The polish was a pale pink, the pearly shade of Dalya’s wedding shoes, and when she looked at her nails, the scars around them blurred. When they blurred, the outline of her feet became smooth and graceful, a glimpse of how they’d been long, long ago.
“Do you like it?” Pinny asked.
“Not too shabby,” Ray said lightly, but she couldn’t stop her smile.
Dalya nodded in approval. “Now we’ll get your measurements for your shoes. It will take some time to make them. I’ll order special cushioning for the sole and the upper, to make them as comfortable as possible. But at least we can make a start, and I can mail them to you after…”
Her voice died, and Ray’s stomach lurched. After you leave. Those were the words she’d been about to say. The anxiety that Ray had almost forgotten about returned, and her face must have shown it, because Dalya sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Dalya said. “I didn’t mean to bring up the subject of you leaving.”
“We can’t leave yet,” Pinny sputtered. “Not until Ray’s shoes are done.”
Dalya stared down at the tools in her hands. “Reality can be so rude. I forget about it, sometimes, tucked away in this shop.” She sighed. “I’m enjoying having you here, but we can’t keep pretending it’s not complicated. I can’t let you use this as a hiding place forever. Tomorrow, we’ll have to let the world in. But I have to admit, I don’t want to. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Nothing ever is,” Ray blurted.
“You’re too young to be so angry.” Dalya clucked her tongue. “That’s the reason I haven’t pushed you for answers about why you left Texas. You’re so desperate not to go back. I don’t know what it is you’re so frightened of. But I hope, at least, I’m giving you some time away from it.”
Ray saw the sincerity in Dalya’s face, and suddenly she thought maybe she could find a way to stay, to come clean about Dalya’s rings. But if she stayed, what sort of future would she have?
Pinny glanced at Ray, probably waiting to see if Ray’d put up a fight. But Ray reluctantly nodded. “We have to deal with Texas sooner or later. Better tomorrow than today, right?” She’d leave in the morning, before Dalya and Pinny woke up. For now, she had to keep Pinny convinced that they were going to stay together. If Pinny knew what Ray was planning, she’d never let her leave alone.
“Okay,” Pinny said gloomily. “Tomorrow.”
Dalya smiled. “It’s settled, then….Back to shoes.”
“Back to shoes,” Pinny said, brightening.
But while she and Dalya measured Ray’s feet and mulled over designs and colors, laughing and chatting easily, a shadow settled over Ray. Dalya, and even Pinny, might believe they could stall reality for the next few hours, or maybe for the whole day. Not her. Never her.
For her, there was only the quiet agony of waiting for the moment when this stolen happiness would be snatched away for good.
PINNY
A yawn snuck up behind Pinny’s smile, catching it off guard, but it still stayed stuck right where it was. It had been that kind of sunshiny day. Dalya had called her an apprentice. It sounded important. Like making shoes was important. Like she was important. Then they’d gone for a walk in Central Park, and eaten warm pretzels with mustard, and played five rounds of Go Fish. Even Ray had played…all five times.
“I beat you two times,” she said to Ray as she pulled her backpack onto the bed.
“Don’t remind me.” Ray’s voice sounded grouchy, but she could tell she was faking it. “It’s hard to play Go Fish with a broken arm.”
Pinny snorted. “Try playing with a broken brain.”
“Stop.” Ray said it so hard and loud that Pinny jumped.
She stared at Ray. “Why are you mad? I was making a joke.”
Ray frowned. “No. Never about that. Your brain is perfect.”
Pinny concentrated on unzipping her backpack so her eyes wouldn’t go soggy. “It’s not,” she whispered. “Everyone who looks at me knows it’s not.”
“Listen to me.” Ray took her by the shoulders. “Lots of people’s brains are messed up. Their brains are full of ugliness, meanness, lies. Yours isn’t full of any of that crap. And I love the way you think.”
Pinny turned away. Ray was trying to help. But she couldn’t…not with this. She lined up her treasures on the nightstand—Mama’s shoes, then Daddy’s watch next to them, cuddling.
“It’s why Mama didn’t come back for me.” She sighed. “I know it is.”
Ray shook her head. “Do you know what I think happened? Your mama found her own magic carpet. It flew her higher than the sky, higher than the stars, even. It got so high she couldn’t come back. But she’s happy…up there with the stars.”
Pinny shut her eyes, and a picture filled her head, of Mama doing loop-the-loops around the stars, her hair glittery with their light. “You’re making up a story.”
“Maybe, but we’ll never know for sure.” She nudged Pinny’s shoulder. “Right?”
Pinny couldn’t help her smile. It was a lot better to think about it the way Ray told it.
Just then, there was a knock on the bedroom door, and Dalya came in.
“I brought you girls some clean pajamas.” She went to lay them on the bed, but stopped in front of the nightstand.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
“My treasures,” Pinny said. “Mama’s shoes, Daddy’s watch…”
A mixed-up look crossed Dalya’s face. “Your daddy’s watch?”
Pinny nodded. “You can hold it.” She set it in Dalya’s hands. “Careful. It’s very, very old.”
“It reminds me of one I saw before….” Dalya gently turned it over, reading the words on the back, then sucked in her breath. “ ‘Time spent in happiness is never wasted.’ ” She held it right up to her face. “It looks like the inscription was changed?”
“The words on the back?” Pinny nodded. “It used to say something else. About time and money. Mama had it fixed. She said Daddy had the words all wrong.”
“ ‘Time wasted is money lost.’ Is that what it used to say?” Dalya gripped the nightstand.
“That’s right!” Pinny said. “How did you know that?”
Dalya’s face turned egg-white. She cuddled her hands close to her chest. “Pinny…” Her voice was barely a breeze. She leaned forward. “Do you know your daddy’s name?”
Pinny thought until her lips buttoned with trying to remember. “It was a K name,” she said slowly. “K…K…” Yes! She had it! “Kent!”
Dalya gave a soft cry. “Kent Ashbury!” she whispered. Her expression was a jumble of sad and happy, and she couldn’t talk for the longest time after that.
“It was your great-grandfather who had the words wrong, not your daddy.” She rubbed her hand over the watch so lovingly, like she was rubbing a baby’s head. “This watch belonged to your great-grandfather, then your grandfather, and then your daddy. Your grandfather’s name was Henry.” Her voice hugged his name. “We were great friends, long ago. But then, well, we couldn’t be anymore. Henry died a few years ago.” She sighed. “Henry must’ve given this watch to your daddy.”
Pinny’s heart hopped in her chest. If Dalya knew her grandpa, then did that mean…? “Do you know my daddy? Do you know where he is?”
“I’ve never met him,” Dalya said. “But I’m a great admirer of his work. He’s quite a talented painter. Some of his pieces are on exhibit right now at the Ferenz Gallery in SoHo.” She smiled and placed her hand over Pinny’s. “Your daddy…lives right here in this city.”
“In this city,” Pinny whispered. Grandfather’s watch. Daddy’s watch. The pieces spun inside her head, but they wouldn’t come together. She looked at Ray.
Ray smiled. “Pinny, you might be able to meet your daddy.”
“Oh!” Her grin stretched so wide her cheeks hurt. Her daddy was real! Alive! Somewhere close by! “Oh, I’d love to meet him!” Then she remembered. “But what if he doesn’t know about me?” she w
hispered, her heart diving to her toes. “What if he doesn’t like my…who I am?”
“No sense dwelling on what-ifs.” Dalya gave her hands a squeeze. “We’ll just have to hope…and see.”
Pinny nodded. She’d hoped for Mama, and then…nothing. But she might have enough left…enough hope for Daddy. She’d find it. She had to.
“We can try contacting him first thing tomorrow.” Dalya shook her head, smiling. “I’d like to meet him, too. I always imagined him being the best of his father.” Her eyes lit, like she was remembering something too sweet and secret to say. Then she looked back at Pinny. “If it’s true, then I have to believe he’ll be delighted to know you.” She stood. “I’ll track down the number for the gallery. We’ll start there.”
As soon as Dalya said good night and shut the door, Ray said, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Why?” There was no way Pinny was sleepy, not with excitement fizzing inside her. “We could play more cards. I could paint your fingernails, or—”
“Not tonight,” Ray said shortly. “Sorry.”
Her heart sank. She’d just heard the best news ever. So why didn’t Ray look happy about it? She was quiet in her bed, curled up tight. Maybe it was a bad case of the Lonelies.
Pinny sat down next to her. “If I meet Daddy, he’ll be my family. Maybe he can be yours, too. We can share him. Would that make you happy?”
“I am happy for you.” The corner of Ray’s mouth lifted, but Pinny wasn’t sure it counted as a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. And I’m going to sleep.”
“Sorry,” Pinny whispered. She changed into pajamas as fast as she could, checked on her treasures one last time, then turned off the light and climbed into bed.
While she waited on sleep, she bounced a little so her mattress would make its tweeting sigh. She’d noticed before it could do that, when she first sat down. She bounced again. The bed was singing.
She heard Ray sigh from the other side of the room, probably getting mad over the bouncing. She stopped and lay still.
“Pinny?” Ray’s voice was small, like it was lost in the dark and afraid.
Pinny shifted onto her side. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No. I”—her voice turned wavy—“I’m glad you came with me on this trip. I told you I didn’t want you to, but I didn’t know what I was talking about. I was wrong…about so many things.”
“Most things,” Pinny said.
Ray laughed. “Okay. What I mean is…” She cleared her throat. “You’re the best friend I ever had.”
“And the best sister,” Pinny reminded her.
“Always.” Ray’s voice was barely there. She sniffed loudly, and Pinny wondered if she might be catching a cold. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Her eyelids were droopy. But before they closed, she thought of something. Ray’s “Good night” had sounded wrong, too sorrowful. Ray’s “Good night” had sounded a lot like “Goodbye.”
RAY
Ray hadn’t slept, and she sat on the edge of her bed in a patch of morning sun, clutching Dalya’s rings, steeling herself for what she knew she had to do. She should’ve gone hours ago. But last night, talking to Pinny, she’d realized it. She didn’t want to be one of those ugly minds she’d described to Pinny. She wanted, for once, to be the Ray that Pinny believed in, fairy tale or no. For Pinny’s sake, and, she realized with some surprise, her own. So, ignoring the suffocation she felt at sealing her fate, she’d stayed.
She’d heard Dalya leave her room a while ago, and now she heard her voice drifting up through the floorboards. Ray couldn’t make out words, only cadences, rising and falling, and the sweet, pleased notes in Dalya’s tone. Ray slipped from the bedroom and went downstairs, shaking.
Dalya was just hanging up the phone when Ray stepped into the shop.
“Ray.” Dalya smiled. “I have such wonderful news. I put in a call to the Ferenz Gallery this morning, and the owner was able to reach Pinny’s father.” She clapped her hands in delight, looking surprisingly girlish as she did. “Kent’s at his studio in Vermont now, but he’s leaving right away to come back. He wants to meet Pinny. All these years, and he never knew about her! Would you like to go wake her? Oh, she’ll be thrilled.” Dalya chuckled, then stopped, staring at her. “What on earth is wrong, child? You’re shivering….”
At first, nothing would come. Her tongue was glued to the base of her mouth. Then, at last, “I’m fine.” She waved Dalya’s worried hands away, her heart shuddering against her ribs. She closed her eyes, squeezing her fist until the rings dug into her palm.
This was the moment, she knew, when the choice between truth and lies determined her future. The truth about the pink shoes and Dalya’s rings, the truth about her own meanness, the kind of meanness Pinny hated. “I—I have something I need to tell you. But”—she heaved a breath—“not without Pinny. She has to hear it, too. I owe her that.”
“Hear what?” a voice asked.
Ray turned to see Pinny in the doorway at the back of the shop, her face pale, her eyes bright. Then she glanced at Dalya’s kind, unassuming eyes as she sat on her work stool, waiting. “Everything,” she whispered.
Pinny stepped to her side, and Ray felt herself growing strong, strong enough for the truth. Pinny was with her, and that made all the difference. She took a breath, clean and full, and slid her hand into Pinny’s.
“I told you before what I was afraid of,” Ray said to her. “Of not being the person I want to be.” She pushed the leaden words out of her throat. “I’m not her. Maybe I can never be her. But…I’d like to try.”
“What do you mean?” Pinny’s voice was quiet, scared.
“You don’t know who I am, Pinny. Not really.” Her voice broke. “I wreck things, like…I almost wrecked you. I steal things, too. All the time. Mrs. Danvers’s money, the dress I wore to prom, the pink shoes. Those I took from the Pennypinch. But that’s not all.” She needed each truth out in the open, away from her. She was vaguely aware of Dalya listening, but she kept her eyes focused on Pinny to make sure she understood who she was, what she’d done.
She stretched her hand toward Dalya, revealing the rings inside. “I…I have these for you.” She laid them in Dalya’s palm.
“My mother’s rings,” Dalya gasped. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she cupped the rings in her palms, kissing them. Then, through the tears, Dalya’s eyes found hers. “You had them all along.”
It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact.
Ray nodded as Pinny frowned. “Why would you do that?” Pinny asked. “Dalya helped us.”
“I know. I was…” She had to keep going. It was the only way through the person she was to the person she wanted to be. “I was going to pawn them. I was going to leave, and I needed the money.”
“And what changed?” Dalya asked, running a fingertip lightly, lovingly, over the rings’ curves.
She shrugged. “Nothing. Except my mind.”
Dalya slid the rings onto her right ring finger, then stood.
“I’m sorry,” Ray whispered. “I should never have taken them.”
“Thank you.” Dalya squeezed Ray’s hand. “But they were always safe in your keeping. I believe that.”
She shook her head. “I was planning to leave without you knowing. Without saying goodbye.” She forced herself to keep looking at Pinny, watching as disappointment crumpled her face. This was her penance. “There was something I was trying to forget.” She swallowed. “Lots of things…and there was someone, too. Carter.” She hadn’t said his name out loud, ever. But when she said it now, it didn’t bring the pain she’d expected.
Dalya frowned, and a fierce protectiveness lit her eyes. “Oh, sweet girl, he didn’t hurt you—”
“No,” Ray blurted, shaking her head adamantly. “He would never do anything like that. I tried to get him to, but he didn’t want me…that way.” Her breath caught as she realized what she’d said, and the truth behind it. How
had she never seen it before, what he really was? Here she’d been thinking Pinny was her only one, but Carter…“He was my…friend.”
Then the rest of the words spilled out of her. Her story—the one she’d never told anyone—of what had happened with Carter. She thought that it would sound as horrible as it had felt to lose him. When she talked about him, though, she discovered that her memories of him had grown into something new and, somehow, less painful. She pictured him sitting beside her at the lake and saw him clearly, honestly, for the first time. Where she’d thought there’d been desire in his smile, there’d been kinship. His touch on her fingers hadn’t been him asking for more, it had been him asking her for trust.
She hadn’t understood it or recognized it then in Carter because she’d never seen it before. But she saw it now—the caring—in Dalya and Pinny. This time, she could allow it in without mistaking it for something else. She could finally let it be what it was.
“So much running away,” Dalya said when Ray’d finished.
“It wasn’t just from Carter,” Ray admitted. “It was from Smokebush, too, and Jaynis.” Ray stared at the floor. “Everything there is so…so small. I was nothing.”
“Not to me, you weren’t!” Pinny blurted. It was the first time Pinny had spoken since Ray had begun, and the hurt in her voice was unbearable. She hated that she’d let her down again, and she gripped Dalya’s worktable, her nerves raw knots under her skin.
“You were going to leave. You lied to me.” Pinny stared at her. “You stole the shoes. And Dalya’s rings.”
Ray nodded. “Yes.”
“Those were wrong things,” Pinny said. She was quiet for a long time, her expression thoughtful. “But…you brought me to New York. You helped me find Mama’s shoes. You didn’t have to be my sister, but you are. And those things…were right.”
“I didn’t want to do any of them,” Ray protested. “Don’t you see? It’s never in me to do right. Only, you made it hard to say no.”
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