If the Shoe Fits

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “Tell you what, Mandy. You come fishing with me, and I’ll go movin’ with you.” Davis snuck a grin at Will. “Or is it groovin’?”

  “You know I’m not going fishing. If Julianne’s brothers were in town, they could tell you why.”

  Julianne giggled. “Mom’s afraid of worms.”

  “I am not afraid of worms!” she corrected. “I just don’t like them crawling into my shirt.”

  Julianne wiggled her eyebrows at Will, eliciting laughter.

  “Austin was playing with the worms,” she told Davis. “And one of them got away from him and crawled right down the front of Mom’s dress. Dad and Travis thought it was funny, so they tossed a couple more of them at her.”

  “It was not funny,” Amanda said with a sniff.

  “She hasn’t been fishing since.”

  “And I am not about to start again now.”

  “Well, you know Pop’s not movin’ or groovin’ anytime soon either,” Will quipped.

  “Who wants more macaroni?” Amanda rerouted the conversation.

  “I’ll have some,” Will said, raising his hand like a schoolboy and wiggling his fingers.

  “None for me,” Julianne piped up. “In fact, I have to go in a minute.”

  Will straightened, holding a forkful of asparagus in the air in front of him. “Where are you headed?”

  “I’m meeting Suzanne.”

  “You should have invited her for dinner,” Amanda said. “She hasn’t come around in ages. What are your plans?”

  “Shopping,” she replied casually. “I need a new outfit.”

  “Oooh. Something special coming up?”

  “Very. Remember that guy I told you about? The one who saved the dog?”

  “The owner of the toolbox.”

  Will felt his father’s eyes burning a dent into the side of his face, but he held his gaze firmly on Julianne.

  “Yes, I found him and returned his toolbox and work boot,” she explained casually. “And we have a date on Friday night.”

  Amanda’s eyes darted immediately toward Will as she sang, “Oh, that’s nice. I suppose.”

  Great. Now both sides of his face were melting under careful scrutiny. Will shot his father one quick cut-it-out glance before he returned his attention to the thick slice of ham on his plate.

  “Julianne. What do you know about the man?” Amanda asked her with a scowl.

  “Paul is his name and he is a carpenter—part of the crew restoring one of the old Victorians over in Wyoming. And he risked his life to save that dog when—”

  “Risked his life?” Will questioned without looking up from his plate. “That’s kind of an overstatement, Jules.”

  “What do you mean? He got out in the middle of a downpour, walked right out into traffic—”

  “Yes, but did he risk life and limb?”

  “All right, kids,” Davis declared, “that’s enough arguing now, or you’ll both go to bed without dessert.”

  Amanda chuckled as Julianne brightened. “Ooh, is there dessert?”

  “Strawberry shortcake. Shall I make a dish for you before you head out?”

  Julianne nodded and smiled at her mother, the perfect dimples on either side of her face flashing as she did. “Yes, please.”

  Amanda got up and headed for the refrigerator. “Does this carpenter meet any of the points on that list of yours?”

  Julianne glanced over her shoulder toward her mother. “My list?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she replied in an attempt at sounding casual. “I just remember something about a list of qualities you wanted in a relationship. For instance, wasn’t there something about how he had to be a Christian believer? Is this boy a believer, honey?”

  “Well, it’s a little too soon to know that yet, Mom. It’s only our first date.”

  “Okay then,” she conceded. “Chocolate sprinkles?”

  “Of course.”

  At first jingle, Will snatched up his phone from the table in front of him. A text from Lacey James beckoned.

  I guess you’ve heard the news?

  Will typed a quick reply. What news?

  Noms r out for Bar Assoc Person of the Year.

  His breath caught in his throat as he read it. Julianne had been hoping for a nomination three years in a row, and Will knew she deserved it for all of the pro bono work and volunteer time she’d devoted to several local charities. He’d submitted her for consideration all three years, but she never quite made the final cut. Perhaps this year would be different. He’d nailed that nomination essay.

  Jules? he typed.

  His throat tightened slightly at Lacey’s reply. Yes. But someone else 2. Will considered the possibilities as a second text popped up. ME!

  “Put that thing down and finish your supper,” his father reprimanded. Amanda nodded and agreed while Julianne picked up her iPhone.

  “Will!” she exclaimed, popping right out of her chair. “The nominations!”

  “I was just about to tell you.”

  “What nominations?” Amanda inquired.

  “The Bar Association’s Person of the Year awards,” Julianne began.

  “And your daughter,” Will continued for her, “is a finalist.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful.”

  “Ohh,” Julianne said, deflating into her chair again as she studied the screen on her phone. “And Lacey James.”

  “Who’s Lacey James?”

  “I’ve told you about her, Mom. She’s that horrible woman with her radar set on Will.”

  “There’s a woman with her radar set on you, Son?” Davis asked. “What’s she like?”

  “Oh, Davis, she’s awful. Will would never!”

  Lunch tomorrow to celebrate?

  Will examined Lacey’s text for a moment and thought it over, weighing it against Julianne’s certainty that he would never.

  “Mom, I’m going to skip out on the shortcake. I can’t wait to tell Suzanne we have to shop for two outfits! Ooh, Will, maybe Paul will escort me to the awards gala. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

  He glared at her for a moment before defiantly typing a reply, Tan Thai on Court St? 1 p.m.?

  See you then!

  Will watched Julianne glide out the front door for her shopping excursion with Suzanne, and he made his excuses to Amanda for passing on dessert.

  “You headed out too, boy?” Davis asked him.

  “I thought I’d head over to Alec’s and go for a ride. Clear my head.”

  After changing clothes and filling a large resealable plastic bag with chopped apples and carrots, Will jogged out to his car and dialed Alec before shifting into reverse. They’d been chums since grade school, and from then until now, their relationship had been braced by a mutual love of horses. Alec’s family owned about fifty acres of trails and rolling hills out off McKelvey Road. When each of the three Ross kids reached the age of venturing out on their own, each one got a home of their own built right there on the family property. Alec’s place, built for him at the ripe old age of nineteen, reminded Will of an overgrown treehouse, just halfway between the main family house and the stables.

  Alec had given Will carte blanche on the horses, but in all the years they’d been friends, he had never worked up the nerve to just turn up and grab a saddle. He always called first, and Alec said the same thing every time he did: “Bro, I told you. Just come on over anytime.” On this particular day, Alec had worked a late day and expressed some regret that he couldn’t go riding with Will.

  Truth be told, Will didn’t want any company aside from Christie, the blond Palomino quarter horse he’d been riding for years. He could hardly wait to saddle her up and pick up some speed before the sun started to set for the day. Twenty minutes after he and Alec hung up, Will climbed into the saddle, patted Christie’s mane, and the two of them galloped up the dirt trail and over the first hill.

  Will knew the Ross property almost as well as he knew the nuances and slopes of Julianne’s face.
He gave his head a hearty shake to remove her from his line of sight. The only female Will wanted to think about just then was Christie. He still had an hour or so before the sun dropped beneath the hills, and he determined to make the most of every minute.

  “Hah!” he exclaimed, tapping Christie’s sides with the heels of his boots and flapping the reins gently. “Let’s go, girl. Show me what you got!”

  He sensed the horse’s excitement as she immediately took off into a full gallop. Alec often said he thought Christie waited longingly for Will’s visits because there was a four-beat gait harnessed inside her that no one else accessed. She’d been saving it up for him, and Will let out a bellow of a laugh as they climbed the last hill on the property.

  “Whoa. Whoa, girl.”

  With a slight tug on the reins, Will guided Christie to a stop and he dropped over the side of her, both feet thumping to the ground.

  “You’re a great horse, Christie,” he told her, running both hands along the sides of her shiny golden muzzle, scratching into her thick white mane. He gazed into her amber eyes and nodded his head. “That was a great ride, my friend.” Christie snorted and lifted her head with a jerk. “I know. You liked it too, right?”

  Will produced a small bag, and the rustle of the plastic drew the horse’s full attention until he offered her a chunk of apple on his flattened palm. She lapped it up greedily.

  When she’d finished all of the treats he’d brought along, Will led her by the reins toward an overgrown patch of soft green grass. He wrapped the reins loosely around one of the lowest branches of a mature elm before plunking down beneath it and leaning against the whitened trunk.

  He stared out across the vista of green, tracing the property line fence until it disappeared behind a dense grove of trees. In the distance, beneath a darkening pink and blue sky, cars had just begun turning on headlights. Will knew he would have to head back soon. But not just yet.

  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the tree.

  “Father, I need Your help right now. I need to look at her and just see my friend, instead of seeing that Property Of sign I stuck to the back of her jacket when she wasn’t looking. Help me let her go and face reality, to get my eyes off Julianne and back onto You. Lord, help me to move on. I’m ready to move on.”

  Christie snorted, and when Will opened his eyes and looked up at her, she stared right at him, and it seemed for a minute as though the horse laughed.

  “What?” he asked her, and one corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “There’s nothing funny here. What are you laughing at, huh?”

  Will’s cell chimed, and he pulled it from his pocket. Beth Rudd, Jimmy’s wife. He wondered why she might be calling.

  “Beth. How are you?”

  “I’m good, Will. How about yourself?”

  “Pretty great. I’m out for a ride, actually. A buddy of mine from school lets me take one of his horses out every now and then.”

  “Oh, that sounds perfect!” she squealed.

  “You like to ride?” he asked her.

  “Me? No. Absolutely not.” Will’s mouth quirked with a smile. “But my baby sister does. You remember Alison? You met her at the Christmas pageant.”

  “Sure. The schoolteacher.”

  “Yes! I’m so glad you remember because she’s why I’m calling you, Will.”

  “Does she need a lawyer?”

  “In a manner of speaking, I think she might.”

  “William, I am so happy you agreed to have lunch with me,” Lacey sang as she sliced her already-cut salad into small bite-sized strips. “I’m just over the moon about being nominated for Person of the Year. Can you imagine?”

  Well, in fact, he could imagine. Julianne was ecstatic after hoping to make the cut for three years running.

  “So what did they cite as your outstanding accomplishments?” he asked before taking a bite of his orange chicken.

  “Oh, that’s the best part,” she crooned. “They didn’t just name my pro bono work for the women’s shelter, but they also included the fact that I was elected to the governing board.”

  “Were you?” he asked. “I don’t think I knew that. It’s great, Lace.”

  “Thank you. I’m very proud of the work we do over there, William.”

  Will chuckled inwardly. No one had ever called him William outside of a couple of teachers in middle school, but Lacey had latched on to his full name since the day they’d met.

  “How about Julie? What did they pick for her?”

  “Ah, she’s involved in every nonprofit in the Queen City,” he said with a smile. “They named a few of them.”

  “Oh.” Her ladylike expression slipped away for a moment, and Lacey curled up her face in reaction until she caught herself. “I suppose you’ll be escorting her to the gala?”

  Will considered how to answer. “I don’t know, really.”

  “Well, it’s not like she has many other options,” she speculated. “I mean, the poor girl doesn’t exactly keep them around for more than a date or two, does she? And for something like this—a formal evening and all—”

  “She’s been seeing someone new, actually.” He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to jump to her defense, but Lacey’s catty remarks about Julianne’s inability to snag a good man had started to become rather legendary. And Will didn’t like it.

  “Really.” He watched as Lacey’s wheels turned, but what came next caught him by complete surprise. “Then would you be willing to escort me to the gala, William?”

  He took another bite of orange chicken as a short reprieve before answering.

  “Can I get back to you on that?”

  Dean and Maureen Alden’s quaint two-story home sat on a small parcel of land punctuated by a slight grade in the front.

  Not even enough of a slant for kids on sleds to pick up any real speed, Julianne thought as they pulled up out front. But even if they could, the closeness of the street at the bottom of the descent would make sledding impractical.

  “You’re measuring sledability again, aren’t you?” Will asked as he pushed the doorbell.

  How did he always do that?

  “I give it a 2-rating,” she replied. “Too close to the street.”

  Will shook his head and grinned as the front door opened, nudging the brushed nickel knocker to rap lightly.

  “Hey, you two!” Pastor Dean greeted them. “Come on in.”

  Maureen served glasses of iced tea on a bamboo serving tray as they all sat around the glossy dining room table. She straightened the floral centerpiece and set down a plate of butter cookies.

  Will’s favorites.

  He reached for a cookie and thanked her as he plopped it into his mouth.

  “So I’m hoping I know why you wanted to see me,” Pastor Dean said with a sly grin. “Why don’t you tell me if I’m right.”

  Julianne and Will exchanged perplexed attempts at smiles.

  “It’s about Emily,” Will told him, and Dean belted out a laugh.

  “Oh! Well, I wasn’t even close.”

  Maureen emerged from the kitchen. “Our granddaughter, Emily? Can I sit down with you then?”

  “Please,” Will said, waving her into the room.

  Once his wife had settled beside him, Dean sighed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “I guess you know that Rand Winters—”

  Maureen wrinkled her nose and groaned loudly at the mention of his name.

  “—accidentally shot Emily’s pet pig last week.”

  “Accidental!” Maureen exclaimed. “That’s not the version Emily and her father told when she sat right here at this table in hysterics.” Dean pressed his wife’s hand with his own, and she touched her lips with two fingers. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

  “I used to work with Rand,” Julianne told them, “when I was at the public defender’s office. I know better than anyone what a challenging man he can be. But Rand isn’t the kind of person who would do somethi
ng like this on purpose. He is so sorry for what happened. He feels just terrible.” When her conscience poked at her, she clarified. “You know. As terrible as he can feel, he … feels it.”

  One look from Will told her she wasn’t helping at all, and Julianne leaned back against the chair and sighed.

  “Rand is concerned,” Will picked up from there, “that this accident is gaining momentum that can adversely affect his reputation.”

  “You mean that people will find out he shot a young girl’s pet?” Dean asked.

  “Well, frankly,” Will replied, “yes.”

  “And what are you looking for from us?” he asked, glancing from Will to Julianne.

  “Well, I was hoping we could start with finding some way to put a lid on the smear campaign.”

  “What smear campaign?”

  Julianne pulled the pink flyer out of her bag and unfolded it, straightening the creases against the edge of the oak table. She handed Will the paper, and he laid it out in front of them. Maureen’s eyes grew wide and glossy, and the corner of Dean’s mouth quivered.

  “Did Em make this?” he asked.

  “She’s put up dozens of them in their neighborhood,” Julianne expounded. “She’s left them on parked cars, even handed them to people coming out of Kroger.”

  After a long moment of silence, Dean sighed. “She’s a very passionate girl. And that pot-bellied pig of hers was …”

  “Part of the family,” Julianne said with him in unison.

  “Yes,” Dean confirmed.

  “We know,” she told him. “But we’re hoping you can help us come up with something that will make this right enough that Emily will stop the … umm … counterattack.”

  Maureen’s expression told Julianne that they weren’t going to get any constructive assistance from her. In fact, she might have gotten an idea from Emily’s flyer, might have started wondering how to make one of her own.

  “I think an apology might have gone a long way,” she said, her face tilted slightly upward. “Frank says the man never even said he was sorry.”