you, the way I have with everything else.”

  “Jana! Brooke!” Mike called through the open barn door. “Fair warning to um, get dressed or whatever.”

  “We’re dressed!” I shot back.

  “Phew.” His head appeared around the door. “That could have been weird. Sorry to interrupt…whatever important thing that seems to be happening here but your mom is looking for you for that speech. She’s…you know.”

  Yeah, I did know. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Brooke took my hand. “Come on, I’m very much looking forward to hearing this speech.”

  “We’ll talk more later?”

  “You bet.” She kissed me lightly. Not an earth-shattering, go weak at the knees kiss. But it was the sweetest kiss for what it promised. The future.

  The dance floor had cleared, with everyone in a semicircle around the raised stage, glasses in their hands. The DJ handed me champagne and a microphone. Serious business. I stepped up, glanced around and just started talking. “Hi, sorry I haven’t prepared anything. Because this is technically a casual not-wedding, everyone told me there would be no speeches.” I stared pointedly at Sabine, who raised both hands and shrugged, then shifted my attention away from her to peer around the marquee filled with people. “In case any of you don’t know who I am—in which case I’m offended—I’m Jana, Sabine’s younger, smarter, better-looking sister.”

  “Lies!” Sabine called.

  The crowed tittered.

  “Okay, maybe not smarter. But definitely the other two.” I cleared my throat, desperately trying to think of what to say. “When I was five, a girl in my grade asked me if I wanted to be her best friend. She had the best dolls, prettiest hair ribbons and really great lunches that she said she’d share with me. But I told her I couldn’t be her best friend because I already had a best friend and I’d had her from when I, and I quote, got borned.”

  Everyone laughed and I waited until they’d settled before continuing, “Sabine, I’m so blessed, so…honored to have you as my sister. My best friend. My champion. I love you so much. You’ve taught me so many things, but I think the greatest lesson I’ve learned from you is about love.”

  My voice cracked and I had to clamp my back teeth together and pause a moment before I could continue. “I used to think having a sister, my sister was one of the best things in the world. I recently realized that wasn’t exactly true. Having my sister give me another sister is one of the best things in the world. Bec, I love you. Thank you for being the second sister I never knew I wanted, but now know that I need. When I first saw the way Sabs looked at you, like she could finally breathe again, I knew that everything would be okay. I’m not going to do the welcome to the family speech, because you’ve been part of it from the moment you took my sister’s hand.”

  “Hear hear!” whooped Dad, and again I had to wait for the applause to die down.

  “So all I’ll say is congratulations and may your lives together be eternally fulfilling. To Sabine and Rebecca.” I raised my glass, finding Brooke in the crowd. Eyes locked with hers, I finished my toast. “To love.”

  Brooke raised her champagne flute, mouthed I love you and drank.

  The crowd split as Steve Winwood’s “Higher Love” began to play, and I caught Sabs’s nose wrinkle before Bec laughed and pulled her onto the dance floor. They’d mutually agreed on this eighties flashback song for their official couple dance, though Sabine had grumbled, “Do we have to dance by ourselves for the whole song, with people just staring at us? That’s always so awkward at weddings and I’ve only been the starer, not the staree.”

  So I stared at Sabine, mostly because I knew how annoyed it would make her. She managed to discreetly give me the finger without moving her hand from Bec’s back. When they reached the point in the song where the DJ announced that people should join the happy couple on the dance floor, I slipped through the crowd to find Brooke. On my way I was accosted in turn by my maternal grandparents, a friend of Bec’s, one of the guys Sabine had been in the car with during The Incident and his wife, and what felt like a hundred people wanting to tell me how lovely my speech was.

  By the time I’d finished talking, Brooke had moved on and was sitting with Oma at one of the small tables. I collected some wedding cupcakes, a fork and a half glass of white wine. I could hear Oma talking very, very slowly in German and caught part of the conversation about babies. I groaned inwardly—not you too, Oma.

  I bent down and kissed my grandmother’s forehead, then set the plate with two cupcakes on the table in front of her. “English please, Oma. And enough with the great-grandkids talk, please. You’re as bad as Mom.”

  Oma raised a forefinger in protest, but as asked, switched to English. “Your Brooke was talking to me in German. I was being polite by doing the same.”

  “Mmm.” I handed her the glass of wine. “And I’m sure Brooke was being polite speaking German to you.” Brooke knowing German was a fact she had somehow avoided mentioning.

  Brooke laughed. “I think speaking German is a generous term. I’m really not very good.”

  Oma leaned forward and cupped Brooke’s chin the way she did with all of us when she was pleased. “You are excellent.” She leaned close to kiss Brooke’s temple then settled back and asked me, “Where is your Opa?”

  “Dancing with Sabine.” I glanced at Brooke who’d lowered her head and was blinking rapidly. Bless her.

  “Wonderful. He will be out of my hair for at least fifteen minutes so I can enjoy my cake and wine in peace.” Oma made a small shooing motion. “You two, you should dance also.”

  I knew my scheming Oma well enough to know she wasn’t being rude, nor did she really want to sit alone and eat her cake. She wanted Brooke and me to enjoy time together. I held out my hand to Brooke. “Care to dance?”

  “Yes.” She stood, then leaned close to Oma. “May I come back to talk with you again, Mrs. Fleischer?”

  Oma reached up to squeeze Brooke’s wrist. “I already told you, please call me Johanna. And yes, I would enjoy that very much.” Oma winked at me. “Auf Deutsch.”

  I mock scowled at her as she smiled cheekily at me, speared some cupcake and waved at us with it.

  Brooke smiled, shaking her head almost in disbelief. “Your family is so great.”

  “So great at pushing my buttons you mean.” I held her close as we moved around the dance floor. “You didn’t tell me you spoke German.”

  “I don’t really.” She grinned. “Mostly it’s what I remember from high school, but I started an online brush-up course.” She twirled me expertly.

  “Why?”

  “Because even though you minimized it, German seemed important to you and to your family,” she said s
eriously.

  It kind of was, because everything family was important to me. “You did that for me? For my grandparents?” Even though I’d told her that both my paternal grandparents spoke English as well as any native speaker, she’d still done it.

  “Mhmm.”

  “You’re amazing. Don’t tell Sabs, she’ll never leave you alone.”

  Brooke burst into laughter, looking so beautiful and vibrant that I didn’t care that we were in the middle of a crowd of my relatives and Sabine and Bec’s friends, or that we might create an obstacle. I pulled her closer, and with my arms around her neck gave her a long slow kiss. “Why are you so amazing? Sabs and Bec think you’re wonderful. My parents are completely smitten. You’ve won over Oma and Opa. Grandma and Grandpa nabbed me before to tell me how sweet you are and how you talked about rescue cats and golf with them. How’d you do all that?” She’d taken everything I’d told her about my family and almost turned it into a personal interaction project. She’d done all that, despite the fact I knew it would have made her anxious.

  “Just my natural, effortless charm.” She grinned. “Worked on you, didn’t it?”

  “It sure did. Thank you, seriously. Thank you for wanting to be part of my family. They’re important to me and I know how hard being with new people can be for you.”

  She kissed my nose. “I know, sweetheart. And you don’t need to thank me, everyone is so great and welcoming. I want to fit in with your family, with your life.”

  For what felt like the hundredth time that day, I felt tears threatening. My voice was tight when I asked, “Is all lesbian stuff such a cliché?”

  She laughed. “Jana, I think love is one great big cliché.”

  My father’s deep voice came from over my shoulder, slightly gruff as it always was when he was emotional. Welcome to the club, Dad. “Excuse me, may I cut in?”

  Brooke released her hold, though she kept a hand on the small of my back. “Absolutely. You’ll have to save a dance for me, Mr. Fleischer. Jana told me you’re an expert foxtrotter.”

  Dad straightened, a hand resting flat on his belt buckle, his chest puffed out. “Why yes I am. And please call me Gerhardt.”

  “All right, then. Gerhardt. I took dance classes while studying in Paris and you know I just haven’t been able to find myself a decent partner back here.” She side-eyed me, barely restraining her teasing smile.

  “Well I’d be delighted to take you for a twirl, if Jana can organize some music.”

  “I look forward to it, and I’m certain she can.” Brooke softly kissed the edge of my mouth and with a final charm the socks off smile at my dad, let us be.

  Dad offered his hand. “Ready to make your old man look good?”

  “Always.” I settled my hand on his shoulder. “Still think she’s boring?” I asked sweetly.

  “I never said that, Jana,” he rebutted, barely managing to withhold his manic grin. “I said her job was boring.”

  “That’s not the way I recall the conversation.” With our joined hands, I nudged him in the ribs until he grunted.

  “Hush, you.” Dad pulled me in for a hug, managing to keep us moving around the dance floor as he did so. After an extravagant twirl, he pulled back, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so proud of you and your sister, you know that right? You’ve always made such good choices, Jana. You’re smart and caring and compassionate, and now you’ve found someone who sees all the things your mom and I have known your entire life.”

  “Dad, stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”

  He sniffed. “Good. Then I won’t be the only one.”

  We talked quietly as Dad guided me around the floor and as the music finished, he relinquished his hold and led me to the edge where Brooke waited, talking to one of my cousins. Dad opened his arms to her and she stepped in for a hug. Keeping his hands on her shoulders, he warned, “I’ll find you later for that foxtrot. I’m not going to forget.”

  She laughed with genuine pleasure. “I look forward to it.”

  He thumbed her cheek, grinned his naughty-little-kid grin at her, then left us.

  Brooke took my hand. “Shall we?”

  We danced for another twenty minutes, rotating through rock, pop, and a slow ballad where we held each other and moved slowly around the floor. We didn’t talk, just enjoyed each other. Around us, couples were doing the same, including Sabs and Bec who were talking quietly, both of their faces so bright they could have lit Earth in the sun’s place.

  Brooke broke first, leaning in to ask, “Can we take a break for a few minutes? I need a drink and to rest my feet.”

  We sat under the sycamore, provisioned with champagne, water and a bunch of cupcakes. A few people passed by and said hello, greeting Brooke by name and I felt a little warm glow. Once we were satisfactorily fed, hydrated and champagned, I asked, “Ready to get back out there and show them how it’s done?”

  Brooke’s answer was to kiss me swiftly, but not softly, then lead me to the dance floor. As I stepped up onto the wooden platform, my foot caught and turned over, followed by the unmistakable sensation of my heel breaking. “Oh you are fucking kidding me. Again?” Grasping Brooke’s hand tightly for balance, I tried to bend down to take the shoe off and only succeeded in nearly pulling us both over.

  Laughing, Brooke told me to, “Stand still.” Once I’d stopped doing an impersonation of someone on hot coals, she crouched in front of me and carefully angled the broken heel off. “Why, Cinderella, I feel like this is becoming a habit.” She slipped the non-broken heel from my other foot then stood with both shoes dangling from her fingertips. “Are you going to blame me for this one too?” she asked dryly.

  “What’s that saying? If the shoe fits…” Aware of the height difference that matched our first meeting, I rested a hand on her waist and stretched up to murmur in her ear, “I am going to blame you for making me the happiest, most in-love girl at the ball.”

  “Jana, we’re at your sister’s wedding. Do you think maybe Sabine and Rebecca get dibs on being the happiest gals at the ball?” Brooke slipped out of her heels so we were level, and placed both pairs on the grass at the edge of the dance floor.

  Pulling her onto the dance floor, I quietly disagreed, “Nope, because I get you. Cinderella has her very own princess.”

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