The Emerald Hills Collection

by Judith Post

  Now, she gripped the counter and stared up at him. “We’re out of ice cream, and I want a snack. We need to go to the store.”

  “Does Megan know you came down here?” He’d hired Megan to babysit during the day for the summer. When school started, Bridey would start full-day kindergarten, but for now, she needed someone to keep an eye on her while he worked.

  Bridey avoided his question. “We don’t have any peanut butter either. We need to go to the Food Mart.”

  “Can’t right now. The shop’s open for another hour. You’ll have to wait till closing.”

  Her bottom lip protruded. “But I’m hungry now. All the popsicles are gone too.”

  “Then you ate too many of them, too fast,” he said, placing the finished sandals on the counter.

  “Did not. It’s summer. You’re supposed to eat popsicles when it’s hot.”

  He walked around the counter and lifted her high in the air, letting out a fake groan. “I can barely get you off the ground. I bet you’ve gained a thousand pounds since you got here. I need to put you on a no popsicle diet.”

  She was shrieking with happiness when Evelyn strode back into the store. She stared at the sight in front of her, and Gino quickly put Bridey back on the floor. He grinned. “She’s been naughty. I had to whirl her or tickle her.”

  "He did both!" Bridey's dimples flashed.

  Evelyn’s lips pinched together. “You have a beautiful daughter.”

  “I’m not his daughter,” Bridey said. “He’s my uncle, but he’s keeping me.”

  “Keeping you?” Evelyn blinked.

  “My brother died in the war. His wife brought Bridey to me to raise.” Gino didn’t make any secret about that. He believed dealing with issues openly and honestly kept things simple.

  Evelyn’s expression crumpled. Gino thought she was going to cry, and for some reason he couldn't explain, it really bothered him. She struggled for composure and when she spoke, her voice was tight. “She just gave her child to you?”

  “Something like that.”

  She turned away from them for a moment. When she turned back, her expression was deathly calm, as though she’d willed away all emotion. “I’m happy for both of you that you found each other.”

  The bleak composure bothered him more than the threat of tears. Something had happened to this woman, something that had hurt her. He hoped that the new soles he’d put on her sandals would help alleviate some of her pain. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” She gave a brittle smile, then glanced at the shoes he'd repaired. She looked surprised. “You’ve polished them or something. They do almost look new. Are you finished with them?”

  It was a cue to give her the shoes and let her be on her way. “They’re ready to go. I wouldn’t wear them until tomorrow, so that everything dries all the way.” He put her sandals in a bag and added the box that held her new heels. He wished he had some kind of a tracking device so that he could check up on her, to see if she was doing better in a month or two. To see if…. He pushed that thought away.

  “If I brought two more pairs of shoes to you, would you have time to fix them?”

  Two more pairs? That meant she'd be back. Could he stretch that to another visit? The reality was, he'd have to. “I probably couldn't get to them the same day. You might have to come back for them.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “It’s a little bit of a drive for me. And gas prices these days….”

  “I could mail them to you when they’re finished.”

  She thought about that. “Maybe. Thanks for everything.” She took her shoes and left the shop.

  Gino watched her go. Would he see her again? She went to an old-model, Ford Taurus with a dent on the back bumper. Bridey watched her, too.

  “She’s pretty, but she’s sad, isn’t she?” Bridey said.

  Too sad. He held out his pinkie finger. “Life can be hard sometimes. Pinkie pledge. Let’s hope her luck changes and she smiles more.”

  Bridey giggled as she entwined her little finger with his. Then a new customer came in the shop, and Bridey went upstairs to wait for closing time.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, on a Saturday, Evelyn returned with two pairs of dress shoes. The shop was busy, with tourists coming and going. Gino helped one customer after another, selling pair after pair of imported shoes. There’d be no time for repairs, so he took down her name and address and promised to mail them to her when he’d finished with them.

  "No, I'll return to get them, but it might not be for a while. Will you hold them for me?" She was wearing a sundress that fell mid-calf, hiding most of her glorious legs. She reminded him of a wood nymph with her coloring and lithe figure. Her light-brown hair was arranged in some kind of updo today, emphasizing her large, hazel eyes and high cheekbones.

  "Hold them for you? Sure. No problem." That meant she'd have to return to his shop. He wished he could ogle her more, spend a few more minutes with her, but there was no time. He watched her leave and stroll down the street, looking for sales and discounts. She was wearing the sandals he’d repaired. Good. His magic would seep into her, little by little. The aura of despair that clung to her should dissipate.

  The day flew by and he didn’t see her again. By the time he turned the sign in his shop to Closed, he was exhausted. Bridey came flying down the stairs with Megan close behind her.

  The teenage girl looked like a tangle of arms and legs, all long and coltish. “Sorry I have to leave so soon, but I need to be home early. Our family’s going camping tonight.”

  He nodded and handed her the money he owed her. “You told me. It's great weather. Have a good time."

  She bolted for the door.

  Bridey wandered around the shop, restless.

  Dealing with a bored child was almost as much fun as a root canal. Gino glanced at the sunny day. Too pretty to stay inside. "I don’t feel like cooking. How about going out for supper?”

  She bounced up and down like a happy puppy. “Really? Can we go to Nancy’s restaurant? I like it there.”

  The restaurant sat on the edge of town, a nice walk from his shop. It was nothing fancy, serving family-style food. “Works for me. Go get your shoes, little hooligan. You live above a shoe shop, and you always go barefoot.”

  She giggled and raced up the stairs, returning with flip-flips on. Then hand in hand, they walked through the town. Flowers spilled from window boxes and hanging planters. They passed Tana's Sweet Shoppe on the corner of Burgunday Boulevard. Nate was helping behind the candy counter, and there was still a long line. Tourists filled every outside table at Giselle and Pier's coffee shop. They turned on Gold Galleyway, pushed and pulled by people going from Cynthia Raker's art gallery to the new soap shop that opened up at the beginning of the season. Rumor was, if you washed with Laura's Natural Soaps, wrinkles disappeared.

  When they finally reached the restaurant, Nancy made sure they got a table and took their orders herself. She tugged at one of Bridey’s dark curls. “I always knew Gino had a way with the ladies, but I never thought he’d find someone as cute as you.”

  A way with the ladies. Not anymore. These days, Gino spent more time at home, playing Candy Land, than he did at the bars.

  They were drawing pictures on their paper place mats when Evelyn walked through the door. The sun slanted behind her, painting her in a halo of light. Gino had to make himself stop staring. She glanced around at the tables. Disappointment creased her forehead. She was turning to leave when Gino waved her over.

  “We’ve got an empty chair.” He motioned for her to sit. “You’ve come to the right place. The food’s wonderful.”

  "A shop keeper told me the prices were reasonable."

  Gino nodded. "That, too."

  She looked uncertain. “I don’t want to intrude….”

  Bridey pointed to the bag in Evelyn's hand. “What did you buy?”

  Evelyn perched on the edge of her chair, as though she might jump up and run away at any moment.
What an odd woman. Gino wanted to laugh, but was sure she wouldn’t see the humor in it. She opened her bag and pulled out a crocheted top. A tag read 70% off.

  “I like it!” Bridey clapped her hands, excited.

  Evelyn carefully folded it and returned it to its bag. “So do I. I’ve been looking for something a little dressy to wear to a recital.”

  “What’s that?” Bridey asked. “Like a party?”

  Evelyn’s cheeks flushed. She hesitated before saying, “No, I teach dance, and sometimes I have to dress up to meet parents and give special programs.”

  “Are you a ballerina?” Bridey leaned forward, her voice hushed with reverence.

  Gino studied his niece with surprise. “Do you like ballet?”

  She squirmed in her chair. “Daddy took me to see a Christmas show once with girls in pretty dresses and pointy shoes.”

  “The Nutcracker?” Evelyn asked.

  “It had wooden soldiers.” Bridey fiddled with her crayons, and Gino realized she rarely talked about her father. Maybe it was too difficult.

  Evelyn nodded. “Did you like it?”

  Bridey’s dark eyes went wide, remembering, then she blinked away tears. “It was sort of like magic.”

  Gino’s stomach knotted. Mario had been crazy about his little girl. He knew all the right things to do for her. He, on the other hand, felt like he was winging it. He’d avoided any serious commitments so far, until at age twenty-eight, he found himself single and clueless. How in the world would he get it right with Bridey? He ran a hand through his mop of hair in frustration.

  Evelyn gave him a long, thoughtful look. “It must be hard, finding yourself an instant parent.”

  Bridey jerked to listen to his answer.

  He winked at her. “Hard, no. It’s impossible not to like the Bridester. Worried? Yes. I’ve never hung out with dwarves before. I don’t know what’s best for them.”

  Bridey's shoulders relaxed. She wrinkled her nose at him. “Mom sent you a letter. She told you what to do.”

  Gino sighed. He’d called Bridey’s mother and insisted that she sign custody of Bridey over to him and send health records and anything else important that he should know about. He'd hired a lawyer, too, determined to make sure she couldn’t come back in a few years and demand her child back. He’d gotten a legal document, along with Bridey’s shot records, and a book on parenting. He’d read it, but he was pretty sure there was a lot more to raising a little girl than the book implied.

  He looked up to find Evelyn staring at him. He shrugged. “I’m new to all of this, but I’m trying. I guess that’s what every parent does with the first kid, right?”

  “That’s more than some ever bother with.” There was a bleak tone in her voice, and Gino wondered again what had hurt her. He had a sudden desire to get to the source of her pain, to heal it, but he pushed the thought away. What was wrong with him? Give him a kid and he was turning into a do-gooder. But it was more than that. Evelyn intrigued him. She seemed vulnerable and strong at the same time.

  Their food came, and conversation grew intermittent while they ate. When they finished, Evelyn reached for her bill before Gino could offer to pay it. She quickly counted out the exact amount, with a fifteen percent tip, and then rose to her feet.

  “Thanks for letting me sit with you, but I have to go. I’d like to get home at a decent time.” She took her package and hurried out of the restaurant.

  Gino shook his head. That woman had built a prickly barrier around her that Prince Charming couldn't slice through.

  * * *

  On Sunday, unlike many shops in town, Gino's stayed closed. It was his dad’s rule when he'd started the business. A devout Catholic, he thought it a sin to work on the Sabbath. An Italian thing. For Gino, it proved practical, as well. He needed a day to catch up. He'd been working with shoes ever since his father discovered he'd inherited the family magic.

  "What about Mario?" Gino had complained. His big brother got to practice sports on the weekends.

  "No magic," his father said. "Shoes aren't for him."

  By the time Gino graduated from high school, Mario had joined the marines, and his dad and mom were ready to move to California to live near Mom’s brothers and sisters. His dad opened a shoe shop out there, gave Mario a chunk of money to make a down payment on a house, and gave Gino the shop in Emerald Hills.

  "No money for me?" Gino asked.

  “If you work hard, you’ll make a good living,” his dad told him. “If you’re lazy, you don’t deserve a good life anyway.”

  That was Gino’s old man. He said what he meant. He still called every Sunday to check on things, and this day was no different.

  “How’s it going, Gino? Did you go to church this morning?”

  “I always make it to church, pa. You know that. Especially now. Bridey needs a good foundation, no?”

  “That, and a good mother. You meet any nice girls? Someone who’d be good to you and our Bridey?”

  Gino laughed. "Now you sound like Mom."

  "Your mother's a saint. You should listen to her."

  "I can't NOT listen. She's free with her opinions, just like you." But Evelyn popped into his mind. She taught dance classes, right? She must like kids. He'd be damned if he'd discuss her with his parents, though. “You know me, pa. Women run when they meet me.”

  “Only because you chase them. You need to give up your party ways, settle down, and make a good home for our little girl.”

  “Bridey and I are doing fine. How’s Mom? Is she tired of you yet?”

  “She puts up with me. She must like me.”

  “And I always pegged her for a smart woman….”

  His dad laughed. “Gotta go. Havin’ Sunday gravy at your Aunt Louise’s. You cooking? Going to feed our girl some good, Italian food?"

  "It's hot today. I'm making shrimp scampi. Bridey likes shrimp."

  "You got your mama's cooking genes and my magic. You can't screw up too much. Try to be good.”

  It was their standard parting line. Gino hung up his phone, then got back to the stove. B.K.—before kid—he served roasted asparagus alongside scampi, but Bridey didn't like it. He'd learned that little girls, regardless of what food experts said, did not eat vegetables just because they were on the table, no matter how many different ways he cooked them. So Bridey stood on a kitchen chair, snapping green beans, for him to sauté.

  When everything was ready, they carried their plates onto the balcony that overlooked their small backyard. A privacy fence surrounded it. A cement patio with a grill and seating area took up the majority of the space. A small patch of grass surrounded the patio, and huge clay pots, filled with herbs, lined one side of the fence. Tomato and pepper plants lined the back.

  Bridey pointed to the fresh basil and tilted her head. "I'm going to call you Gabriele, like the man on Extra Virgin."

  Gino waggled a finger. "You're only five. You shouldn't be hooked on the Cooking Channel."

  "Why not? Gabriele likes to grow his own food and cook like you do."

  "You should be watching Little Bear."

  Her dimples showed. "I watch Little Bear, but Gabriele's sexy. He married a movie star. You could too."

  "Uggh. I don't want to hear that from you! You're too young to think about such things."

  "Mommy said all Italians are sexy and someday, you'd find the right woman."

  Gino rolled his eyes. "Just what I need. I already live with a princess. How would I deal with a wife?"

  Bridey ate her last shrimp and reached for one on Gino's plate. He gave her hand a playful smack. "What's the magic word?"

  "Please?"

  He let her take it. His gaze drifted to the town below them. "We haven't gone anywhere since tourist season started."

  Bridey's eyes sparkled. "Can we go to the city? Please, please, please."

  "Why not? A drive would be fun. But first, we clean the kitchen."

  She was off her chair, carrying her plate to the sink in a se
cond. "Can we go shopping? Can I get new clothes?"

  What was in store for him? The girl was five, and she was already a fashionista. But she’d grown since she’d moved in with him. He swore her mother never fed her. All she'd done since she moved in was eat. "I'll part with a hundred bucks," he told her. "So choose wisely."

  A bit of a vacant threat, since she couldn't add yet, but he wanted to teach her about money.

  She squealed and started filling the sink with soapy water. Bridey must have been in charge of dirty dishes when she lived with her mom, because she knew her stuff.

  Chores done, they hurried down the stairs to leave. As they passed the counter, Gino stopped and looked at the shoes he'd repaired for Evelyn. Pastels, meant for summer. Judging by her sandals, she could probably use them. "We drive right past Evelyn's on our way to the mall. Should I drop these off, save her a trip?" And some money. She worried about gas prices. He frowned. Why wasn't his magic working? Her finances should be better by now.

  Bridey reached for the shoes. "I wish she lived here."

  "Why? So you could sign up for dance classes?"

  "No, because she's special."

  Gino had to agree. And if one pair of new soles might help her, what would three do? Maybe the heavens would open and shower her with blessings. He had a feeling, she could use them.

  * * *

  Using his GPS, Gino didn’t have any trouble finding Evelyn’s address. When he parked at the curb in front of her apartment building, though, he wasn’t sure he’d made such a great decision. Would she slam the door in his face? She wasn’t exactly the open, friendly sort.

  Oh well, he was here, wasn't he? Grabbing the shoes and taking Bridey along as protection, he climbed the steps to number 329. When he knocked on the door, he could hear classical music playing inside. No one came. He knocked again. The door slowly opened a crack, and Evelyn peered out at them. Her hair was pulled up in a loose knot, and she wore no make-up. She didn't need any, he decided.