Dancing Shoes

by Lynne Gentry

  “Thirsty?” Saul held out a stemmed glass. She’d been so taken by the scenery she hadn’t noticed his return to the porch.

  “Lemonade?”

  “Fresh-squeezed with a dash of champagne. Made it myself. Brave enough to try it?”

  “You’re not the only one who believes in trying new things.” She took the glass and lifted it to her lips. “Bottoms up.”

  For the next twenty minutes, Saul carefully finished up dinner and tended the steaks, all the while encouraging her to relax and unwind. She didn’t know how to unwind. She hadn’t unwound in thirty years. But she gave it her best shot and let her body sink into the cushions while her eyes drank in the serenity. By the time Saul invited her to join him in the gazebo, her legs were jelly. She blamed the loosening of her limbs on the combination of fresh air and alcohol, neither of which she was used to. But as Saul seated her at a small round wrought-iron table inside the gazebo, she thought perhaps she should blame this unsettling contentment upon the man.

  His hands resting on the back of her chair, he leaned in and whispered, “There goes the sun.”

  She looked out across the lake. It was hard to concentrate on the fiery streaks of red and gold slicing through a bank of deep purple clouds with this man’s warm breath heating up the back of her neck.

  “I love how the colors of the sky are mirrored on the water.” He slipped into his chair.

  Sitting in a serene world drenched in color, Leona’s hand drifted to the warm spot beneath her ear. “God’s paintbrush, J.D. used to say,” she said softly.

  “Indeed.” Saul offered her his hand. “Shall we pray?”

  She lowered her hand and rested her palm in his. For the first time in all her years of praying she didn’t close her eyes. It seemed far more reverent to soak in this divine picture of sky and water, each so different, yet so perfectly matched that the line between them disappeared.

  In the quiet approach of evening, she listened for God’s voice while a man she barely knew, yet somehow felt as if she’d known forever, spoke reverently to God.

  His words to the Creator were like him. Short, direct, and to the point. When he finished his blessing, Saul raised his head and smiled. “Dig in.”

  Leona spread a cloth napkin across her lap. “So Claire grew up in Texas?”

  “No. Her father was a military officer.” Saul cut into his meat. “She grew up moving from base to base, as did I.” He cut off a perfectly grilled piece. “Unlike me, however, she could always trace her roots back to this place, the land where her great grandfather trapped mustangs on the creek to sell to the Mexican government.”

  “He must have been quite the cowboy.”

  “He’s buried over by the chimney stack. His stone is one of the few that refuses to submit to the wind.” Saul popped the meat in his mouth.

  “A stubborn cuss in this life, and beyond.”

  Saul burst out laughing. “Exactly.”

  They ate in comfortable silence as the unexpected joy in Saul’s deep laugh drifted over the water. Leona wondered if there was more to his wife’s family story, but for some reason she was content to let Saul tell it in his own time.

  As if he’d sensed her desire to hear more, Saul wiped his mustache. “In the late eighteen hundreds the city wanted to dam up Claire’s great grandfather’s creek to secure water for the city. That old cuss went to war with the powers that be to fight the injustice, but in the end, as you can see, he lost.” Saul pointed his fork toward the graveyard. “According to Claire, legend has it that every time the moon is full, her great grandfather’s spirit wanders the lake demanding justice.” Saul took a drink of his Mimosa. “I’ve yet to see him.”

  “If you did, I think you’d be friends.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Justice. It’s what usually draws men to the law.” She forked the last of her buttery potato to her mouth. “My father had the need to right wrongs. My son has it, too.”

  “You and J.D. did a fine job with your family.”

  “Are you admitting that meddling has its place?”

  “Claire and I never had children.” His wistful tone plucked at Leona’s heart. “I had no right to tell you how to raise yours.”

  An owl hooted in the darkness settling in the cove.

  “Tell me about her, please.” Did she really want to know about a woman who had come from such impressive stock? Too late now.

  “We met on opposing sides of a court martial,” Saul perched his silverware on the edge of his empty plate. “By the time she’d finished kicking holes in my airtight case, it was too late. I’d already fallen hopelessly in love with a force to be reckoned with.” He drew in a deep breath. “We were both ambitious. Intent on climbing the ranks. I was especially determined not to let our hasty marriage keep me from taking my career by storm or seeing the world.”

  “You’ve seen the world?”

  “I have.”

  “There are so many places I want to see.”

  “You’ve got the money now.”

  Why did he always mention the money? Was he the gold digger of David’s accusations? “Aren’t there places you want to see?”

  “I’m content here.” He looked at her. “Obviously, you aren’t.”

  Roy’s offer, along with his enticing smile popped into her head. “I don’t know.”

  He let his gaze drift to the water. “Three months after Claire and I said I do, we accepted assignments apart. I went abroad as a prosecutor. I saw much of the world while she remained a stateside defender.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  Lights that had been strung along the rails of the catwalk leading to the dock suddenly came on. “They’re on a sensor.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “Shall we dance?”

  Realizing he’d taken her as far as he intended on this insightful trip down memory lane, she started stacking the plates. “Shouldn’t we clean up first?”

  “Dishes can wait. The perfect moment for dancing cannot.”

  Thinking the man was as layered as an onion and just as difficult to peel, she watched as he dashed up to the porch, snagged her shoes and returned them to her at the gazebo.

  The distant strains of a boat motor zipping across the lake buzzed in Leona’s ears as she buckled her dance shoes. Saul pulled his dance shoes out from beneath his chair and had them on and laced in a flash. He went to the old fashioned record player sitting beside their table. After lifting the lid, he flipped a switch and set the needle down on the spinning vinyl. “Nothing like a little Cole Porter to channel your inner Fred Astaire.”

  “I didn’t know anyone played vinyl anymore.”

  “Good dancing requires good music.” He held the screen door open. “Hope you’ve been practicing, Ginger.”

  Leona looked up from fastening the tiny buckle on her pumps. “Where are we going?”

  “The dock.”

  “Kendra said we shouldn’t wear our shoes anywhere but on the dance floor.” She did not want to ruin this moment by confessing her fear of water, but her heart was beating so hard against her lungs she could barely breathe. “What if we just push the table back? Make more room in here?”

  “You can afford new shoes, Leona.” He had her there. “Sun’s been down long enough the mosquitos shouldn’t be too bad. Besides, the breeze off the water usually keeps them away.”

  “The water?”

  “You haven’t danced until you’ve danced under a full moon reflecting off the water.” He nodded toward the orb rising over the roofline of the house. “And tonight’s light show promises to be a stunner.”

  “But what if we fall off the edge?”

  He closed the screen door. His shoes padded across the stone. “Are you afraid of water?”

  She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes. “I don’t swim,” she confessed.

  He lifted her chin. “And yet, you sat by the lake all evening without saying a word.” Compassion in his voice softened the
hard knot inside her.

  “I’ve actually enjoyed looking at it.” Her eyes rose to his. “For the first time ever.”

  He lifted his left palm. “Put your hand in mine.” The tenderness in his eyes dispelled her caution and compelled her to follow his order. She placed her right hand in his. His arm slipped around her waist. “Trust me.”

  His left foot slid forward and her right foot slid back. Before she knew it, they were waltzing around the gazebo. “Ready?” he asked as he spun her around.

  She kept her eyes locked on his and nodded.

  His hold on her secure, Saul pushed the screen door open with his elbow. They waltzed off the stone terrace and danced their way toward the lighted catwalk leading to the dock. He gracefully backed onto the wooden planks, pulling her with him in one easy move. Her breath caught in her throat. With both feet on the boards, she knew now was the moment of commitment. Either she ran for higher ground or she danced on water.

  “You’re alright.” He pulled her closer. His mustache tickled her cheek as he began to whisper in her ear, “Look only at me. Now left. Right. Slide. Together.” Eyes locked on his, rather than the water lapping the pilings, she floated across the bridge spanning the water.

  By the time they reached the dock’s platform, her heart rate was higher than the water level and her breathing so shallow, she could barely sputter, “I can’t—”

  “You are,” he reassured and held her tight against him. “Just dance, Leona.”

  Strains of Cole Porter’s Let’s Do It cut through the thrum of blood rushing to her head. Saul took the lead, sliding and gliding with the beat. Though she could feel the sway of the dock beneath her feet, she danced with more abandon than if her feet had been on solid ground.

  The moon climbed over the trees. Let’s fall in love, the song repeated over and over.

  So she did.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Leona had eaten lunch at the Koffee Kup for the second day in a row, hoping to accidentally run into Saul. Granted, she wasn’t up on the latest in post-enchanted-evening protocol, but she was beyond caring whether staking out Saul’s favorite eating establishment appeared a bit forward. It had been three days since their dance. How long should a woman have to wait to hear from the man who’d turned her world upside down? She checked her phone again. No texts. No missed calls. No word from the man who’d convinced her to dance on water.

  She closed The Intelligent Investor, snatched her lunch ticket, then headed for the cash register. “The chicken salad was good, Ruthie.” She handed over a twenty and waited for the change. “You and Angus are quite the dancers.”

  “That boy is the best thing that ever happened to me.” Ruthie dug in the cash drawer while peering over her glasses at Leona. “Saul’s even comin’ round to Angus’s good points.”

  The mention of Saul’s name sent a flush of heat to Leona’s face. She quickly looked away and pretended to be interested in the meringue pies. “Saul been in lately?”

  “Me and Angus ain’t the only ones who cut a fine rug last Friday night.” Ruthie sorted bills and coins into Leona’s hand. “You could call him, you know? Finish your business.”

  “Our business?”

  “The business of life. ’Bout time you and Saul got on with it, don’t you think, Leona?”

  Ruthie could read her far better than she read any of her recipes. If Leona didn’t change the subject, and quick, Ruthie would zero in on her fear that Saul had not felt what she felt as they danced under that full moon.

  Leona stuffed her change into her purse. “I’m so excited for Angus and his college opportunity.”

  “Lord blessed us, for sure.” Ruthie closed the cash drawer with her hip. “Still don’t know who to thank, and that financial aid guy ain’t tellin’ us. You wouldn’t have any ideas would you?”

  She wished she did. An idea suddenly hit her. What if Howard had made those withdrawals from the Davis checking account to secretly help Angus? Maxine hadn’t forgiven Ruthie’s grandson for the pot brownie incident so it made sense that Howard wouldn’t want to tell her about how he was spending their money.

  Leona leaned over the counter and pecked Ruthie’s cheek with a kiss. “You’re a peach, Ruthie Crouch.” She shot out the diner door, anxious to find Maxine and share the possibility she’d been wrong about Howard having a mistress.

  Bam. She ran smack into Saul.

  “Leona?” His hands cradled her shoulders. His gaze shifted to the investment book she clutched to her chest. A pleased smile crawled out from under his mustache. “Been reading?”

  How dare he not call and then tease me like I’m some teenage school girl. “Maybe.”

  He chuckled and leaned in. “I’ve missed having you plow into me.”

  “Have you?” She backed up. “How would I know?”

  “You said you needed time.”

  “Three days?”

  He pulled off his sunglasses and gave her a puzzled look. “I know I’m rusty on the dating rules of conduct, but I didn’t want to rush you.”

  Dating? Did he consider that night at his lake house a date? “You could have at least called to check—”

  “Hey, LeLe!”

  Leona turned. Roy barreled toward her. “Modyne told me I’d find you here.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her temple. “I brought you something.” He thrust a beautiful coffee table book with Africa in the title at her without even noticing the investment book in her hands. “Want you to see where we’re going, get a feel for the adventure you’ve dreamed of your whole life?”

  “Going?” Saul’s bewildered gaze quickly morphed into confusion that darted from Leona to Roy and back to Leona.

  She tried to discreetly wiggle free before he got the wrong idea, but Roy snugged her tighter, pressing the thick investment book and African picture book into her ribs. “Well, I haven’t—”

  “Hey, Saul. It is Saul, isn’t it?” Roy stuck out his hand, but didn’t wait for Saul to respond. “LeLe and I are heading for Africa as soon as I get back from visiting a couple of supporting churches in east Texas, isn’t that right, LeLe?”

  “Well, like I tried to say—”

  “Africa?” Saul’s hurt hardened into a daggered glare he hurled Leona’s way. “You’re flying? Over water, Leona?”

  “Of course she is.” Roy kissed her temple again. “It’s too far to walk and too wet to drive.” He chuckled, pleased as a peacock at his joke. “LeLe, I hate to do this to you, darlin’, but those fundraising commitments will keep me out of town until Sunday morning. I’m afraid I’ll have to miss our dance lessons.” Roy spun toward Saul. “My good man, you and LeLe cut a fine rug the other night. Could I impose upon you to give my girl a twirl this Friday night?”

  His girl? Leona sputtered, “Maddie’s coming home this weekend. I probably won’t have time for dancing—”

  “Sure you will...LeLe.” Saul’s tone took scissors to her nickname while his steely stare cut straight through her attempt to duck out of this conversation. “I’d be happy to go a couple of rounds on the boards with your girl, Roy.” Saul shook Roy’s hand and before Leona could protest, or defend herself, or explain that she wasn’t Roy’s girl, Saul announced, “I’ll pick you up at eighteen-thirty, LeLe. I’m late for court.”

  “Eighteen-thirty?” Roy asked as they watched Saul double-time it toward the courthouse. “A strange duck, that one.”

  Leona whirled. “What were you thinking, Roy?”

  “That you need a good man to take care of you.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  His dumbfounded look melted into concern. “LeLe, what’s wrong?”

  She thrust his picture book into his gut. “I haven’t agreed to go to Africa. Saul Levy is not a strange duck.” She hugged her investment book tight. “And I’m perfectly capable of finding my own dance partner.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Leona hauled warm clothes from the dryer and deposited them on
the couch. Doing laundry felt normal. Something she knew how to do. Something she could do right. And before Maddie walked through the front door, she wanted to feel as if she could do something right because, obviously, she didn’t have a clue how to start a new relationship with a man.

  “I don’t waste time fretting over missing socks.” Roxie plopped into one of Leona’s new club chairs and helped herself to the Chex mix on the coffee table. “Every time one sock goes missing, it comes back as a Tupperware lid.” She tossed a salty square into her mouth.

  In no mood to be cheered, Leona moved the bowl of cereal. “That’s for the party.” She hated feeling this cranky. A first grandchild was supposed to be a happy time for grandparents. Grandparents. Plural. Both of Amy’s parents had died before J.D. That left the sole responsibility of grandparenting on Leona’s shoulders. Of course, Amy’s Aunt Bette Bob would act as a surrogate grandmother, but the truth was, Leona would be walking this journey alone.

  She was grateful Roxie had coerced the news out of David. Having someone besides her lawyer to share in her joy helped. “You think the Welcome Home sign on the front porch might be a bit much?”

  “Maddie’s going to smell a rat when Parker shows up.”

  “Hence the reason for a party.” Leona gathered the small stack of folded towels. “Parker is one of David’s dearest friends. Why wouldn’t he be invited to their pregnancy reveal?”

  “Because David and Amy aren’t revealing they’re pregnant to anyone until Sunday.”

  “I invited Parker because he’s one of David’s best friends.”

  “Hell’s bells, Leona.” Roxie scooped up another handful of party mix. “You can tell yourself whatever you want.” Roxie munched one crunchy piece of cereal at a time as she followed Leona down the hall. “But directing David and Maddie’s lives is doing nothing to fix yours.”

  “He’s called. Left messages. Texted.” Leona shoved the towels in the cupboard. “I’m not dancing with a man who won’t give a person a chance to defend themselves.”