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Dancing Shoes

Page 9

by Lynne Gentry


  Heat flushing her cheeks, she positioned herself so she could watch the door and Saul’s booth at the same time. “Just bring the coffee, would you please, Angus?”

  Angus scowled, obviously confused by her refusal to talk about what he perceived to be a wonderful evening. He wasn’t the only one. Roy sulked the entire drive back to her house because she’d been so quiet.

  “Sure thing, Miss Leona.” He shot to the drink station, returned with full hands, and approached the topic from a different direction. “You and Mister Saul sure looked like you were havin’ fun at the dance.”

  “I enjoyed the class,” she admitted, hoping he’d leave it at that.

  “No offense, but I don’t think you and Mister Roy are a good match.”

  Apparently, Angus wasn’t going to leave what happened last night alone. Why should he? It was a fairy tale moment he’d probably only seen in the movies. The sound of everyone clapping when she and Saul ended their first dance still roared in her ears. The feel of his body pressed against hers still flowed through her veins.

  But she didn’t want to discuss the differences between Roy and Saul any more than she wanted to be the topic of local gossip, so she changed the subject. “I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, Angus. You are so light on your feet.”

  “I have my MeMaw to thank for that.” He slid the menu in front of her. “She’s determined to teach me the good graces before I head off to school.” He leaned in, glanced over his shoulder, then whispered, “I didn’t have the heart to tell her college kids don’t waltz.”

  “So you got the scholarship worked out?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He set a glass of ice water on her table. “I think anyway. I’m a little confused.”

  “About what?”

  “Last week I got this letter from the dean sayin’ I didn’t get the scholarship.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from one of J.D.’s jacket pockets. “Then yesterday I got this certified letter from the very same man sayin’ I got more than a scholarship.” He handed her that letter, too. “I got my whole way paid. Room, board, tuition, books, and a five-hundred-dollar-a-month spending allowance. What do you think happened, Miss Leona?”

  Leona read anonymous contributor and her heart sank. “I don’t know.” She’d only learned about the plight of Angus’s lost scholarship last night. One of the reasons she’d asked David to meet her this morning was so that he could help her arrange something similar by funneling her money through the church. Who had taken such good care of Angus Freestone while she dreamed of dancing? She folded his mail and handed the letters back. “An unexpected blessing, for sure.”

  “Manna from heaven, MeMaw says.” His grin was as big as the lunch-special dinner plates as he stuffed the papers inside his suit pocket. He slid her coffee in front of her. “I’ll pour Mister David’s coffee when he comes. Anything else I can get while you wait?”

  The bell above the diner door jangled.

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Angus announced. “Gotcha a table over here, Mister David.”

  David strode across the diner. “Hey, Momma.” He kissed her cheek then turned to their waiter. “Angus, you owe me a game of basketball.”

  “Name the time and place.” Angus slapped down another menu. “Coffee?”

  “Only if you made it,” David teased.

  “Hint of salt. Just the way you like it,” Angus said. “You heard my good news, Mister David?”

  “Someone has gifted Angus a full ride to Abilene Christian,” Leona announced, keeping a close eye on David’s reaction.

  David’s surprised look as he clapped Angus on the back told Leona her son hadn’t used his share of the inheritance to fund Angus’s education. “Four years from now you’ll be buyin’ my breakfast.”

  Once Angus left with their orders and a promise to return with another round of coffee, Leona poked a little deeper. “You changed that boy’s life.”

  “He changed mine, Momma.” David took a sip, eyeing her carefully over the rim. “Someone else looks changed this morning. Guess I was wrong about the dancing. You obviously had fun.”

  “I did.”

  “Roxie told me Roy took you.”

  “Hell’s bells, David.” Leona jammed a fist on either side of her waist and shook her head exactly the way her best friend did. “You know you can’t believe everything that redhead says.” They both chuckled at her overdone impersonation.

  “I like Roy.” David reached for her hand. “He’s ...”

  “A lot like your father?” Saying the words out loud had a strange and sobering effect on her, an effect David picked up immediately, judging from the quirk in his brow.

  “Amazing was the word I was looking for.”

  She peeled the foil back on one of those tiny creamer cups and poured the contents into her coffee. “He’s asked me to go to Africa with him.”

  David’s face brightened. “You said yes, right?”

  “I haven’t said anything ... yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because someone I know is going to have my first grandchild.”

  “Glad to know you’re excited.”

  “Of course I am, David. But I can’t leave knowing Amy and this baby could have a rough time of it.”

  “Momma, there’ll always be a reason for you to stay,” David said. “Go to Africa if that’ll make you happy. We want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “You’re going through the motions, but the spark...it went out when Dad died and I hadn’t seen it return until Roy came to town.”

  “David, I think you’re reading far more into Roy’s return than—”

  “Go see the world, Momma. You’ve always wanted to. You can afford to fly home if we need you.”

  If they need me? Saul was right. She was a meddling old fool. “You don’t want me—”

  “Momma, who tried to talk you out of moving out of the parsonage? Me.” His genuine love for her cut her worries off at the knees. “But only a selfish brat would insist on having his mother hold his hand forever.” He raised his palm. “Hear me out.”

  “You came back to Mt. Hope for me.”

  “But I stayed for me and you know that, Momma.” David’s face softened. “Tomorrow, Amy and I are telling the congregation about the baby. The moment the service is over, you know Nola Gay and Etta May will launch the prayer chain. The Lord’s got us covered.”

  “Why tomorrow?”

  “It’s Sunday, remember?”

  “Of course.”

  David’s face puzzled. “Are you worried about something else?”

  “I think Maddie might like to be here when you make it official,” she covered.

  “Probably.” He shrugged. “But she’s busy, Momma.”

  “Your sister has been in on this plan of yours and Amy’s from the start. I think she’ll want to see it to a successful conclusion.”

  “Something tells me this is about more than letting Maddie play the role of proud aunt. It’s even more than getting Maddie back in church, right?”

  “If you wait a week, that will give me time to work out flying Maddie home and possibly planning a little celebration or baby shower or something. Nothing big. Just a few of your closest friends.”

  He studied her for a second. “You plan to kill two birds with one stone, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Admit it. You don’t want Parker to leave without Maddie giving their relationship one last shot.”

  “Well, sue me.”

  “Momma, my sister and I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for us. Really, we do. But we don’t want you to blow your chance at happiness because you were busy trying to arrange ours.”

  Angus delivered steaming plates of bacon and eggs with sides of biscuits, gravy, and grits.

  “Well, there is one more little matter I’ve debated whether or not to tell you about,” Leona said between bites.

  �
��You are eloping with Roy.”

  “No.” The adamancy in her voice surprised her. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Maxine and Howard.”

  The playfulness on David’s face disappeared. “What now?”

  She leaned across the table and whispered, “Maxine and Howard could divorce.”

  David dropped his fork. “What?”

  “She believes Howard is having an affair. If that’s the case, it will change the makeup of the board.”

  “And a change on the board could possibly change my current level of support?”

  “You’ve worked hard to win that group of people over. With the board you have now, you know what to expect. But bring on someone new, who knows?”

  “A bigger question is what can I do to help them?” David raked his hair. “I don’t have enough years of a marriage experience behind me to offer them credible counseling.”

  “If it’s not overstepping, I have an idea.”

  “Momma, you’ve got experience I don’t have.”

  Pleased she wasn’t completely washed-up, Leona continued, “When I mentioned to Amy that I wanted to help her convert your old room into a nursery, she said to wait until after you made the announcement to the church.” She framed her next words carefully. “Why don’t I invite Maxine to help us paint?”

  David shook his head. “Momma, it’s bad enough that Maxine is always telling me how to run the church. I don’t want her telling my wife how beige to make our child’s room.”

  Leona held up her palm. “Maxine and I used to paint together all the time. We redid all of the children’s classrooms in the church. We’ve had great conversations over a paint tray. Let me see if working together again will open the door she slammed so long ago. After all, she came to me. Let me try talking to her. See if I can’t get to the bottom of this.”

  David let out a long, resigned sigh. “Do you think it’s true, Momma?”

  Maxine’s distraught face flashed in Leona’s mind. “I think marriage is hard. People don’t mean to hurt each other, but sometimes things happen. Pain can push people apart. When we’re hurting, we’re all capable of behaving in ways we never thought possible.”

  “I wish Colton hadn’t died.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Morning, Leona.” The same male voice that had encouraged her last night encouraged her now.

  Leona’s head snapped up. Saul stood beside their table, a newspaper in his hand. The headline she’d written introducing the new dance studio to the community was on the front page. What if he wanted to talk about their dance? What if he brought up David’s baby? She’d told him that in confidence when she thought her secrets were protected by attorney-client privilege. But she couldn’t expect an intoxicating spin around the dance floor to keep his lips sealed. Could she?

  “Nice write-up about Kendra’s studio,” Saul said, snapping Leona from her frantic wonderings. “She’ll appreciate the publicity, I’m sure.” He nodded to David. “Your mother’s a talented woman.”

  Oh no! Leona shifted in her seat, bracing for ... she wasn’t sure.

  “Thanks,” David’s tone was less than cordial.

  From the hardening of Saul’s jaw, he’d gotten the message. “I’ll leave you to your eggs. Nice seeing you ... both.” He executed a sharp pivot and strode toward his usual booth where Angus was already setting him up with coffee.

  Leona didn’t realize she’d quit breathing until David poked her. “Momma?”

  Saul had not betrayed her in any way, shape, or form. “Yes.”

  “I’m thanking God.”

  “Why?”

  “It could have been that gold-digging ambulance chaser that asked you to go to Africa.”

  “He’s not a gold digger,” slipped softly from her lips but her eyes remained glued on the man having coffee alone.

  “I’m glad you fired him.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Looking forward to a Sunday afternoon of painting, Leona tossed her red heels in the closet and peeled off her dress. She wanted her guest bedroom to feel like home when Maddie came next weekend. It hadn’t taken much to convince her daughter to juggle her hospital schedule. Maddie’s quick agreement seemed strange, especially since she’d been too busy to come to Mt. Hope since David and Amy’s wedding. Leona had a sneaky suspicion David may have put a bug in his sister’s ear about the possibility of their mother running off to Africa.

  If she’d have known that’s all it would take to bring Maddie back to Mt. Hope, she would have found someone to threaten to run off with a year ago.

  She hadn’t decided one way or the other on Roy or his offer to see the world, but she had to admit, it was nice having a man sitting beside her on the pew. The charming missionary had so many wonderful qualities. His commitment to the Lord, along with his desire to make a difference in the world, was so like J.D. But something deep inside of her froze whenever Roy reached for her hand. Since the dance lesson date, he seemed to be reaching for her with increased regularity. Maybe it was all just too fast. Maybe Roy wasn’t the right man for her second chance. Maybe God had only planned one chance at love for her and she’d used that one up.

  Leona yanked her favorite paint-splattered shirt over her head, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The colors on the shirt were from her old life, her life as the pastor’s wife in the parsonage. Determined to rid her new house of the same beige, she ripped the shirt off and tossed it in the trash.

  She dug through the stack of tees in her dresser drawer. She chose a pale blue one, pulling the soft, worn fabric over her head and running her palm over the blank canvas. Every new splatter would be the color of her choosing and on walls she owned.

  On her way to the garage for supplies, she popped her Gaither CD in the new stereo system she’d bought. Not exactly ballroom tempo, but a tempo she and J.D. loved. She held her right hand high, closed her eyes. Right foot back. Step. Slide. She imagined herself waltzing around the dance floor, gliding and swaying in the arms of Saul...what? Her eyes popped open. Goosebumps pimpled her flesh. Her breath came out in short puffs, her heart thumped her chest.

  She’d seen Saul out of the corner of her eye after church. Not accidentally. She’d looked for him. She wanted to thank him for keeping his knowledge of David’s baby to himself, and for not mentioning their dance, and for ... it didn’t really matter because as she was making her way down the aisle, Roy whisked her over to talk to Maxine and Howard. The pair was so miserably uncomfortable and Roy was so completely oblivious, Leona didn’t have the heart to excuse herself from the situation. By the time Roy was finished shoring up his donor base, Saul was gone.

  The military attorney was all wrong for her. David was right. Roy and his mission-minded ways fit her far better. Think of Roy, Leona told herself as she gathered supplies in the garage.

  Arms loaded, she sighed at the dog. “Let’s do this, Tater.” The cocker trotted down the hall and dropped outside the door to the guest room.

  Thirty minutes later, she’d pushed Saul from her mind and shoved the furniture to the center of the room. She draped the exposed hardwoods in plastic, took a flathead screwdriver to the lid on the paint can, and pried it open. She filled a new paint tray and dipped the roller in the dreamy shade of designer gray. Maxine had vehemently refused to let her use anything other than beige in the parsonage. She claimed keeping the parsonage neutral made the house more appealing. For whom? Leona had always wanted to ask. The next pastor?

  Leona cranked her Gaither CD as loud as it would go then began to roll paint. With each stroke, the beige she’d lived with so long disappeared.

  When she had one wall coated and cut in, she stepped back to admire her work. She was enjoying being able to paint her house any color, anytime she liked. No longer did she have to worry what anyone thought.

  Empowered by the freedom, she perched the roller on the edge of the tray and checked her cell phone. Before she could change her mind, she tapped out a text.

 
Saul. Your discretion in regards to David and Amy’s baby was much appreciated. Thanks. Leona

  Her children told her she didn’t have to sign her texts, but this wasn’t just any text. This was a formal-slash-casual expression of gratitude.

  Finger hovering over SEND, she checked her wording. Nothing wrong with sending a simple thank you. In all her years of ministry, she’d never received a single gift that she hadn’t immediately acknowledged with a written thank you. Gratitude had always been one of her more endearing traits. Not that she wanted to endear herself in any way, shape or form to Saul Levy. But the man deserved credit where credit was due. Keeping her message digital instead of handwritten kept her sentiments from seeming too personal. If Saul Levy was as smart as he thought he was, he could read between the lines and know how much she appreciated his decision to keep their dance to himself as well.

  Before she could change her mind, she pushed SEND. Hands trembling, her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the blank screen, waiting for a response. Nothing.

  Well, she’d done the right thing. Now that her conscience was clear, maybe she could concentrate on the bigger decision looming before her...what to do about Roy McGee?

  “Leona!” her mother’s voice called from the living room. “You here?”

  Tater sprang into action, barking and snarling.

  “In the back.” Leona pocketed her phone and stepped into the hall.

  “Call off this killer, Leona.” Bertie clung to Cotton’s arm.

  “Tater! Leave it.” The dog obediently dropped at Leona’s feet. “Y’all come on back. I’m painting the guest room before Maddie comes home.”

  Bertie kept a wary eye on the dog as she made her way down the hall.

  “Looks like you’re settling in,” Cotton said as he trailed Leona’s mother. “I believe you can do anything you set your mind to, Leona.”

  “No wonder Mother loves you,” she winked at the snowy-headed man who’d made her husband a very rich man. If she could forgive Cotton for his part in the conspiracy, why was she having such a hard time letting J.D. or Saul off the hook? “Watch your step.” She led them into the room.

 

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