If the Shoe Fits

by Sandra D. Bricker

  “I meant to. I just … forgot.”

  “You forgot,” he snapped.

  “Will, we were in the seventh grade! Don’t you think you should have forgiven me by now? I mean, this is what you’re mad at me about today, all this time later? You just woke up this morning and thought, ‘Wait a minute! I can’t believe Julianne didn’t go horseback riding with me in the seventh grade. I think I’ll treat her like dirt on my shoe.’”

  He groaned and turned away from her, muttering something that she couldn’t quite make out.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said no one would know about treating someone like dirt on their shoe better than you.”

  Julianne gasped, and her entire body straightened. It felt like a rod had been rammed straight up her back. “What a horrible thing to say to me!”

  His expression melted slightly, and he gave a deep rub to his temple. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Will. What is wrong with you?” She waited at least twenty seconds for his answer, but it never came. “We might be stuck in this elevator all afternoon, for all we know. And I’m not letting up until you tell me what you’re so mad about.”

  Another several beats thrummed by before he finally rolled toward her and stared her down.

  “You’re really going to pay that idiot five hundred dollars to take you to the gala?”

  Oh, for crying out loud.

  “That is what’s got you all worked up?”

  He sighed, shifting the weight of his entire body from one foot to the other, but he never broke eye contact even for a heartbeat.

  “Will, are you kidding me? Why does this bother you so much? Okay, it’s kind of humiliating that you know what I’m doing, but it’s not like I’m putting him on the payroll. I just want to have one magical night … a night where all of our friends and acquaintances—for just one perfect minute—can’t look at me and see Loser. Why can’t I have that? And why is it so offensive to you? I don’t understand. Please help me understand.”

  “Really?” he asked strangely. “You really want to understand why it bothers me so much?”

  “Yes! Of course I do.”

  “Okay,” he said, and without even a flicker of forewarning, Will stepped toward her, placed his hands on her shoulders, pressed her back against the elevator wall, and kissed her.

  And he kept on kissing her.

  Until she couldn’t breathe … until her head began to spin … until she actually saw stars.

  “Well, what did he say afterward?” Suzanne asked her, and Julianne pressed her phone hard against her cheek as she shook her head.

  “Nothing. I mean, there wasn’t time. The minute he pulled away, the elevator bumped, and then the doors opened, and there were uniformed guys waiting to get on and check it out.”

  “So, what, he just …”

  “Walked away! Yes.”

  “Without a word,” Suzanne recapped.

  “Not a single one.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I’m not sure. I think I just watched him leave. And then I walked to my car.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Still sitting here. I haven’t even left the parking lot. I can’t. I’m sort of just … stunned. Like one of those coyotes running across the road, and a car comes barreling around the corner, and the headlights hit them and they just stand there with their eyes real big and their little paws cemented to the street. That’s me. I’m cemented.”

  “Do you want to meet me?”

  “I can’t. That’s the worst part. I’m already half an hour late for a meeting.”

  “Well, call them and tell them you’re on your way,” Suzanne suggested. “Do some deep breathing on the drive over, and be careful…. And call me later.”

  Julianne simply nodded.

  “Are you nodding?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I’ll call you. Later.”

  “Hey, Julianne?”

  “Huh?”

  “How was it?”

  “What?”

  “The kiss,” Suzanne enunciated. “How was it?”

  She gulped down some air over the answer she didn’t have.

  “I’ll call you,” she finally said, and she disconnected the call.

  How was it?

  Suzanne’s question reverberated. In fact, its echo was nearly deafening.

  She couldn’t very well tell Suzanne that it might have been the best kiss she’d ever had. Nor could she admit to the sudden memory of another kiss like it, one that took place outside the front door of her condo not so long ago, one that she’d been certain she’d dreamed until that moment in the elevator when it had come back to her at supersonic speed.

  What had she been thinking? I kissed Will.

  That night when she’d fallen asleep in the car. He’d walked her to her door, and … she’d wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him toward her and … and … kissed him. And it had felt so natural—and yet simultaneously so once-in-a-lifetime—that she’d carefully placed it on the shelf of her memory behind some books and knickknacks and trivial souvenirs to look at more closely at a later date.

  And that later date had arrived, ready or not! Julianne had become a sort of expert at not seeing what God placed before her, but that was then. And this was … now. There would be no avoidance of facing this fact anymore. She’d kissed him. And she liked it.

  Had Will interpreted her kiss as a sort of sweet-tasting but unspoken pledge of some kind that had been broken with her returned attention on Paul Weaver?

  But didn’t he realize that it was nothing more than a date? And a paid one at that? The truth was that Paul Weaver had been a huge disappointment with his tuxedo-hating, piggyback-ride-forcing ways. He was so right when he said they had nothing in common.

  And what did Will expect to accomplish by planting a retaliatory kiss of his own on her? Surely, he wasn’t looking for something long-lasting and epic between them. That hadn’t ever been who they were at the core of their relationship. They were best friends. Always had been. No amount of real kisses or fake romances with handsome, great-on-paper carpenters was going to change that. Their friendship was the only thing true-blue in life, in fact.

  Will was just as much family to Julianne as Davis or Suzanne, or even her own mother! They couldn’t go around messing with that. Surely Will knew that.

  Then why did he kiss me that way?

  The sudden shrill jingle of her iPhone broke her chain of thought, and Julianne quickly picked it up.

  “Julianne Bartlett.”

  “Are you still in the parking lot?” Suzanne asked her.

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “I’m going. Right now.”

  “I knew it. Drive carefully,” her friend admonished her. “Please.”

  “You kissed her?” Alec asked as Will tossed a saddle on Christie and buckled it beneath her belly.

  “I kissed her.”

  “Ah, bro.”

  “I just laid one on her.”

  “And then what?” Alec asked him. “She must have been shocked.”

  “That’s the worst part,” he replied, fastening the saddlebag and tugging to test its hold. “I just walked away and left her standing there. You should have seen her face, man. She looked like she’d just been hit by a stray bullet.”

  “So … what does this mean? Do you have feelings to back up that kiss? I mean … what are you gonna do now?” Will wished he had the answer.

  “I’m going to take my best girl for a ride,” he said, tenderly smacking Christie’s flank. “She’s got all the answers. I just need to ride them out of her.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure for an old quarter horse,” Alec remarked with the shake of his head. “I don’t envy you, girl.”

  “See you later?”

  “I’ll be around. They’re driving in with my new filly today. A Hanoverian for show.”

  “You’re planning to compete again?”

  “Yeah, it’s in my blood, I guess.
Stop by the east stable and check her out after your ride.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Will climbed up on Christie and gave her a loving pat. “Okay, girl. Let’s roll.”

  The Palomino set out and walked across the open yard and past the paddock. The minute they hit the grass, Will snapped the reins, and Christie took off at a full gallop toward the trail.

  Did he have feelings to back up the kiss he’d planted on Julianne? He often thought over the years that he had enough feelings for the both of them, even though he knew good and well that a whole couple couldn’t exist on one person’s love.

  “She’s not limited to having just one friend, is she?” his pop had told him that day Julianne had stood him up for a skating date with Denny Witherhorn.

  And apparently Julianne just didn’t see him as more than a friend. Not then, and not now.

  He’d checked his cell phone a dozen times that afternoon in search of a voice mail or a text message, some indication that she’d had time to mull over that kiss and knew they’d need to discuss it. He’d even phoned the office from the car outside the stables to check with Phoebe about anything pressing … any inquiries … any sign of a conversation of substance in his future.

  “Nope. We’re all good here,” she’d said. “See you in the morning.”

  “Well, just tell Julianne that I got the charges bumped down for Rand. Rand will cover the medical bills before the guy is prosecuted for robbery, and the D.A. will drop the attempted murder charge against Rand.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Phoebe had exclaimed. “Do you want to tell her yourself?”

  “Nah,” he replied. “I’m in the car. You can tell her. It wasn’t much of a case anyway, so we got lucky on this. If we can just get Rand to get rid of that gun like he agreed to do, he might have a shot at staying out of jail.”

  “That’s a big if,” Phoebe had teased. “Have a good evening.”

  At the top of the ridge, Will dismounted and stood next to Christie, gazing out at the horizon. He reached into the saddlebag and produced his phone, checking it one more time for any messages.

  A short-and-sweet text from Alison. Call me?

  But no voice mails.

  A box full of email, but nothing from Julianne.

  Flicking Christie’s reins around a low branch, Will dropped to the grass and leaned back against the thick trunk of his old faithful elm. As a gentle spring breeze caressed his weary face, he closed his eyes and began to pray.

  “Ah, Lord. What have I done?”

  Suzanne sat on the floor, leaning into the green chenille sofa against Julianne’s steely plum living room wall as Charming wrapped himself around the curve of her leg, snoring softly. She only stopped smoothing the dog’s soft yellow coat long enough to draw a sip from the steaming mug of coffee and set it on the table in front of her.

  “This is really yum. What flavor is it?”

  “Chocolate glazed donut,” Julianne replied. “With vanilla cream.”

  “Is that what you’re having, too?”

  She nodded and took a long, warm draw from her cup.

  “Is it helping?”

  “Chocolate always helps,” she said without opening her eyes. “Even when it doesn’t.”

  “So are you all set for this weekend?” Suzanne asked her.

  “Except for my best girlfriend abandoning me? Yes. I’m all set.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied softly. “Especially now, I really wish I didn’t have to fly out in the morning.”

  Julianne balanced her cup on the arm of the brown leather club chair and sighed. “Me, too.”

  “The dress is exquisite.”

  “Thank you for the shoes, Suz. They fit perfectly.” On second thought, she added, “Well. They don’t fit my feet perfectly. But they fit with the dress perfectly. You know.”

  “Yes.” Suzanne grinned at her. “I called Neil this morning and made you an appointment for Saturday afternoon. He’s going to do your hair and nails and makeup so you look like a real glamour girl. And it’s on me.”

  “You did?” Julianne studied her friend’s soft face. “That’s so sweet.”

  “Well, I won’t be here to help you, so …”

  “I really appreciate it, Suzanne.”

  “The appointment is at four o’clock. Don’t be late because Neil gets pretty ugly if you mess up his schedule.”

  Julianne grabbed her iPhone from the table and accessed her calendar. “Putting it in right now. Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  “Not five! Four!”

  Charming jumped, lifting his head and looking around the room with sagging, sleepy brown eyes.

  A string of giggles peeled out of Julianne as she picked up her cup again. “I know. I’m just yanking your hair.”

  “Don’t you abuse the relationship with Mr. Neil. He’s one of a kind.”

  “I promise,” she said, grinning as she crossed her heart.

  “Have you given any thought to calling it off with Paul, and just asking Will to take you instead?”

  Julianne lifted one shoulder in a tentative shrug. “It would be so awkward now.”

  “You know what would make things less awkward, Julianne? Talking to him about it.”

  “I know, and I will. I’m just not ready to do that yet.”

  “Well, you’re running out of time before the gala.”

  “I’m aware,” she replied. “That’s why I’m going with Paul. I can talk to Will once I’ve thought it through and know just what I want to say.”

  Suzanne narrowed her hazel eyes and frowned. “Julianne. You’re going to put him through that? Aren’t you just looking for an excuse to keep the date with Paul so that everyone can get a load of him on your arm?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, and she tripped over her thoughts. “Well, yes. I mean … no.”

  “Confused much?” Suzanne remarked.

  “Never more than now,” Julianne muttered.

  She and Suzanne finished their coffee in relative silence. Julianne spent the time staring at the gorgeous dress hanging over the door to her home office. The steel-blue color of the fabric drew her eye, complemented by a thick rhinestone-encrusted empire waist and a flared knee-length skirt supported by a stiff crinoline petticoat. Shimmering crystal beads adorned the sheer ivory bolero-type jacket, and the shoes Suzanne had purchased separately seemed like a perfectly executed match for the vintage party dress.

  “Make sure to get pictures,” Suzanne remarked, and the silence shattered into a million shards beneath it.

  “Sorry. What?”

  “Pictures. After you get dressed for the gala.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” Suzanne told her as she carefully pushed up to her feet without disturbing Charming. “I’m not packed yet.”

  Julianne set her cup on the end table and rose from her chair to deliver a grateful hug. “Thank you so much for the shoes. And the support.”

  “Anytime.”

  As Suzanne reached the front door, she turned back and smiled at Julianne. “Ivory shimmer.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Your stockings. You should wear ivory shimmer stockings with that dress.”

  “You just can’t resist, can you?”

  “What! They’d be fabulous!”

  “Good-bye, Suzanne.”

  She stood in the doorway watching as her friend walked toward her car.

  “Fashion control freak!” she teased.

  “And?” Suzanne called back to her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Julianne chuckled, waving one more time before she closed the front door.

  Settling back down into the leather club chair, she picked up her coffee mug and sipped the last of it as she gazed at the beautiful dress again.

  What a shame, she thought. Wasting such a spectacular dress on a phony-baloney date. That kind of dress belongs on the arm of a real-deal Prince Charming.

  And that’s
when it hit her like a burlap sack full of bricks and mortar.

  Julianne picked up her phone and pressed #1 on the speed dial.

  “Hey, Will,” she greeted his voice mail as she mindlessly twisted the thin silver ring around her thumb. “It’s me. Listen, I have something I want to ask you, and it’s pretty important. So will you give me a call when you get this?”

  The instant she disconnected, her iPhone jingled. Caller ID designated the origin as the Hamilton County Courthouse, and she shot a glance at the clock.

  Nearly six o’clock. She had nothing pending; no juries out, no rulings in play. Surely she wasn’t being summoned for another pro bono order this late in the day!

  “Julianne Bartlett.”

  “Miss Bartlett, it’s Bridget Ferguson. Judge Hillman’s bailiff.”

  “Yes, Bridget. How are you?”

  “I’m well. Thank you for asking. Judge Hillman has requested the pleasure of your company.”

  “Has he? Can you give me a clue?”

  “I wish I had one for you. He just asked me to call you and invite you to his chambers sometime before the end of business tomorrow. How does ten-thirty work for you?”

  She couldn’t very well turn down a judge’s request, but especially not one from Judge Hillman, after what he did for her with the Veronica Caswell connection.

  “Ten-thirty it is. You’re sure you don’t know what it’s about?”

  “It’s a mystery.”

  “Well, I don’t mind a good mystery every now and then,” she replied. “I just hope there’s a satisfying ending to this one.”

  “Here’s hoping,” Bridget answered. “I’ll let him know to expect you at ten-thirty.”

  Still wondering about the mystery at hand, Julianne’s thoughts drifted to Will. In an effort to think about something else, she decided to order a pizza and curl up with a couple reruns of NCIS for the night.

  After a small pepperoni and mushroom arrived and she’d changed into her favorite pajamas—pink flannels with metallic hearts embroidered on the sleeve of the top and the hem of the matching capris—she grabbed a diet root beer from the refrigerator and propped a few cushions against the arm of the sofa. A couple of hours with Charming and Mark Harmon should do the trick!

  Yet even Mark Harmon’s piercing blue eyes and salt-and-pepper crew cut couldn’t dissuade the nervous nellies from chirping out Will’s name as they bounced around inside her belly.