The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers

by Cynthia Thomason

  She’d readily accepted donations of furniture when she was setting up the apartment, thinking herself frugal and clever. Now, with Liam in her living quarters, the term stubborn came to mind. Her sisters had offered to update the apartment at different times, but Jude had always turned them down, insisting, “I don’t need anything. Wesley and I are fine.” She ended by suggesting instead that they donate to the Paul O’Leary Foundation.

  She handed Liam a glass of tea and hoped that maybe he wouldn’t notice the eclectic jumble of objects that made up her life. Maybe her space was cluttered, but underneath all the minutiae of her and Wesley’s existence, her world was polished and waxed.

  Liam took his tea and pulled a chair from underneath the dining table. He sat down and gave serious attention to the items Wesley had spread out in front of him.

  “My project is about constellations,” Wesley said, sliding over the four-syllable word with ease. “I’m making a chart to show what constellations look like and what they’re called.” He looked into Liam’s eyes as their guest nodded slowly, showing what had to be exaggerated interest.

  “Did you know the constellations have names that look like things?” Wesley asked. “There’s one that’s called the Big Dipper. One is called the Great Dog, and another the Swan.” As he recited the names, Wesley placed a matching picture cutout on the poster board. Soon the white cardboard became a microcosm of the night sky with streaks of white against a dark blue background.

  “Some constellations you can only see some times of the year,” Wesley said. “Like Andy Meade.”

  Liam smiled. “Andy Meade?”

  “I think that’s what it’s called.”

  “Aren’t you thinking of Andromeda?” Liam offered.

  Jude stood at the entrance to the kitchen, her hand on her hip. So the accountant knew a bit about astronomy. Maybe his interest in Wesley’s project was genuine. “Tell Liam when he can see that one,” she said.

  “Only in November and December,” Wesley said. He grinned. “That’s now! The stars will be really bright around Christmas.”

  “I’ll definitely have to take a look,” Liam promised.

  Jude glanced out the window. “Johnny Ray is here, Wesley. No more stalling. You have to go down and help him with the goat herd.”

  “Aw, Mom, do I have to? Liam and I are just getting started.” He looked at Liam. “You really like constellations, too, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “Maybe we can persuade Liam to stay until you finish with the goats,” Jude said.

  Wesley looked to Liam for confirmation. Liam nodded. “My pleasure.”

  “Now go on,” Jude said. “There are three of you to help. You, Mutt and Johnny Ray. You’ll have the goats in their pen in a few minutes.”

  Obviously understanding his part in the process, Mutt stood at the front screen door, his paw scratching the metal frame, his tail wagging.

  “Okay.” Wesley grabbed the jacket he’d hung on a hook and trudged to the door to open it for Mutt. “I’ll be right back, Liam.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Jude waited for the sound of Wesley’s footsteps to fade before she turned to Liam and said, “Thanks for being so attentive to Wesley.”

  “It’s no problem,” Liam said. “I’ve been interested in astronomy since I was his age.”

  “Before you got interested in numbers and finance?” she said.

  “Way before. When I was a kid studying the stars, I probably never pictured myself as a bean counter. But now I find financial highs and lows fascinating.”

  Jude carried his glass to the sink. “I don’t know what Wesley will choose to be when he grows up. He flits from one thing to another. Now it’s astronomy.”

  “How does he handle himself around the goats?” Liam asked. “He’s so young for such responsibility.”

  Jude tried to detect a note of disapproval in Liam’s voice. Finding none, she said, “I train him carefully for everything he does around the farm. And besides, goats have a herd instinct. All Wes has to do is basically open the gate and they all go through. And Johnny Ray is there if anything goes wrong. It’s an easy job but gives Wes a feeling of accomplishment.”

  Liam nodded, leaned back in his chair. “Why don’t we use this time to talk about some of your foundation issues?” he said.

  “What do you mean by ‘issues’?” she asked.

  Liam frowned. “I didn’t mean bad issues,” he said. “It’s just a figure of speech.”

  “Okay. Where should we start?” She brought a ledger to the table and sat next to Liam. When she realized their shoulders nearly touched, she scooted her chair to provide extra room. Liam smiled at her, making her feel just a bit foolish. He couldn’t have thought she was flirting by sitting so close, and yet she’d behaved self-consciously. Well, why not? It had been a long time since she’d had any practice at male/female relationships.

  “Why don’t you show me a list of the charities you fund?” Liam said.

  That was easy. Jude was proud of the people she helped in the county. All of the charities that benefitted from the Paul O’Leary Foundation were in Geauga County. That was what Paul would have wanted. He’d been a proud country boy, and a well-liked Bees Creek Township native.

  Jude showed Liam the names of veterans’ kids who’d received scholarships to the junior college. She also explained how monetary gifts were awarded to wounded warriors. “It’s not much, but the families need a lot of help, so we do what we can,” she said. “Families of soldiers who don’t make it home get a onetime death benefit check from the government, but very little is done for wounded vets.”

  “So you received a death benefit when Paul died?”

  “Of course, but I didn’t want it for myself. Besides, I’m very lucky. I’ve lived here on my father’s property since I was born, and I had no plans to move away.”

  “So you’re saying you didn’t keep the money?”

  “I’m saying it was a moral issue for me. Morally I didn’t think I should accept that money because I have other means. I know many survivors need it, but I didn’t.”

  Liam’s eyes widened. “So, what did you do with the money? You didn’t turn it down, did you?”

  “No, of course not, but I wanted to use it as a tribute to my husband. I used my hundred thousand to start the foundation.”

  “The whole thing?” Liam seemed surprised.

  “Most of it. I kept some out for the expenses of Paul’s memorial service.” She cleared her throat as an image of that bleak, rainy day invaded her consciousness. “I figured the bulk of the money would do more good as a legacy to Paul than just sitting in my checking account.”

  “What about Wesley’s education? Did you start a savings account for him?” Liam asked. “I’m sure that’s the kind of usage the Veterans Administration has in mind when they issue checks to widows.”

  Jude wasn’t sure she appreciated the inference in Liam’s question, as if she were a negligent mother. “Wesley will be just fine,” she said. “Who knows if he’ll even want to go to college. Not everyone is born to achieve higher education. I was forced to go and stuck it out for three semesters until I quit.” She gave Liam a lingering stare. “Are you questioning my decision about the money, Liam?”

  * * *

  A SLOW BURN crept into Liam’s face. He was not off to a good start here, but it was part of his job to ask people about how they spent their money, to get them to reexamine their priorities. Jude didn’t know that, though, nor would she care. She didn’t seem to care about money, other than for what it could do to help others. She was absolutely confident that her decision to fund the foundation was the correct one.

  Still, Jude’s attitude about Wesley’s future seemed at odds with her obvious mothering nature. Liam barely knew her kid,
but even he sensed a strong mind and eagerness to learn. If ever there was a six-year-old on a premature road to higher education, it was Wesley O’Leary. Couldn’t the boy’s own mother see that?

  He wisely remained silent, tapping a pencil eraser against Jude’s ledger.

  “I have the feeling there is something you want to say to me,” she said.

  “No, not really. I’m just surprised that you would use your benefit this way. The VA gives the money so families will have a head start on making their way without the breadwinner.”

  “I told you. I’m sure most veterans’ families need the funds, but I didn’t.” She glanced around her apartment as if taking stock of her material possessions, which were modest in Liam’s opinion. Liam’s gaze locked on the photo of a man in uniform and Jude in her wedding dress. A modest shrine to the dead soldier, he decided.

  “What do you think when you see the way I live?” she said.

  “It’s fine. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I know it’s not fancy. But Wesley and I have everything we need or want. We have plenty to eat, decent clothes, Wes has friends and playdates, toys like other kids. We have a dynamite dog and a purpose for getting up every morning. Why should I use government money to amass more stuff?”

  “I wasn’t suggesting you do that. But opening a savings account is another way of using the money to ensure your family’s well-being.”

  “Like opening an account for my son, you mean?”

  There was no denying Liam had made a mistake the moment he implied that Jude wasn’t preparing for her son’s future, just like he almost had when suggesting that the foundation had “issues.” These blunders might cost him her trust. What right did he have to question Jude’s plans for her son? No right, but definitely an obligation—to Dr. Foster.

  She leaned back and practically glared at him. “Does Wesley look like he’s suffering to you? He’s six years old, Liam. He wouldn’t know if he had a savings account or not. I’m sure my father opened one for him. He did for my sister’s daughter, so he was probably as generous with Wes. Right now, if Wesley knew he had money, he’d be just like every other kid and want to buy a new video game.”

  Liam was definitely crossing a line. He hadn’t come here to interfere in family dynamics, and that was just what he was doing by intimating that Jude had misused her widow’s fund. He would do well to remember he needed to make an ally of Jude.

  He placed his hands flat on the table. “I’m sorry, Jude. I misspoke. Wesley is obviously a happy, well-adjusted kid, along with a bright one. It says a lot about your skills as a single parent.”

  She relaxed in her chair, but the resolute look on her face told him he’d better be careful. He flipped a few pages of ledger paper and changed the topic. “I haven’t seen this two-column bookkeeping system in quite a while,” he said. “Don’t you have a computer?”

  “Sure I do.” She nodded toward a desk under her living room window, where he saw a laptop model. “I use it every day to send and receive messages about the foundation, to do research. I just don’t use the computer to keep track of the money. I’m still a simple calculator girl when it comes to adding and subtracting.”

  “Well, that’s okay. Why don’t you show me the foundation’s assets?”

  “Prepare to not be impressed.” She leaned forward and thumbed through some entries. Locating the page in question, she ran her index finger down the list of contributors and investments. “This is the initial investment from the VA. My father donated fifty thousand. A few people in the community, friends of my dad’s, gave a total of about twenty-five thousand.”

  “What about Paul’s friends and family?” Liam asked.

  “He wasn’t well off,” Jude said. “He was raised on a farm. His parents barely made ends meet. But Paul served his country proudly, and I always envisioned the foundation as a legacy to him without expecting money from his family.” She gave him an earnest stare. “I’m sure you’ll agree that his family gave enough.”

  “Of course.” Liam returned his attention to the books. “And what about these treasury bonds?”

  “My father’s accountant said I should have solid investments, so I bought a few bonds. I don’t touch the principle, just the little interest I get. I probably should check how they’re performing.”

  Liam scratched the back of his neck. A lot of money had come in to start the foundation and this simple bookkeeping system, with its erasures and write-overs would be difficult to follow even for him. He turned the pages to find the expenses section and noticed one item missing right away.

  “Jude, where is your salary? Even a nonprofit organization has to pay the employees. I don’t see any record of you getting a regular paycheck.”

  “I take money when I need it, when it’s available. Usually about a thousand a month. But I don’t have many personal expenses.”

  Liam released a deep sigh. She took money when she needed it? How did she budget, plan? “I’ve only just scratched the surface here, Jude, but I’ve come to a conclusion already.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re not protecting yourself financially, which could lead to big problems down the road. And, maybe more importantly, this foundation is losing money. You’re spending more than you’re bringing in. At this rate, the foundation will be broke before the new year!”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she said. “I realize I’m not the best bookkeeper, but we can’t be broke. Too many people depend on us.”

  He held back a cynical chuckle. “Jude, come on. That’s like saying you can’t be out of money because you still have credit cards.”

  “Okay, maybe I’m naive. But by the first of the year? I don’t believe that.”

  “I may have exaggerated, but you should trust me when I tell you you’re heading for bankruptcy. You need to make some changes, and you need to make them now.”

  Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Trust you? You’re practically a stranger.” She obviously intended to say more, but the door whooshed open and Wesley came barreling inside. “We’re done, Mom. Can I show Liam more of my constellations?”

  The look on Jude’s face made him wonder if he was violating Dr. Foster’s primary warning. Don’t bully her, Liam.

  “No, Wes,” Jude said. “It’s nearly supper time, and I believe Liam was just leaving.”

  * * *

  AS HE WAS driving home, Liam kept thinking about what he could have done differently. His conclusion was, almost everything. He’d been a hit with the kid, but that was all. With Jude, he’d been too blunt, too matter-of-fact, too much the cocky expert. He made the mistake of trying to reason with Jude the same way he approached wealthy clients who came to his office for advice. Over the years, he’d learned that money was personal to everyone, but maybe more so to Jude. Every dollar she worked with was intimately connected to her dead husband, and he should have been more in tune to her personal feelings. But Liam wasn’t a personal feelings kind of guy. Money brought problems into peoples’ lives, and problems had solutions.

  He’d never forget the look on her face when he walked out the door, and that was a shame, because earlier he’d decided that Jude O’Leary had a beautiful face. Not perfect, too suntanned, marked with a few worry lines, but it was a good, strong, naturally glowing face that appealed to Liam.

  But now that he’d told her the foundation was nearing ruin, he would probably never again see the face he was imagining now. If she let him in her house one more time, he figured he would instead see the firm set of her lips, the furrowed brow, the crinkles around her memorable blue eyes. That was the face that had watched him slink toward the door, say a quick goodbye to Wesley and quietly escape.

  “Now you’ve done it, Manning,” Liam said aloud. He felt a bit like he’d made a deal with the devil the day of the weddin
g, though no one who knew Dr. Foster would make the comparison. Naturally Martin wanted to know why foundation bills kept coming to his mailbox. Of course he wanted to stop the flow of good money after bad. Of course it was worth two hundred bucks an hour for him to pay a financial whiz like Liam to evaluate the foundation’s leaky books.

  Some whiz. Liam had earned six hundred dollars this afternoon. He’d discovered major flaws in Jude’s bookkeeping system, weaknesses in her ability to make sound decisions. But he’d also succeeded in making the hardworking CEO so angry at him, she didn’t even say goodbye. No, Martin Foster wasn’t the devil. No one was. This was a situation where everyone was doing good things—maybe in a sloppy manner—but still good. The doctor was helping his daughter. Liam was helping the doctor. And Jude was determined to help everyone.

  He couldn’t leave his relationship with Jude in shambles. He’d told Martin he’d make repeat visits to Dancing Falls before he summarized his conclusions and presented the beleaguered doctor with his bill. And Liam Manning was a man of his word—a blunt, unfeeling, interfering man of his word apparently—but nevertheless, more visits were in order.

  The problem was, he liked Jude. She was no nonsense, practical and determined. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. In fact, compared to his own hands, Jude’s were practically a germ minefield. He liked the way the wind tended to wreak havoc with her hair. And he liked the way she smelled. A mix of flowers and leather, as calming as it was rich. He was steel and concrete of downtown Cleveland, and Jude was Mother Earth of Dancing Falls.

  And now she hated him.

  Well, he just couldn’t have her hating him. That emotion benefitted no one. Today was Monday. He’d give her a day to cool off and then he’d reappear on Wednesday, apologize, offer helpful sound advice and use his skill to set the Paul O’Leary Foundation on its feet again.

  Paul O’Leary, the husband, the obvious legend about whom no smudge must be allowed to tarnish his image. Liam recalled his father telling him not to get romantically involved with Jude. Ha. Nothing to worry about, Dad. How could any man compete with a dead hero? Liam’s background was silver spoon all the way, so how could he square off against a guy who’d grown up poor and proud in Bees Creek Township and gone off to serve his country? Jude was in love with a saint, and even though the guy didn’t warm her bed at night and never would again, competition didn’t get any more unfair than that.