Taming of the Shoe

by Rebekah Dodson

  “Editing today?” I asked my mother as I snatched a piece of bacon from the plate she sat in front of my sister.

  My mother looked a lot less tired this morning than she had all week, but if I looked close enough, I bet I could still see the lines under her light makeup.

  “Yeah, and I thought I’d take Amy to the park a bit today to play.” I heard the pan sizzle as she poured in eggs and began to scramble them. “What are your plans today, Ethan?”

  “I’m hanging out with friends.” I shrugged. She didn’t need to know it was with one friend, and a girl. I’d never hear the end of it. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He went into the office early.”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  My mother threw me that look that told me not to ask questions, so I clammed up. I snatched another piece of bacon and chewed thoughtfully as I went to the coffee maker and popped in a pod. My sister colored and my mother cooked in silence as I watched my black coffee brew into my red mug with the Warner High School logo on it. It was something my mother never understood about my father and I; why we liked our coffee black. I just didn’t like all the sugars they put in them, and it was just a simple shot of caffeine without the crash if I drank it black.

  I downed the hot coffee in two sips and rinsed my mug out in the sink. “Hey, Mom, do you have any money?”

  “Sure, honey. In my purse on the garage door. Just grab a twenty.”

  I smiled and sideways hugged her as she was plating eggs. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t you want breakfast?” she protested as I reached for her purse.

  “Naw, I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

  I turned to open the garage door to go out to my car, but she stopped me. “You took your pills, right?”

  “Yes, Mom. Every day.”

  “As prescribed?”

  I nodded, motioning to Amy, who was lost in her coloring world, thankfully.

  “Okay, be back for dinner. We’re having eggplant parmesan.”

  I smiled at her. “Yum. I’ll see you then.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up down the street and around the corner from Taylor’s house. We’d been back and forth last night with why I couldn’t pick her up in front of her house – after her papa’s reaction at the performance, we finally both agreed that it would make things less complicated if she went for a walk and met me.

  I hated that she had to lie – and I think she hated it, too. It felt weird to me that we had to sneak around like this, but that little devil on my shoulder told me it was fine because we were just friends after all. It’s not like I was going to bang her in the back of my car in an empty parking lot.

  No, of course not. You didn’t ‘bang’ a girl like Taylor, anyway. She was too good for that.

  She was, in fact, too good for me.

  I sighed as I turned down the Sinatra music I had played as she approached the car and got in. With a flick, she had her seat belt on and turned to me. She was wearing short shorts with a skirt that wrapped over them, kind of like a half-shorts half-skirt thing, and a loose, white tank top complete with a lacy, cream-colored cardigan and bright orange Keds on her feet.

  “So ... where to first?”

  “You’ll see.” I smiled as I pulled away from the curb. We’d have to drive a little farther than I had planned, but that was fine.

  She reached over and turned up the radio. “I’ve got the world on a string” filled my tiny car. “I didn’t know you liked this type of music,” she muttered.

  “Oh yeah, it’s great! Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Dean Martin – all legends. I know it’s old-fashioned, but it’s just some great jazz arrangements, you know?”

  She nodded. “In our house we’re only allowed to listen to Christian music or stuff from the fifties and sixties. It’s ‘safer,’ as my mother used to say.”

  “Safer?”

  “It means there’s no talk about sex and boys.”

  I laughed unexpectedly. It wasn’t something I’d expected her to say. “Well, there is that song ‘Making Whoopie’ which is exactly the same thing, you know...”

  “Well, I guess my parents never heard that one, then.”

  We paused in awkward silence as the exact same song came on. I hit the button to go to the classical station, which was playing some mellow Beethoven. Taylor visibly relaxed.

  “So you never told me where we’re going,” she mentioned softly.

  I pulled into a parking lot and spun the car around to hit the drive through of a local coffee shop. “It’s going to be a scorcher today. I thought smoothies would be a good start.”

  “What’s a smoothie?”

  I almost hit the car in front of me as I snuck a shocked look at her. “You serious?”

  “I’ve heard of them, and I see the girls at school with the coffee ones I guess, but I don’t exactly know what they are, and I’ve never had one.”

  It tumbled out of her all at once, and it was cute. I smiled as she rolled to the window. “Well, I take it you’re going to make me order then. Are you a blueberry girl?”

  “I love blueberries,” she nearly whispered.

  Her cheeks were rosier than normal. Was I embarrassing her? God, I hoped not. I ordered two large blueberry pomegranate smoothies with whipped cream. I didn’t want to think about the amount of sugar or calories these things had, because my mother liked to remind me that chubby boys like me should count their calories, but whatever. This was Taylor and I was determined to show her a good time.

  As we pulled away from the coffee shop, I watched her with a sideway glance as she took a sip of her smoothie. She closed her eyes and I almost laughed at the blissful look on her face.

  “Goodness, this is so good. Like, really good,” she muttered.

  “Right?” I turned at the light and merged onto the small highway that led around the town.

  “Where are we going?” she asked again, crossing her legs as her skirt fell away a little revealing her smooth, white legs.

  I focused on the road as much as I could, but it was hard. How do guys drive with a pretty girl in the front seat?

  How had I drove with Maeve in the front seat?

  The thought hit me like a gut-punch, and I tried to push it away. Today was about Taylor – not about Maeve. But how does one let someone go?

  I hopped off the highway and followed the weaving lane into downtown just near the small lake at the center of our small town. There was a little park down under the highway bridge, usually overrun with seagulls most of the time, but it was the best place in town to visit the lake.

  “I thought we’d skip rocks.”

  She stifled a giggle. “You can’t be serious. I don’t know how.”

  “I’ll teach you.” I pulled into a parking spot a little way away from the landings that jutted out to the lake. We weren’t going to the ancient, rickety landings, anyway.

  As if she read my mind, she said, “Those landings don’t look safe.”

  “There’s a little trail that goes down to the water,” I told her.

  We got out and strolled down the concrete until we got to the park area. A few kids, probably siblings, rushed around the swings and climbed up the slide. Two bored parents sat on a bench nearby, buried in their phones.

  “Isn’t it sad how everyone’s on their phone nowadays?”

  I shook my head. “We’re the teenagers here; aren’t we supposed to be on our phones?”

  “I only used mine to text you and Facetime my mom. Sometimes I play a little solitaire game on it.”

  I thought about the endless apps I had on my phone that I never played, and the half dozen social media accounts that I always forgot to check. Before Maeve died, I’d been so active on them, flipping between five or six a day. Maeve had loved Picstagram for her art, and I made it a point to like all her photos as soon as she posted them. I don’t think she ever got the hint why I did that, though – at least, she never said anything about it.

  There I went again,
thinking about Maeve when there was a perfectly good girl on my arm.

  On my arm?

  At some point when I’d been lost in my head, Taylor wrapped her arm around mine. It was a light grip, she wasn’t clinging on me, but it was ... sweet. It was hard not to freeze – I couldn’t remember the last time a girl wanted to hold on without trying to suck face with me – but instead I let my arm hang limp beside me.

  “I have a million apps I never use anymore,” I blurted just as she reached the water’s edge. We were completely alone out here, surrounded by a few birds circling in the air and the quiet sound of the water lapping against the rocky, muddy shore. I preoccupied myself by looking for rocks along the bank.

  Taylor frowned at me and I realized my response was a little delayed. I found an almost perfectly smoothed stone and tossed it sideways, watching absently as it skipped twice before plunking into the grayish-green lake water. She picked up a random rock and threw it, where it skipped perfectly six times, and went twice and far as mine.

  “Damn,” I whispered.

  She glared at me; her arms crossed. In the breeze from the lake, her cardigan whipped around her legs. “Do you have to swear?”

  I grinned like crazy. “Well, fuck no I don’t, but it’s fun. You should try it.”

  “No, thanks.” Even though she was still giving me a look, I could see the twinkle in her eye. She picked up another rock instead of arguing and skipped it just as far. I tried the same with one skip.

  “So I guess I don’t have to show you how to do then, huh?” I chuckled.

  “Nope.” She bounced rock three perfectly. She eyed me. “Why? Did you have some dream you’d be able to show me how to do something as easily as skip a rock just so you can hold my hand?”

  “I, uh.” I gaped at her. How did this girl know that? Time to recover, Hersbill. “That hadn’t occurred...”

  “Relax, Ethan.” She held out her hand. “You just have to ask.”

  I took her hand and curled my fingers around hers. Her hand was so soft and small in mine, and she was a little cold. From the breeze, I supposed. I squeezed her hand gently. “Wanna take a walk?”

  She swung my hand back and forth. “Sure.”

  We strolled for a few minutes up around the edge of a couple of the landings and then up away from the banks toward the playground.

  “So where did you learn to skip like that?” I asked.

  “Grew up next to a lake in Germany, though it was much bluer than this one.” She kicked a little dirt in front of her. Her orange shoes were such a contrast to her black skirt and white top and cream overthrow. I wondered if that was the briefest way of her expressing herself when she had to dress so...what was the word for it? Dowdy?

  “This one is man-made, so it’s a little gross.” We were back by the bank now, down from where we had been originally. I let go of her hand and hefted a large rock and threw it. It made a satisfying plunk as it splashed in the water and sunk immediately.

  “Nice one.” She picked up a bigger on as well, stumbled a little, and then chucked it. It bounced off something then sunk. She dusted off her hands. “Hey, that’s pretty fun. You know this can be relaxing in a way.”

  “Oh, yeah. Especially if you think about what’s really bothering you and imagine it going into the rock, and then just throw it as hard as you can.”

  “Really?” She snatched up an even bigger, smoothed rock. As she held it she closed her eyes and then threw it even farther than mine.

  “You know, you’ve got this whole weak girl thing going on, but I feel like you could kick someone’s ass if you wanted to.” I crossed my arms and smirked at her.

  She laughed. “Probably.”

  “So, what’s bothering you that you chucked in the lake just now?” I asked hesitantly. I wasn’t sure if it was too much.

  “How much I miss my parents.”

  “Oh.”

  “You?”

  “It was ... for a friend of mine.” I looked away, out at the lake.

  “Maeve?”

  Hearing her say Maeve’s name rubbed me the wrong way. I wasn’t sure why – maybe because my parents referred to her as “that girl” and we hadn’t really talked about it outside therapy. I was pretty sure, as far as they were concerned, they wanted me to forget Maeve had ever existed, despite the fact she was such a big part of my life until ... yeah.

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  She reached out and rubbed my upper arm. “Hey. If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. I understand.”

  I half smiled. In the last four months, no one had ever said that to me – most of my friends tip-toed around the whole thing, almost like it never happened. I guess they were just as scared to ask as I was to give them a half-assed answer.

  Taylor waited – all blue eyes and blowing blonde hair and looking as adorable as ever. Her eyes were large and innocent, but kind. If I could tell anyone, it might be her. I had a feeling she wouldn’t be disappointed or judge me but maybe just listen. Nevertheless, I still swore under my breath, but it was loud enough for her to hear. She stared at me, her eyes soft and beckoning me to continue.

  I never talked about it with my own parents, and I’d be damned if that shitty therapist got the whole story out of me. But there was something about Taylor that wanted me to tell her about all my deepest, darkest secrets, and I realized I’d been hiding one about Maeve for too long.

  “Maeve was my best friend since I moved here freshman year,” I started slowly. “We were pretty tight.”

  Taylor found a large rock jutting from the bank and sat on it, patting the worn part next to her. I sat next to her as she pulled her legs to her chest and waited.

  “What happened?” Taylor nearly whispered. She gazed out at the lake without looking at me.

  “She died.”

  “I’m sorry.” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, then opened them. “Really. That’s terrible. No one should ever have to watch their best friend die.”

  I gulped. You have no idea how right you are. I was mostly relieved she hadn’t asked how she died. Was I ready to tell her that, though?

  Didn’t someone need to know?

  Against my better judgement, I opened my mouth. “Well, there’s more. You see...”

  “You should kiss me now.”

  Her interruption made my head spin. I wasn’t sure how to feel about confessing something like this and her invitation. “What did you say?” I mumbled, wondering if my head was on straight.

  She turned and looked at me. “I just feel like you need one right now.”

  “But your Papa...”

  She swung her legs down and shifted to face me. Our lips collided before I knew what was happening, and it was a mesh of teeth and lips and saliva.

  “Whoa,” I pulled away. “Taylor, are you sure...?”

  Her hands dangled around my neck. “Hell yes, I’m sure.”

  “You swore.”

  “Kiss me, Ethan.”

  I grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap and captured her mouth with mine. It wasn’t the same chaste kiss she’d given me in the choir room. It was the fumbling passion of two kids who didn’t know what they were doing, but it wasn’t bad, either. In the back of my mind, I wondered if anyone had kissed her before; given her religious upbringing and the way her mouth slipped away from mine for a moment, my bet was probably not.

  But damn, I showed her what kissing me was really like, and about the time she moaned against me, I realized we had to stop this before it went further than either of us wanted to. I had a good reputation at school with the ladies. Sure, I was the ‘nice guy,’ but I was also respectful and polite. Not to mention, Taylor’s grandpa scared the ever-loving shit out of me. A veteran and religious man? That was some terrifying power I never wanted to piss off right there.

  So, yeah. Stop kissing her? That wasn’t going to happen. She tasted like mints and bubblegum, like a summer day and some other mushy shit that evaporated the minute our li
ps touched.

  Damn, I might be falling for this girl.

  “Hey, what are you kids doing down there?”

  My head shot up and I almost dropped Taylor off my lap. She stood hurriedly and brushed off her legs, as we both looked in the direction of the voice that had shouted at us. A guy in a security guard outfit – sometimes they patrolled through here to scare off homeless guys – picked his way over the rocks toward us. Taylor stared at me; her wide eyes full of terror now. She mouthed, What do we do?

  I jumped up and grabbed her hand. “Run,” I whispered, and I yanked her through the trees and out into the main park area.

  We fled back to my car and without waiting for her to buckle up, I yanked it into reverse, and we got the hell out of there.

  Not a minute passed before we were both laughing at the whole experience. Taylor wiped tears from her eyes as we both laughed about getting caught.

  “What was he thinking we were doing, anyway?”

  I snorted but swallowed it. She was so cute, but so naïve sometimes. I felt a little bad for corrupting her as much as I was. “I imagine lots of teens go down there to have sex.”

  “Gross,” she expelled.

  My heart sank a little. Not that I entertained the idea ... that much ... but ... I swallowed hard. Taylor surprised me all the time, what was one more thing?

  I clear my throat. “So, where to now?”

  She was scrolling through her phone and groaned. “Oh no. I have to get home. I forgot about a church thing I have tonight.”

  I resisted rolling my eyes, but I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but we can hang out after church tomorrow. Pick me up at 2?”

  “Sounds good.” I spun the wheel to get back to the highway towards her house. We popped to some Dean Martin songs on the way without talking much. I thrummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I wanted to tell her more about Maeve, but what if Taylor didn’t understand?