If The Shoe Fits (7 page)

“No, silly.”

No one had ever called him silly before
either.

“I’ll draw a card. High card wins. Aces
high.”

“Wins what?”

“You, of course.”

He coughed a couple of times. “Me?”

“And you win me. High card, win, win.
Marriage, eventually the baby carriage.”

His chest tightened. “And if we don’t
win?”

“Poof! We go our separate ways. Me to restore
King’s back to the grand store it once was and you to your dinner
parties, blind dates, and whatever else you do to find yourself a
wife.”

It sounded as dreadful as what he’d been
through the last few months. Nodding toward the cards she now held,
he said, “Go for it.” In the back of his mind, he prayed.

Mesmerized, he watched her expertly shuffle
the new deck. “You’ve done this before.”

“Drawing for marriage, no way. Cards and
Dolly on a Saturday night, definitely.”

He chuckled at the image that sprang to his
mind. Hopefully Dolly would come through for both of them.

Charlie handed him the deck. “Your turn.”

At his quizzical look, she went on, “Hold
them up facing you and fan them out.”

Alex quickly completed the task, but he had a
difficult time looking away from the vision of each card duplicated
by the next. He refused to look over at her; he knew she’d see the
truth in his eyes. Perspiration trickled down the back of his neck.
Would she call him out?

Luckily for him, she reached over and plucked
the middle card. She turned it around to read it.

“Ace of hearts,” she murmured. “Go
figure.”

He swallowed hard again. Alex quickly folded
the rest of the ace of hearts back into a deck and stuffed them in
his shirt pocket, joining her silky nylons he’d tucked in there
earlier.

“I win,” he said, trying to block the elation
from bubbling up inside of him.

“Correction, we win.” Her conviction brought
a wide smile to his lips and warmth through his middle.

“Yes, we do win.” The knot of anxiety in his
chest at duping her with the cards eased. He took a deep breath.
“So I guess this means yes to my proposal.”
Late, but still a
yes
.

She winked. “You’ll do.”

He laughed outright at that.

She rose quickly, gathering her things.

He tensed. “Wait. Shouldn’t we discuss
details, rings, and all of that?” He stopped from ending with
and all that nonsense
.

“No ring.” Her firm voice said it all.

“You’re kidding me?” He’d never heard of such
a thing.

“No engagement ring. I hate the competition
and the flashy rocks. Wedding rings, yes. Plain. Simple.
Meaningful.”

She robbed him of speech. Never in his life
had he met a woman who’d turn down a rock, as she so succinctly put
it.

“The wedding. We’ll keep it secret for now.
Small, yet lovely. Private. Only family and a few close friends.
And soon. Dolly and I will work it all out.”

Was she always this decisive? He could get to
like it very much.

When she remained silent, he asked with a
grin in his voice, “Anything else I should know about?”

She crossed the room with long, confident
strides. At the door, she turned fully to him, flashing a wide,
easy smile that reached all the way to her sparkling eyes. Tingles
swept through his body straight to his toes.

Tapping a finger on her lips as if in
thought, she said, “Oh yes! You have to court me.”

“Court you!” He couldn’t disguise the shock
reverberating through him.

She chuckled, opened the study door, and then
turned back to him. “That’s right. After the wedding.” She closed
the door behind her.

Stunned, all he could do was burst into
laughter.

“She surprises me, Grandfather,” Alex said as
he stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in his grandparents’
library. “Every day, almost in every way. Imagine that.” The last
drifted away.

His gaze took in the scene outdoors. The
small garden had been transformed into an impromptu wedding. Arches
draped with flowers and vines, less than twenty white folding
chairs circled nearby, and ribbons and flowers attached to the
chairs outlined the aisle his bride would soon walk down. Tables
waited in the distance, set with the finest linens, silverware,
china, crystal stem ware, and with the finest food prepared by the
top chefs. The few guests, in all their beautiful finery, arrived.
Even from here he could hear the buzz of activity, the clinking of
glasses, and delighted voices.

“Really, son? All women surprise me.” His
grandfather’s gruff voice was soon followed by a few coughs.

Alex turned his back on the view. He frowned
as the coughs came in fits and spurts. His grandfather, once so
powerful and self-possessed, now seemed to have lost control of
this battle with his health.

A prick of sadness pierced his chest. He owed
everything to this man. Today, on his wedding day, he’d prove it,
too. He could give his grandparents that much. He’d marry for them
and soon produce the great-grandchild they longed for. He sighed
inwardly.

Crossing the room, he took the armchair near
the older man.

“Have I ever really thanked you,
Grandfather?” He struggled with a well of emotion.

Grandfather, with his snowy-white hair and
mustache to match, leaned his tall frame back. He smiled. “I’m not
dying yet.”

Alex winced and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I didn’t—”

The older man held up a hand. “No, no. Just
teasing you.” He sobered. “I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve
thanked your grandmother and me over the years.”

“If it weren’t for you both…” He shuddered at
the possibility of not being saved by them.

“We couldn’t turn our backs on a boy who’d
survived the plane crash his parents just died in.”

Silence and sadness descended.

“But the way you did it. You could have sent
me off to boarding school, checked in on weekends and holidays,
paid the expenses and—

“Not given a damn,” his grandfather
interrupted with a growl in his voice. “That never crossed our
minds. Not once.”

A smile tugged at Alex’s lips. “No, Gramps,
it wouldn’t have.” Admiration spread through his middle.

At Alex’s use of his nickname, the older
man’s face relaxed and he beamed. “You’re a fine young man.”

“Not so young anymore,” he corrected.

“You get to be my age and we’ll talk, all
right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m proud of you. Oh, not just for the
things you do and get accomplished. It’s how you treat people, how
you go the extra mile. And why? Because, son, you care. You have a
great heart.”

Taken aback, Alex remained speechless. After
a few silent moments, he choked out, “Thank you. You humble me. All
my life I wanted to be like you, in business and in life. Now I
think I’m getting there.”

But was he? Something nudged Alex in the back
of his mind. If his grandfather knew everything, would he still
admire what Alex was doing to Charlie? Would Gramps think Alex had
such a good heart then? Guilt pricked at him.

Alex had put getting married and having a
child on the top of his agenda since his grandparents’ health began
to fade. Now he’d found the woman, never suspecting that he’d come
to care for her in such a short time. To please his grandparents,
he’d marry her today, but to keep his word with her stepmother, he
was going to have to hurt Charlie.

Sometimes, he hated what he had to do. Would
Charlie end up hating him, too?

***

“Go on, shoo now, I tell you.” Dolly shut the
door behind her and let out an exasperated sigh.

Clutching her red cosmetics bag, Charlie
crossed from the bathroom into the bedroom. “What was that all
about?”

“That man of yours.”

Surprised, Charlie stopped in her tracks.
“What did Alex want?” Was he going to call off the wedding now that
she’d warmed up to the idea? Her heart hitched.

Since the day she accepted his proposal,
she’d been getting used to the idea of being a part of a real
family again.

Dolly waved it off. “Oh, he just wants to
talk to you, that’s all.”

“And that’s not important?”

Her friend nabbed her by the arm and steered
her to the dressing table. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before
the wedding, honey.”

Charlie sank into the small chair. “We don’t
have to see each other to talk.”

“Talk, see, same thing to me.” She leaned
around Charlie and picked up the hairbrush.

She glanced over at the phone. “I could call
him.”

“Nope. Don’t be stirring up no bad luck
now.”

A loud knock sounded on the door.

“Now what?” Dolly asked, handing over the
brush to Charlie. “If that’s him again, I’m going to have to get
tough this time.”

Cringing, Charlie turned in her seat and
leaned sideways to get a better look. Maybe she’d be able to shout
something to him. Was he getting cold feet? A sliver of dread
dropped into her middle.

“If I told you once, I told you twice you
can’t see her, got that, bub?” Dolly scolded as she whipped open
the door. She stopped, frozen like a statue.

The silence was deafening.

“Dolly, what is it? Alex, is that you? Is
something wrong?” Charlie rushed to the door.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Dolly
sputtered at the sight.

Reaching her friend, Charlie nearly lost her
footing. “Francine. Priscilla.” Her throat closed up.

Standing before her were visions of beauty.
Gone were the usual black, dreary, and do-nothing-for-them dresses.
The bridesmaids’ gowns were similar in fashion, yet Dolly had done
wonders at sculpting the fabric ever so slightly here and there to
bring out the girls’ best features. “I, oh, I can’t believe…” Only
nonsensical things emerged from Charlie.

The sisters cried out in unison, “We’re so
beautiful, don’t you think?”

Charlie nodded, dumbfounded. All speculation
on Alex’s request to see her flew out of her mind at the sight of
her revamped sisters.

“And it’s all thanks to you and Dolly.”
Francine twirled in the light blue satin gown Charlie had
specifically designed to accentuate her small waist. The V neck
hinted at the swell of bosom.

Priscilla, in pale green satin, brought them
back to where they were. “Can we come in? We’re here to help you
get dressed.”

They entered the room, closing the door
behind them. Their uncharacteristic girlish giggles had Charlie
glancing at Dolly. The older woman’s wide-eyed stare had to mirror
her own.

“Damn, we’re good,” Dolly said.

“Apparently so.”

Charlie hooked her arm through Dolly’s. They
faced the remarkable change the make overs had wrought, not only in
looks, but in their emerging bubbling personalities.

“Mother’s cozying up to an elder gentleman
downstairs, so we slipped on past her. Please don’t let Mother see
us until the wedding,” Francine pleaded. “She’ll have a hissy-fit
and tell us to tie back our hair.” She turned her head this way and
that, the lush sweep of blonde hair swinging gently around her
shoulders.

For the first time, Charlie noted the
professional styled hairdos. Coming closer, she fingered
Priscilla’s silky auburn tresses. “How many inches did you get cut
off?” Awe tinged her voice; she’d never seen the sisters in
anything but one dreary style all their lives.

“Almost ten inches of hair, can you believe
it? Francie only got eight cut off. But I just fell in love with
this shorter bob. Don’t you just love it?”

“Yes,” Charlie said in all sincerity. “It
does wonders for you.”

Dolly chimed in, “Now, we just gotta get a
little makeup on the three of you, and presto, the King sisters are
transformed right before everyone’s eyes. Imagine that.”

The next half hour went by in a blur for
Charlie. Between her and Dolly, and lots of fun and laughter, they
skillfully applied the lightest of makeup on Francine and
Priscilla, bringing out the warmth of their eyes and the
who-would-have-ever guessed full lips and high cheekbones. Next,
the trio had worked their magic on Charlie, making her hardly
recognizable as the woman staring back at her when she finally
slipped into her white satin wedding dress.

“Quit crying,” Charlie chided. “You’ll make
me cry.”

It didn’t help. Dolly burst into tears. “Oh,
you are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. If only your momma
and daddy could see you now.”

Charlie bit her lip and blinked back the
sting of tears at the mention of her parents. “He’d probably be
swiping his forehead with his handkerchief right now as he tallied
up the expenses for the wedding,” she said with a well of fondness
and a hint of a giggle in her voice.

The others chuckled.

“You ain’t kidding, honey. Your daddy was an
angel but the last few years he was alive, when it came to money,
he’d count every penny.” Dolly sniffed and then urged them to grab
their bouquets.

Less than ten minutes later, Charlie made her
way down the grand staircase and through the large, elegant home.
“I have to go,” she whispered to the three women assisting her down
the garden stairs. She couldn’t get a glimpse of Alex yet; he was
at the altar farther in the garden, obscured by the lightly winding
trail.

“No you don’t. It’s just nerves,” Dolly
chimed back.

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Hah! I’m nervous for you. I could go, too,
but we don’t have the time.”

“We’ll go for you,” Francine said, elbowing
Priscilla. “Isn’t that right?”

“How do women wear these things?” Priscilla
asked, stumbling slightly.

“High heels, honey?” Dolly asked.

“No, thongs!” she said rather loudly.

There was a chorus of laughter from the
nearby attendees.