Connie's Silver Shoes (The Candy Cane Girls Book 4)

by Bonnie Engstrom

  Connie shook the cobwebs out of her head and returned to the moment. Doreen’s soft voice always touched her. For such a tall, and some would say aptly endowed, woman, Doreen’s voice was startlingly melodic. Many people on first meeting her thought it would be deep and booming.

  “Yes, it would be great if you have time to come in today. I just got an idea for you and Jaeda. Remember him? You met him the other day.”

  “Do I ever. But, he doesn’t have a disability, does he?”

  “Only that he’s black.” Connie chuckled.

  “I guess that makes him different from your other male models, like Junior. Does he ride?”

  “Yes, but he rides a different sort of cycle. I’ll send you a website link so you can look it up. Junior won’t be put out. Jaeda’s cycle isn’t a Harley. It has a small sidecar for his little dog. Jake I think its name is.”

  “Is coming in today what you called about?” Doreen asked.

  “Not really.” Connie paused before going into ‘the problem,’ as she called it. Jaeda’s firm words came back to her – “This won’t work.”

  “That idiot,” Doreen exclaimed. “What is he afraid of? His job? His family? And,” she continued, “you two just had one date. It’s not like you are serious, yet.”

  Connie imagined Doreen’s smile on the other end. “No. Not yet, anyway. But, he doesn’t want to even give it a chance.”

  “We will see. I will be there at two, okay?”

  ~

  Jaeda pulled up on his cycle and scooped Jake out of the sidecar. The little dog needed a change of scenery. He was always well behaved, so when he looked up at Jaeda with those dark brown eyes and wiggled his bottom, he couldn’t resist.

  “Oh, how adorable!” Doreen ran toward the tiny canine and scooped him up in her arms.

  “He is so cute!” Connie exclaimed. “Maybe he can be in an ad.”

  Jaeda hadn’t expected this display of emotion for the Jakester. He was glad the women liked him. With Jaeda’s schedule Jake was left alone a lot.

  “Glad you all like him.” He patted Jake’s head, told the dog to sit. He did and wiggled in place.

  Connie got down to business. She had Jaeda and Doreen stand together on the platform. “Hold hands, please. And look at each other adoringly. I need to get this image in my mind.”

  “What about the dog?” Doreen asked. “He is so super cute.”

  “Good idea, Doreen. Jaeda, pick up pup and cuddle him under your arm.”

  Jake was thrilled to be held, but he had trouble being still. After a few treats that Jaeda had in his pocket, he settled down. “Maybe,” Jaeda laughed, “you should give your models treats, too.”

  Connie smirked at him and put on a fake smile. “Maybe I will.”

  She couldn’t remember a model situation going so well. Even the little dog posed and seemed happy. That gave her a crazy idea, or was it crazy?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “What? You want Jake to model?” Jaeda held the phone out in front of him to stare at it. Was she serious? A dog model?

  “Yep. Fun idea. I will design matching outfits for you both. Super cute, and people suck up dog attire.” Jaeda held his breath, then spewed out a whoosh. The idea made him feel silly, foolish even. “I – I’m not sure, Connie. Seems a bit off the wall. You serious?” he asked, hoping she was kidding.

  “Absolutely. It will be a great promotion for my line.” She must have heard his silence. “What’s wrong? You no like?”

  “Not sure. Seems over the top to me.” He thought about how his bank colleagues might see the ads, him in the same fashion attire as his little dog. Ugh. Embarrassing. Few of them even knew he had a dog, especially a diminutive one. Nor a modeling career. This could ruin his real career.

  ~

  Connie stewed. What was wrong with Jaeda? She thought he’d be pleased little Jake would be part of the new line. Guess it was the old macho thing. Unless … the dog was a big, drooling rescue dog, or close. She called Doreen.

  “I think it’s a great idea. Maybe he has some ego issues?” She made it a question, probably hoping Connie might know.

  “I never thought about that, but maybe.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “He is a big man, stature wise. Maybe that is an issue for him. I thought him confident, not into worrying about petty opinions.” She asked another question of Doreen. “You think his color might have something to do with it?”

  “Can’t say, but never would have thought about that after meeting him.”

  “He seems reticent. I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position, but I love the idea of the male and dog model combo. And,” she continued, “he is doing this to make up for his budget mistakes.”

  “I have an idea,” Doreen said. “Remember Candy’s mom’s dog, Striker?”

  “Sort of. What?”

  “He is a big, lumbering dog. Maybe I could have him as my dog. That way it wouldn’t be just a tiny dog, but two that would appeal to more audiences.”

  “Does Striker know you? Would he be comfortable with you? And, you with him?”

  “That dog would be comfy with anyone who gives him a treat. He would sit at my heals salivating.” Doreen laughed. “He has a sweet face, too. I think it would be worth a try.”

  ~

  Connie got all excited about the dog idea. What would make it even more fun was Doreen, tall and slender, but very feminine, with Striker; and tall, masculine, buff Jaeda with tiny Jake. That and the two skin colors. This could be a breakthrough for her design business.

  She started sketching, then she called her seamstress and photographer. She went online to explore fabrics, but even with her merchant number they would take too long to arrive. She wanted the fabrics yesterday. She jumped in her car and pulled up next to Fabric Depot. If she could find the perfect fabrics that she could order quantities of online? That was the question. She clasped her hands in front of the steering wheel and prayed. Surely, God had given her this idea.

  She dragged several bolts of fabrics from her car and set them up near her drafting table for inspiration. She had been assured she could order them online in quantity, and reorder them on her merchant account. To make sure, she got it in writing.

  She went to work doing what she did best. It was two a.m. when she flipped over a blank page on her sketching pad. She was satisfied, she had done her best, God’s inspirations.

  Doreen came for a pre-fitting Monday afternoon. She had borrowed Striker who lumbered next to her, and, unfortunately, slobbered. He was a sweet dog, loved the attention and sat still when asked. Connie thought how adorable he would look in plaid.

  “I don’t want to diss your ideas, but don’t you think plaid is not right for a big dog?” Doreen said. “Seems like little Jake would look cute in plaid. How about camo for Striker? Or, stripes?”

  “Plaid is all the rage this season,” Connie said. “What about tiny plaid for Jake and bigger for Striker? And big plaid for Jaeda and small for you?”

  Doreen thought about it, then said, “Try it. You have sketches?”

  Connie brought them out, and before any fabric was cut donned Doreen and Striker in shawl-like drapes for effect. Jaeda finally showed up with Jake. Both seemed to grimace at being subjected to this somewhat embarrassing situation. He tucked the little dog under his right arm and turned toward Doreen.

  “Hey, man, smile,” she said. “This is the fun part when we can give input and our opinion about the fabs.”

  “The fabs?”

  “Fabrics, how they look, colors, our ideas to the designer.”

  “We get to do that?” He sounded confused.

  “Yes. Connie is all open to ideas, and,” she said, “opinions. Our opinions matter since we will be wearing her designs in ads and on the runway.”

  “What? In ads? Runway? Online, too?”

  “Yes, print ads, and yes online. Sometimes YouTube.” Doreen looked at him head on. “You have a problem with that?”

  “Not sure. S
ort of took me by surprise.” He looked at Connie. “This part of the deal?”

  “Yes, Jaeda, but you can opt out of it. You decide.”

  “Maybe I will.” He sounded very firm.

  ~

  They had fun with the plaid ideas and found themselves in fits of laughter, especially about the dogs in the design. All at once Connie raised her arms and shouted, “Yes! Got it.”

  Jaeda and Doreen looked at her with puzzled expressions.

  “We won’t overdo the plaid. In fact, too much plaid is distracting to the eye. Little Jake,” she rubbed the tiny dog’s ear, “will have a plain doggy vest with a plaid collar. Jaeda will sport a plaid tie matching the design in Jake’s collar, and … maybe plaid pants.” She tilted her head and scratched her ear. “Hmm. Might be too much, make Jaeda look like a wannabe dandy.” She laughed at her own mental illustration.

  “Whew!” Jaeda blew out a breath. “And, by the way, Connie, black guys don’t wear plaid.” His hearty laugh boomed through the room. He apparently couldn’t resist more humor, so with a stone face, he leaned forward nearly slipping off the pedestal. “But,” he said in a flat, controlled voice, “they do swim.”

  Doreen couldn’t contain herself and she, too, almost toppled off the pedestal she was laughing so hard. “Hey, Con, we could make him an honorary member of the Candy Canes.” By this time all three of them were holding their sides, and the two startled dogs both woofed. What was even funnier was little Jake’s penetrating bark was almost louder than big Striker’s.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Connie was swallowing her laughter and ended up hiccupping, noisily. That set them all off again. Finally, after turning her back and holding her nose, she found control. “Back to work, gang. I can’t afford to pay for hilarity breaks. But, it was fun.” She stepped back and surveyed Jaeda’s tall form. “No, you don’t have a plaid physique. You’re too conservative to dress like a groovy guy.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

  “I like the idea of a plaid tie, Con,” Doreen said. “But, what about a linen blazer with plaid elbow patches? Or, would that be too much?”

  “Hey, I have a pair of plaid high tops in my collection. That might be the finishing touch,” Jaeda said.

  “What do you mean ‘collection’?” Connie asked. Both women stared at him.

  “Oh, when I was on the team in high school and then college, I started collecting shoes. Some are copies of famous basketball greats, like Michael Jordan, and some are just cool ones I fell for and couldn’t resist.”

  “You played basketball? Makes sense. How big is your collection?” Connie was curious.

  “About two hundred and fifty.”

  Doreen gaped at him, and Connie whistled. “I can’t believe it. How big is your closet?”

  “Bigger now that it’s just Jake and me,” he said with a grin. “Actually, I do have a pair of plaid laces. More subtle than the shoes. Or,” he went on with his brow furrowed, “you could roll my pants up, and I could wear plaid socks.” He was laughing, but Connie wasn’t.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said, “you have a plaid cycle helmet, too.”

  “No, but I do sometimes wear a plaid shirt when I ride.”

  “And, you said you don’t like plaid.” She was mocking him, and he knew it, but played along.

  “I have an idea, too.” Jaeda raised his dark eyebrows as if asking permission to share.

  “Go for it.” Connie grinned.

  “I like the little jacket idea on Jake with a plaid collar. I assume a turned down collar on the jacket? Sort of like a shirt collar?” he asked. Connie nodded.

  He leaned down and patted Striker on his broad head. “Amazing dog, but too big for a cutesy collar on a jacket. Actually, too big for a jacket. Clothes are for tiny dogs – shiatzus and min-pins and doxies. How about a wide dog collar and leash in plaid?”

  Connie clapped her hands. “I love it! Now, for Doreen.”

  “How about a floor length plaid pleated skirt?” Doreen said. “No, you wouldn’t be able to see Striker’s leash. It would blend.” Then she snapped her fingers. “A plaid sarong with fringe, and the long part would hide my orthopedic shoe, but the other side would be open almost to the waist. That’s the side Striker would be on.” She waited for Connie to visualize and nod.

  “You and Jaeda would have to change places since it’s your left foot we want to hide, and he would have to hold Jake in his left arm.” She closed her eyes and spoke. “You have beautiful legs, Dor, especially the right one. Oops. Hope I didn’t offend you.” She looked concerned.

  “Nope, very realistic about the whole leg thing.”

  “Maybe a scarf at the neck, or a cute floppy straw hat with a plaid band?” Connie was still thinking.

  “I love the hat idea, especially since summer is approaching. You could even put a plaid clip-on bow on my one sandal.”

  Connie grinned, spun around and clapped her hands together. Jaeda and Doreen got the picture – she was happy.

  ~

  She stayed up half the night sketching, and when they all arrived Tuesday afternoon late, because of Jaeda’s bank job hours, she popped a bottle of fizzy apple cider. She whipped out sketches and laid them on the big cutting table. Handing each a plastic glass she said, “We celebrate!”

  The two models pointed to the elaborate sketches and made a few suggestions, but nothing Connie couldn’t live with. They were both creative and had a grasp of style. The new plaid line would soon be a reality. Alice came in and made a few suggestions, too, based on cut and the woof and warp of the fabrics. “You sure you can order these fabs in quantity?” she asked.

  “Got a signed release from the fabric place. My merchant number will work online. Just tell me, after you measure these two, how much you think I should order. I want to keep the designs exclusive enough for only twelve outfits each. Obviously, in varying sizes.”

  “Will do,” Alice nodded. Connie had faith in her. The woman was amazing at calculating sizes and fabric amounts. Maybe she should have helped with the windfall budget process.

  ~

  It was time. She must confront Jaeda soon about his relationship reservations. The more she was around him, especially the last few days for the fittings, the more she was attracted to him.

  His physical attributes made her knees weak when she looked at him, especially on the designing pedestal. She remembered being close to him during the waltz at the Balboa Pavilion. She had nestled her nose in his neck and wanted to bury it there. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. He had smelled so good she had almost asked him for the name of his cologne, but didn’t want to break the spell of the moment. The fast dancing with the spinning and Jaeda swinging her was exhilarating, leaving her breathless. But, that Vicki girl had almost spoiled it. Connie was determined she wouldn’t let her. After she flung the imaginary snake off her arm like Moses had and stomped on it, she felt relieved. And guilty. Vicki was a sad case. Needed prayer. So, Connie sat down on her sofa and prayed for her.

  ~

  First she called Doreen, then Natalie. Both reassured her she did the right and godly thing praying for Vicki.

  “Buff up, girl,” Doreen said. “You have to examine your heart. Yours, not anyone else’s.”

  “You can’t let her determine your relationship with Jaeda,” Natalie said with conviction. “Only God can do that.”

  She still hadn’t shared the dating across races thing with the other Candy Canes. Was it because she feared they would discourage it?

  “Noelle answered in the middle of fixing dinner. Can I call you back?”

  She refused to bother Candy on her second honeymoon, so she emailed Cindy in Costa Rica. It was much easier to explain in an email post.

  Finally, she dialed Melanie’s number. Surely, God had led her there.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Connie was shocked to hear Melanie’s story. She had known about the baby that Melanie had refused to abort, but had a miscarriage instead. Stress the doctors had said. But,
Melanie had never shared what the stress was.

  “He was black. From the South, very traditional southern African-American. Into black liberation, sort of like the Black Lives Matter movement is today, but not quite as organized. Wanted nothing to do with me except my body.” She sighed, and Connie was sure her eyes were filled with tears.

  Connie wept with her. That’s what Candy Cane sisters did. Then she asked. “How did you meet him? What was the reason and the attraction?”

  “I was a college sophomore. I believed in supporting liberation to right the wrongs in racial tensions. We met at a rally, then later joined a sit-in.” Melanie sighed loudly and continued. “He was so sincere, and so gorgeous. I had never met anyone like him. Tall, muscular, handsome. But, black. He had a way of touching me, not sexually, just lovingly. But,” she finally said, “it was all a sham. Found out later he just wanted to bed a lily white woman. Like a notch on his belt.”

  Connie hung up the phone after praying with Melanie and thanking her for her candor. What a mess relationships could be. Even those, she thought, between ethnicities like Irish and Italian. Her background was English, French and Swedish, so she’d been led to believe. Still, white and black was more challenging.

  She called Jaeda.

  ~

  Jaeda wasn’t sure he wanted to pick up his phone. The caller display said Connie. Was he ready to talk with her? He bit his lip, said a short prayer and answered.

  “We need to talk,” they both said in unison. Then, they laughed.

  They decided to meet at good old Starbucks. Thank goodness they had that option.

  Connie arrived first, attired in of all things, plaid. Even though she looked adorable, Jaeda laughed.

  “Couldn’t resist,” she said, laughing, too. “You up for a walk? Maybe on the beach?”

  He nodded loving the idea. More private. “But, what about your shoes?” he asked looking down to the delicate silver sandals.