Ruby's Slippers (15 page)

“I always wondered what happened to those shoes.” Tim stops beside a wooden bench. “I understand your Momma wore them on her wedding day.” The trees offer a cool respite as we sit in the shadows. “Got her dream, I guess.”

“Only for a short time.” Maybe that’s why Momma never mentioned them again. “Do you think they’re the real ruby slippers? Not just some imitation?”

“I’m no expert.” He rubs his jaw. “I suppose your grandmother was gifted enough with a needle to make her own. Wasn’t she originally from California?”

“She was. She met my grandfather after the war and moved to Kansas to his family farm. He died not long after Momma was born.”

“Your grandmother earned money by making dresses for folks. I believe she made several for my mother over the years.”

“I wonder why she never went back to California?”

He draws a slow breath. “Ah, not an easy thing to do, pack up and leave.”

“She used to talk about the great designers, the actors and actresses she met. I was still young when she died, but I remember. And Abby … well, I always thought her stories of Hollywood fed Abby’s dreams. Momma thought so too. But why, if those shoes meant so much to her, didn’t she tell me about them?”

“Maybe Ruby’s dreams died when your father left. Maybe she quit believing.” He indicates we should walk on, and we do in relative silence, only the scuff of a shoe, the crunch of gravel, the rasp of my breath accompanies us. Then he asks, “Are you thinking Duncan stole them from her? Maybe hoped to sell them, use the money?”

A cold knot settles in my stomach. Could guilt have made him bring the shoes to me? If so, then maybe he won’t be happy to see me.

We reach the top of a summit where Sophia and Leo are waiting for us. I feel light-headed from the exercise.

“Look out there.” Leo throws his arm wide.

I step toward a railing and look out over a red waving sea, a field of ruby red. “What is it?”

“Cranberries,” Leo says. “It’s a cranberry farm.”

Water covers the fields, making the berries undulate. “Why is it flooded?”

“They’re being harvested. The fields are flooded, and the berries float to the surface.”

“They’re beautiful,” Sophia exclaims. “Can we go down there?”

“Sure. They sell dried cranberries as well as other baked goods.” Leo turns away from the railing. “Dottie, you okay?”

I don’t feel okay. I break out in a sudden sweat. Then the ground rushes up to meet me. The edges of my vision go dark.

* * *

“SHE’S COMING ’ROUND.”

I feel like I’m climbing a rope out of a dark pit, one hand over the next.

“Dottie!” Sophia calls to me from somewhere far away.

Something rock solid and warm cradles me. I want to sink into the warmth and sleep. It’s the same feeling I had coming out of the coma, which frightens me. I struggle to push away from the darkness. I open my eyes to the concerned faces of my friends.

“What happened?” Sophia asks.

“I’m okay.” I struggle to get up. Leo holds me, his arms banded around me. “Really.”

“Did you eat today?” Sophia asks.

“She wasn’t hungry at breakfast.” Tim bends over me. His sharp features are soft with worry.

“She didn’t eat any popcorn.” Leo’s voice, so close, so low and rumbling, makes me look up. I realize I’m in his arms. He brushes dirt from my face, his fingers gentle, making my nerves buck. “Just rest easy a moment,” he says.

It’s that same exhausted feeling that seems to sneak up on me and overwhelm me at times. Suddenly all I want to do is sleep.

“Oh, dear!” Tim says, his voice far away. “She’s passing out again! Should we take her to a doctor?”

“She’s just tired,” Sophia says.

I manage a nod. “I just need to rest. I’m okay.”

My eyelids feel heavy. A warmth surrounds me.

“We’re not too far from the Jeep,” a deep voice resonates through me.

Remembering the walk to this spot, I think it’s a long ways.

“She’s been pushing too hard,” Sophia says. “Her doctor told her to rest.”

“Her doctor?” Leo asks. “What’s wrong with her?”

Sophia explains my circumstances, how we met in the facility.

I don’t hear Leo’s response, but I’m listening for it, waiting …

Then I relax into a deep sleep.

We’d best stop for the night.” Sophia’s voice penetrates my fog. I force open my eyes, then shutter them as intense sunlight slashes through the side window. The Jeep sways beneath me. Otto is curled against my tummy. I feel warm and comfortable and want to go right back to sleep. I’m lying on my side, my head resting on … my hand rubs against roughened material. Jeans. A leg! I jerk upright, knock into something hard. Someone behind me grunts. Leo rubs his chin. “You okay?”

“Oh, good, she’s awake,” Tim says. “My dear, we were so worried about you.” I probe the new tender spot on the back of my head and reluctantly meet Leo’s penetrating gaze. “Are you?”

“I’ve had worse.” He works his jaw from one side to the other.

I reach out to touch his jaw but pull back. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly I’m embarrassed that I needed rescuing. I’ve always been the capable one, the one Momma leaned on, the one others depended on.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I manage, not knowing what else to say. “For … helping.”

“My pleasure.” His tone makes me feel even more uncomfortable. My nerve endings vibrate. I meet his smiling gaze and quickly look away. “You a Pink Floyd fan?”

“What?”

“Pink Floyd, the rock band. You a fan?”

My brow scrunches into a frown. “Why?”

“You were humming one of their songs.”

“I was?” Heat rises to the surface of my skin again.

“Sounded like Pink Floyd anyway.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. “The songs that have been spinning around my head for weeks. They’re from a Pink Floyd album.
Dark
…
dark
…”

“
Dark Side of the Moon
?” he asks.

I remember Momma playing it late at night. The songs would often put me to sleep.

Sophia shifts around in the driver’s seat, leaning forward, peering out the windshield. “Any ideas on where we should stay?”

“Let’s go on.” I readjust Otto onto my lap, avoiding Leo’s steady gaze. “It can’t be that much further.” I want to be there. Yesterday.

“There’s a hotel not far.” Leo stretches his arm along the back of the seat, skimming my shoulders, bumping my ponytail. “Not fancy, but clean.”

“Sounds perfect,” his mother says. “My treat.”

“I called it first.” Leo opens the bag of popcorn he folded up earlier and searches for a few more edible kernels. He offers them to me.

My stomach rumbles and I take the few bits, my fingertips grazing his warm palm. I avoid his gaze that makes me feel vulnerable.

“Dried cranberries?” Leo hands me a bag of dark-red, shriveled-looking raisins. “They’re good.” Before I can thank him again, he lurches forward, leaning between the two front seats. “I’ll take care of the motel. Does everyone want their own room? Or do we want to bunk up?” He grins back at me, laughs at my shocked expression. “Don’t worry, we’ll let Mom and Tim stay together. And you and I—”

My jaw drops lower.

“Gotcha again!” He tips his head back and roars with laughter.

He faces the front again, his broad shoulders too wide for the space between the front seats, and directs his mother to a motel advertising free wireless connections and cheap rates.

We sort out the luggage, Leo taking the majority of it. He opens one door and deposits my suitcase along with Sophia’s.

“Next time.” He winks at me.

I’m pretty sure he’s not serious. He couldn’t be interested in me. But a part of me warms to the thought. Closing the door on his smug face, I refuse to admit my heart is
racing. My irritation reassures me. What woman wouldn’t be annoyed by that man?

“We’ll be right next door.” His voice is muffled by the closed door, but I detect a lilt of humor.

With a huff, I turn from the door, crossing my arms over my chest.

A glimmer of a tear touches Sophia’s eye. She reaches forward and touches my arm. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For insisting we visit my son.” She taps her heart, resting her hand there. “And then inviting him along … nothing could make me happier.”

I brush off smudges of dirt from my pants and check the mirror. What a mess! I decide to change clothes before we go to dinner. Not to look nice. Just to be clean and decent.

* * *

AT DINNER LEO gives me a long, slow once-over with those insolent eyes, noting my new apricot shirt and white slacks. My insides feel like they’re glowing. I regret not staying in the other outfit. I sit on the opposite side of the table from Leo, creating something of a buffer zone. But those eyes keep looking right at me. Leo breaks all the rules of propriety. Didn’t Sophia ever tell him not to stare? Not to kiss his teacher? Not to talk politics?

“He was more crooked even than Nixon!” Leo declares and reaches for the rolls. “He doesn’t have a prayer to win the election.”

Thankfully we’re the only diners remaining at the quaint seaside restaurant. I wish I’d stayed at the motel or in the Jeep
with Otto. I’m exhausted and can barely hold my eyes open as I order soup.

“You need something more substantial,” Leo says. “Meat. It’ll build back your strength. Bring her a steak,” he tells the waitress.

Who died and made him my boss? “But I don’t—”

“Sure you do.” He gives the waitress a nod to go ahead and jot down my order.

I glare at him but decide not to argue further. The waitress can bring me a steak, but I won’t eat it. A decidedly childish decision. This man brings out the worst in me.

The steak arrives a few minutes after the shrimp bisque, which is light and delicate, and the sizzling smell mingles with the warm scent of Sophia’s salmon and Tim’s linguine. My stomach traitorously rumbles. Leo carves into his own medium-rare steak, gobbling it down like a starving animal.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Leo watches me as I spoon up the thick, rich soup I ordered on the side.

“I’m enjoying my soup, thank you.”

“Oh, you two!” Sophia shakes her head. “Just admit you like each other.”

I choke on the soup, and Tim pats me on the back. Leo grins at my discomfort.

Sophia turns her attention to her own meal, drawing a deep breath. “This salmon smells delicious. Anyone want to try it?”

Tim nods, and she cuts off a hunk of her salmon and places it on the edge of his plate.

Leo leans his elbows on the table, looking directly at me. “I’m just trying to help you. Don’t read anything into it.”

“Read what?” I give him a blank stare, trying for
innocence, and enjoy watching his face darken. I emulate a move Abby would make and bat my eyes. “That you care?”

He carves into his steak, starts to shove a bite into his mouth, but pauses. “Hey, not my concern at all. Next time you faint, I’ll just leave you in the roadway for someone else to pick up and carry.”

I decide I am way out of my league trying to tease or manipulate this man. I don’t have Abby’s skills. Looking toward the wide windows that stretch along the restaurant overlooking the Pacific Ocean, I can’t see the waves, but I feel their turbulence churn inside me. I shove aside the bowl of bisque, rearrange the plates, and yank off a hunk of bread.

“Why are you on this journey?” Leo asks, chewing hard and fast.

“I told you.” I grab the knife beside my plate and concentrate on cutting my own steak into bite-size pieces. “We’re going to Seattle to find my father.”

“Uh-huh.” His brows tighten into a frown. He glances at Sophia and Tim. “What else?”

“Nothing.”

Tim clears his throat. “Should we tell him?”

“It’s Dottie’s decision,” Sophia says.

I keep cutting my steak, the little bites piling up. I don’t want to discuss the ruby slippers. I don’t want to discuss any part of this trip. I’m not sure whether Leo would laugh at the idea of selling the shoes to save the farm, but the slight possibility is enough to keep me from saying anything. But the silence at the table begins to make me anxious. “Why don’t you tell us more about you, Leo? What are you doing living all alone out in the wilderness?”

“Enjoying life. That all right with you?”

I shrug and take a bite. The steak is juicy and tender. “If that’s what you want.”

“Who doesn’t want to enjoy life?” Leo has already eaten half his steak.

I chew slowly, having learned to take food at a slower pace. “So that’s what you want? To live alone? In the middle of nowhere?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. The same could be said about me. “Don’t get me wrong. That’s okay.”

“I’m liking the idea of my cabin a lot better right now. Were you volunteering your company?”

“Oh, you two!” Sophia shakes her head.

“I’m not going to see my father for him to give me a handout, if that’s what you think.” Why did I say that? I scold myself to drop the subject.

Most of my life I felt I had some control. How hard I studied determined my grades. How hard I worked in the fields determined how the crops grew. But recent events have left me feeling out of control, as if I have no say in my future. Leo, for some reason, makes me feel as if I’ve lost control of my emotions too.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You did in the car.”

“Okay, so why?” He crosses his arms over his chest and watches me. “Why are you going to find him? Does he owe you money?”

“No. I just …” I decide the blunt truth is the best way out of this adversarial conversation. “I’ve waited too long to see him. He left my mother when I was four years old.”

Leo nods, as if understanding my need to know the man whose genes I carry. “Why now?”

“Is that what you’re hoping for?” Tim gently implores. “To finally have a relationship with your father?”

I shrug, surprised at the emotions that churn up inside me, whipping up like a cyclone at the thought. “I can’t deny I’d like that. But I don’t expect it either. Still, maybe after all this time he’s ready.” Unless my father stole the shoes.

Sophia sips her tea and I imagine her quietly thinking,
Believe
.

“You’re brave to go after what you want.” Leo leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

But I’m not sure I know what I’m ultimately after. My dad? The farm? The ruby slippers? Something that belonged to my mother? Or grandmother? Right now, I’d like to go home. “And what do I want?”

“Family.” Leo’s voice is as gentle as a caress.

Leo’s answer rips the roof right off my heart, and I scramble to gather my flailing emotions about me. I feel raw, exposed. I stare at my plate and realize a hunk is missing from my steak. It’s now a hard lump in my belly.

“There’s a family for everyone,” Sophia says. “Sometimes it doesn’t meet society’s expectations. But it can be just as satisfying, just as encouraging. Sometimes more so.”

I nod. Could I be content with just this little group of friends for family? I believe I could. They have each given up their time and so much more to help me. And I want to help them. Isn’t that what a family is?

“I am grateful for you.” I put a hand on Sophia’s back, my throat tightening. “And Tim. I never thought I’d have an uncle of my own.” Much as I dislike admitting it, I’m grateful to Leo too. “Even you, Leo. You’ve all helped me so much.” Pressure builds behind my eyes. “I’ll always be grateful.”

“There’s a plan for everyone.” Sophia touches the corner of her mouth with the linen napkin and smiles at me. “You’re on your way to finding yours.”

“But what if there isn’t a plan, a rhyme or reason or sense to anything? Maybe life is just hard,” I say. “Leo says he’s enjoying life, but for me it’s always been a struggle. That’s my reality.”

“Maybe this is all there is.” Leo shoves a bite in his mouth and chews forcefully as if he’s willing to be devil’s advocate. Which suits him.

“That’s not what I taught you.” Sadness deepens Sophia’s voice.

“Maybe what you taught me was all nonsense. God wasn’t real to me the way he was to you, Mom.”

“Now, now.” Tim gives an uncomfortable cough.

“Because, son,” she speaks in a quiet, yet authoritative way, “you were too busy with your own agenda. You wouldn’t relinquish control.”

These words take aim at my own heart.

“Not anymore. I’ve let everything go.” Leo leans back, tipping his chair on its hind legs, his arms wide, seemingly defenseless. But I sense he has more layers, more protection.

“You said you found God in the wilderness,” I interject, trying to ease the friction at the table.

“Not the way you imagine.”

“How then?” I need to know, need to feel God is there, that I’m not all on my own.

“He’s in creation. You can see it in nature. Unless you’re determined not to. But does God care what I do?” Leo flops his chair forward. “God watches from a distance, if he watches at all. He doesn’t have a plan, for my life or yours, Dottie. They don’t teach that in Sunday school to little kids
because it’s a hard, cold reality. But as an adult, it’s something we all have to face.”

“Maybe you don’t think he has a plan,” Sophia’s voice is wispy thin. “Or maybe you’re afraid to hear what God might say or what he might ask you to do. Man was made in God’s image, but man imposes his own weaknesses and failings on God, until God seems as powerless as we are.”

Leo tosses his napkin on the table. “I didn’t ask for you to show up on my doorstep. I didn’t ask for your advice or your opinion about my life.”

Before any of us can utter a word, he stalks out of the restaurant and into the night.