The Bridesmaid Wore Sneakers

by Cynthia Thomason

  He rolled down his window an inch to let in a cool blast of air, turned up his radio and hoped his mind would wander to more logical arenas. But the funny thing was, all he could think about was Wednesday morning.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ON TUESDAY EVENING, Jude and Wesley came to the big house for Rosie’s enchiladas. The housekeeper always served the Mexican dish on Tuesdays, and her talent at putting it together was legendary.

  Martin wanted to know how Jude’s meeting with Liam had gone, but since he wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, he couldn’t figure out a way to question his daughter. Between bites, he said, “So, Jude, anything new with the foundation?” That question was harmless enough.

  “Not really. I got a few miniscule donations in the mail in response to sending out preprinted address labels to neighbors, but ironically, not enough to cover the cost of mailing the labels.”

  That figures, Martin thought.

  “And I got an interesting proposal in my email today from a fifteen-year-old Bees Creek Township girl. She asked the foundation to fund her trip to Columbus for the statewide 4-H convention. Her father’s a veteran, and the girl wants to study horticulture. I’d like to help her.”

  “How much does she need?” Martin asked.

  “Five hundred should do it. I might be able to scrape that much together.”

  Martin disagreed with this use of fund money. He figured many of the parents of these so-called hard-luck kids could afford to finance their children’s trips, but instead of arguing with Jude, he switched his attention to Wesley. “And what about you, kiddo? Anything interesting in your life the last couple of days?”

  “Yeah,” Wesley said with more than his usual enthusiasm. “Mom and I had a visitor yesterday, this really neat guy who was at Aunt Alex’s wedding.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. “Oh? What was his name?”

  “Liam, and he looked at my science project and told me some stuff about constellations.”

  Martin nodded enthusiastically and waited for Jude to say something. When she didn’t, he prompted, “Who is this guy, Jude? Is Wes talking about Liam Manning, Lawrence Manning’s son?”

  “That’s him,” she said with a coy smile. “The same Liam Manning you coerced into dancing with me at the wedding.”

  Martin felt his face flush with heat. “He told you that?”

  “He did, but don’t worry, Daddy, I’ve already forgiven you for pawning me off on Liam.”

  Martin made a disgruntled sound in his throat. “You’re a beautiful girl, Jude. I don’t have to pawn you off on anyone. And anyway, I saw you talking to him before dinner. He seems like a nice fellow. So he dropped by to see you, did he? Looks like my little plan to have him dance with you at the wedding worked.” Martin winked at Wesley, who giggled.

  She fixed such a hard stare on her father that Martin actually thought she could see the lies inside his head. “When we talked at the wedding, he asked what I did,” she said. “Then he said he would come to the barn on Monday and see about making a donation. Only he got sidetracked and started giving me advice.”

  “Oh, he did?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t pay much attention. He doesn’t understand how the foundation works and what we’re trying to do.”

  Martin put his elbows on the table and gave Jude an intense stare. “You know, Jude, I understand that Liam is pretty good with numbers. Maybe you should let him take a look at the books...”

  “Everybody is good at something, Daddy. It doesn’t mean they have a heart.” She pushed an enchilada around on her plate. “For your information, though, I did let him have a look, and that quickly reinforced my previous opinion. The Paul O’Leary Foundation isn’t just about columns in a ledger. It’s about helping the community.”

  Feeling chastised, Martin remained silent.

  “And he played with Mutt,” Wesley said, as if the intervening conversation hadn’t happened. “I don’t think he liked the goats too much. He’s like me. He thinks they stink.”

  Martin chuckled. “I think they stink, too.”

  Deciding not to press the issue of Liam further, Martin folded his napkin and stood from the table. “Thanks for coming to dinner,” he said, bending to plant a kiss on Wesley’s head. “I’m going up to say good-night to Grandma. You stay as long as you like.”

  “We’ll leave soon. I’m going to drive Wesley by Aurora’s house. Have you seen it? She already has Christmas lights up, and it’s only the first of December.”

  “I saw her struggling with the lights when I went by yesterday. I stopped and helped her for a few minutes. Aurora definitely has the Christmas spirit.”

  “Oh yeah,” Wesley said. “It’s almost Christmas. Mom, can we get a big tree this year? One with lots of ornaments and lights?”

  Jude smiled. “We’ll see, but we don’t have room for a big, tall tree. Maybe we can compromise with a slightly larger one than we had last year. Besides, Grandpa will have a big tree here, and Santa will easily see all the lights from the sky so he can leave your presents underneath.”

  “As I recall,” Martin said, “Santa found the tree last year with no trouble.”

  Wesley crossed his arms and fixed a disgruntled look on his face. “I want our own tree! A big, giant one like at the mall.”

  Jude shook her head. “No matter what we decide,” she said, “we’re not going to have that big a tree.”

  Martin chuckled and headed for the stairs. On the way up, he thought about the conversation he’d had with Aurora yesterday when he helped her with the lights. The woman had an amazing way of clarifying issues that Martin appreciated.

  She knew a bit about his plan to get Jude on the right track financially, and he’d told her that Liam Manning was going to help him.

  Martin had said, “I may have misjudged the situation, I hope this young man understands Jude’s purpose behind the foundation.”

  Aurora’s attention had remained fixed on her task, but strangely she said, “Does anyone? I wonder.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Martin asked her. “Jude is trying to do good things for the community, specifically Bees Creek Township, where her husband grew up.”

  “Nothing wrong with doing good things,” Aurora said. “But if you think that’s all she’s attempting to do, you haven’t been paying much attention to that girl’s grieving the past years.”

  Martin had managed to tamp his irritation. How could Aurora, or anyone, suggest he wasn’t in tune with Jude’s grief? Aurora had only known Jude a few months. Martin saw Jude’s sadness in her eyes, heard it in her voice and personally agonized over it. “I know she’s been lonely,” he’d said. “She won’t date, doesn’t socialize much. She’s not over Paul, and I know the foundation is a way to fill her time while honoring her husband’s memory.”

  “Yes, she’s filling her time,” Aurora agreed. “But even more significantly, the foundation is filling a void.”

  Martin had stared at Aurora for a few moments, letting her words sink in. “You’re saying Jude is compensating for the loss of her husband with the foundation?”

  Aurora met his gaze. “I might even go so far as to say the foundation has become her husband. She nurtures it, spends valuable hours growing it. She’s closer to that foundation than she is to any friend.”

  “Jude could have friends,” Martin argued.

  “Of course she could, Marty, but she doesn’t want any. She has the foundation. Paul O’Leary still lives today because his name is on every document that crosses Jude’s desk.”

  Martin had wanted to disagree with Aurora, but his common sense told him that her psychoanalysis was probably on the mark. It was time for Jude to let go. “If you’re right,” he said, “that’s just not healthy.”

  “You should be talking to her, Marty
, not some stranger. Maybe this young man can help plug some holes. And maybe he can help Jude in ways you never thought of. But a discussion of the money problem should come from you.”

  Martin knew he was a good doctor, and in many ways a good father, but he had one major fault in the parenting arena. “I’m not good at criticizing my girls, Aurora,” he told her. “They’ve all been through so much. And now their mother... It was always Maggie who counseled our daughters when they needed it. She dealt the disciplinary blows. I just loved them, maybe too much.”

  Aurora had put her hand on Martin’s shoulder, a gesture of the solid friendship that had grown between the two in the months since she had moved in next door. “I wouldn’t worry about having too much love in that house,” she said. “But I might add a pinch of practicality. I just don’t see how you can justify letting Jude continue down this path by claiming that you’re not up to the task of criticizing her. It’s not good for her mental well-being in the long run and it’s causing you unneeded stress.” She smiled. “Talk to her, Marty. She’s a clever girl. I think she’ll understand your concerns, financial and otherwise.”

  Martin had been forced to agree. “You’re right, Aurora, I know that,” he said. “I just don’t want Jude to feel like I’m pulling a rug out from under her by withdrawing my support.”

  “There are lots of ways to show support, Marty.”

  He nodded. “I’ll talk to her before the end of the week.”

  * * *

  LIAM CALLED HIS office on Wednesday morning and told his assistant, Connie, he wouldn’t be in until after lunch.

  “You only have two appointments,” she’d told him. “I can easily rearrange those for this afternoon.

  “Thanks, Connie.” Then he chose sensible, casual clothes—a pair of Dockers, a button-down shirt and a suede sports coat to ward off the morning chill. He thought about dressing again in the attire Jude suggested, but abandoned the idea. Most of the jeans Liam owned were made for going out, not tending animals, and wearing them to Jude’s the other day had only made him feel more like a city boy than ever.

  He drove from his condo in Cleveland to Fox Creek, rehearsing his apology on the way. He wanted Jude to know he was sorry if he had minimized the importance of the foundation, but he wasn’t about to apologize for trying to help her, and her father, save money. It was what he did, why he was Wharton trained. He saved people money and he made people money. There was no shame in that.

  He arrived at the barn around eight thirty. The goats were in their pen next to the barn. A few chickens wandered about, free-range-style, nibbling at whatever Jude had left on the ground for them. One horse was in the paddock, the giant bay named Titan. Liam walked close to the fence but maintained a safe distance. He remembered Jude’s warning about not getting too close to the grumpy animal. Even so, Titan eyed him sharply, seeming to take in every move Liam made. The animal snorted loudly, a reaction Liam attributed to displeasure. Or maybe he was issuing a strong warning of his own.

  “It’s okay, big guy,” Liam said. “I’m just here to see the lady of the house.”

  He went up the stairs and knocked on the door. No answer. Wesley would be at school, and a quick perusal of the empty barnyard convinced Liam that Jude had gone somewhere in her old pickup truck.

  “Great, just great,” he muttered to himself. Why hadn’t he considered that Jude might be away from the farm? He’d hoped to catch her when she wasn’t expecting him, thinking his apology would be more readily accepted if she didn’t have a chance to come up with a way to refute him.

  Deciding not to give up, especially since he’d stolen a few prime hours from his firm, he got back in his car and headed to the main house he could see from the barn. All was quiet at Dancing Falls, as well, but Liam decided to try the front door.

  Tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear, the woman who’d driven the Toyota the other day answered. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m looking for Mrs. O’Leary,” Liam said. “Jude.”

  “She lives a quarter mile away, above the barn,” the woman said, her clear eyes seeming to take in his pressed trousers and tailored coat.

  “I know that,” Liam said. “I’m a friend of hers, and I’ve already checked there. I thought she might be here, since her truck isn’t at her living quarters.”

  “It wouldn’t be, would it?” the woman said. “It’s Wednesday.”

  Obviously that explanation was logical to anyone who kept tabs on the Foster family, but it meant nothing to Liam. He waited, hoping the housekeeper would give him more info. When she didn’t, he improvised. “Oh, I remember now. Wednesday, right? How long ago did she leave?

  “She’s supposed to be at the radio station by eight thirty. And since it’s all the way in Bees Creek Township, she probably left by eight.”

  Liam had all the information he needed. He remembered Martin telling him that the foundation supported a local radio station. How many could there be in Bees Creek Township? He thanked the housekeeper and returned to his car. Taking out his smartphone, he began researching. He found one small-band station, WOIH, located on a two-lane road in the mostly-farming community.

  Thank goodness for GPS. Twenty-five minutes later, Liam pulled into a gravel lot in front of a small, wood-sided cabin. A sign out front identified the structure as home to WOIH the Voice of Bees Creek Township. Liam parked next to Jude’s pickup truck and went inside.

  The cabin served two functions—personal and professional. The “lobby” or business reception room, had an overstuffed sofa, a couple of comfortable chairs, solid tables and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen area occupied the back of the room and was partially hidden by a wicker screen. From the aroma, Liam surmised that someone had recently cooked bacon behind that screen. This space was cozy and welcoming.

  What should have been the kitchen, a room to the right, had a large glass window separating it from the living room. All signs of cooking functionality were gone, having been replaced with a central U-shaped counter with rudimentary broadcasting equipment on its surface. A sign above the window indicated in glowing red letters that WOIH was on the air.

  In the center of the counter sat Jude, a set of headphones over her ears. She leaned into a microphone and spoke in a low, and disturbingly pleasant gritty kind of voice. Liam felt a quiver in the pit of his stomach.

  “We’ll get to the calendar in a few minutes, folks,” she said. “But next on the schedule is the Dog Gone Bulletin Board brought to you by locally produced Pooches Pleasure, high-quality dog food in both dry and canned varieties. Please listen carefully. One of these lost pooches could be your neighbor’s.”

  Jude began her public service announcement with a detailed description of a five-year-old beagle named Maisie who was last seen chasing a goose on Bees Creek. Maisie’s mother was frantic and was offering a twenty-dollar reward for the return of her beloved canine. Two more dogs were on the most-missing list, and Jude gave each of them equal airtime. She ended by saying that all of the doggies on last week’s list had been returned home. Canned applause accompanied the joyous announcement.

  Liam listened to the local-color broadcast with a mixture of amusement and admiration. He doubted that any news of the Middle East or Pacific Cyclone now ravaging the islands would be forthcoming. This radio station was strictly for the people of northeast Ohio, the ones who could pick up the limited signal that probably only reached fifty miles or so.

  Finished with the dogs, Jude went right into the calendar of coming events, which was relevant to the locals of Bees Creek Township. Stan’s Used Cars was having a sale this Saturday and Stan himself would be grilling hot dogs. The Red Barn Theater was showing Barefoot in the Park with two of the local favorites as the stars. The Methodist church was having a bazaar and food drive... And so it went until the week’s activities were concluded.

 
It was at that same time that Jude abandoned her script and glanced out the window to the living room. When she saw Liam, her brow immediately furrowed along with the tug of a serious frown on her lips. She turned the programming over to a white-haired man who spun a country favorite on the turntable. She rose and came to the door separating the two rooms.

  “What are you doing here?” she said as she came into the room where Liam waited.

  “I came to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t like the way we left things on Monday. I’m not really accustomed to being thrown out of places.”

  “Do you want me to apologize for hurting your feelings?”

  “No, I’m not that fragile, but I’d like a chance to start over with you.”

  The frown stayed in place. “Start over how? Are you going to continue sending me into a panic about my life’s mission?”

  “No. I’m sorry about that. I really did come to Dancing Falls to learn about your charities, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I could probably help you sort out some of the financial problems you’re having. And I was serious when I warned you about a shaky future. Where I overstepped was when I failed to fully appreciate your involvement in the foundation and your influence in the community. Obviously you are helping a lot of people.”

  Appeased, at least for now, she said, “Well, thanks for that.”

  Another elderly gentleman came from the back of the house and walked up to Liam and Jude. “Is everything okay, here, Judie?” he asked.