22
Shoe Goes on the Other Foot Tonight

Some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.

Garth Brooks

I gave Brady a warm smile as I punched Lori-Lou’s number into my cell phone.

“H-hello?” She sounded a little breathless. Odd.

“Am I interrupting something?” I asked.

“Um, no. Nope. No.” She giggled. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Stop that, Josh! Not now.”

Ew!

“I’ll make this fast. I’m calling to let you know that I’m staying overnight with Aunt Alva.”

“Okay. Weird, but okay.” She giggled again. “Josh, stop it.”

“Lori-Lou, I love you. You know that.”

“Of course I know that. But I have a feeling you’re about to challenge that notion in some way. What’s happening?”

“Your house. It’s so . . .”

“Chaotic?”

“Well, yes.”

“Loud?”

“That too.”

“Impossible to navigate because of the toys?”

“Boy, if that ain’t the truth.” Josh’s voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for the time I’ve spent with you,” I added. “But Alva has asked if I would stay with her. She’s got a great guest bedroom.”

“And a spare toothbrush,” Brady called out.

“Wait,” Lori-Lou said. “Was that Brady James I heard?”

“Yes.”

“He’s at Aunt Alva’s with you?”

“Yes. Long story.”

“Mm-hmm.” She chuckled. “Well, it’s a story you’re going to share when we do see each other again. You’ll have to come get your stuff, right?”

“Right. I’ll come by tomorrow morning after Brady fixes my car.”

“He’s fixing your car?” She laughed. “Katie, I turn my back on you for five minutes and you have a thousand adventures without me.”

“Not deliberately.”

“Right, right.” She dissolved into giggles again and then ended the call. Probably for the best.

I turned to Brady and smiled. “Well, that’s behind me. Looks like you’re free to go now. If you want, I mean.”

“Wish I could stay, but I’d better get back so I can figure out the car thing.” He stood and gave Alva another hug before turning to me. “Walk me out?”

“S-sure.” For whatever reason, my heart started that little pitter-pat thing again.

“I’ll be clearing the table,” Alva called out as she headed out of the living room. “Take your time, you two. Take your time.” A little wink followed. For pity’s sake. Did she think I needed to be spending time alone with Brady James?

Hmm. The idea wasn’t altogether unappealing.

I followed him outside to his truck. “Brady, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Happy to be of service.” His warm smile convinced me that his words were genuine.

“Your kindness to me has proven Mama wrong. She said that people in the big city are impersonal and rude. You’ve been anything but.”

“I can’t speak for all the people in Dallas.” He reached out and slipped his arm over my shoulders. “But spending time with someone like you makes it easy to be friendly. You bring out the best in people.” He gave me a hug and then stepped back. “Anyway, you and Alva have a great time at your slumber party. I’ll call you tomorrow morning when the car’s ready. Then I’ll come and fetch you.”

I nodded, realizing for the first time just how much I wanted to be “fetched” by this sweet guy.

“And while we’re talking about making calls, I think I’ll go ahead and call my mom in the morning before I come. I’ll fill her in.”

“Ugh. She’s going to hate me.”

“Pretty sure she could never hate you. I can’t imagine anyone feeling that way about you, Katie. Don’t worry, she’s pretty clever. She’ll come up with a new slant for the Texas Bride article, I’d be willing to bet. It’ll all work out.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

As he spoke those last words, I had no doubt whatsoever. If Brady knew so, I could know so too.

I watched as he got into the big, manly crew cab of his truck—the one with the extended bed and huge black tires—and drove away. My heart didn’t slow down until I was back inside Aunt Alva’s house again. I walked through the living room and dining room and into the kitchen, where I found her washing dishes by hand and singing a funny little song. She looked up as I entered and then tossed me a dishrag.

“Might as well join in, Katie Sue.”

I stepped into the spot beside her, feeling completely at home in this kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye I gave her a closer look. I saw soft, wrinkly folds of skin on her face, which was the same ivory color as Queenie’s but with the addition of some minuscule age spots. The wrinkles traveled like tiny ripples down to her throat, and when I let my gaze wander down her arms, I found them there too. Her soft hands played with the bubbles in the sink, in much the same way I’d seen Queenie do. The two ladies even shared the same style in clothes—floral tops and solid-colored slacks. Even Alva’s shoe style felt reminiscent of home.

So many things about this woman reminded me of Queenie. The flashing eyes that spoke of stubbornness and authority. The pursed lips. The strong, charismatic voice. The authority in her stance, despite the stooped shoulders. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that Alva and Queenie were twins. The similarities were mind-boggling, to say the least.

My aunt stopped and gave me a closer look. “Something’s happened to you, Katie Sue.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you look . . . different.” She waggled her brows.

“Do I?” I sighed and then dried a plate that she passed to me. “I have no idea what you mean by that.”

“Sure you don’t.” She laughed. “Girl, I wouldn’t blame you. No one would. There’s nothing like a handsome man to knock a girl off her feet.” For whatever reason, her smile faded in a hurry, and she got right back to the business of doing dishes.

“Aunt Alva . . .” I looked up. “Have you ever felt . . . confused?”

“Yep. During the playoffs last season. I was rooting for the Mavericks, but then midseason my loyalties shifted to the Spurs.” She glanced my way with an imploring look. “Please don’t tell Brady, okay?”

Maybe there was some comparison there. Not that I really knew or cared much about basketball. Still, with my heartstrings suddenly twisted up in a knot around Brady James, maybe I’d better start caring about basketball.

Aunt Alva started humming as she turned her attention back to the dishes. Eventually she looked at me again. “I like having you here, Katie, and not just because of your help with the dishes.”

“Aw, thank you. I like being with you too.”

“I know it’s not like Fairfield.”

“I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I’m glad it’s not. I came to Dallas to clear my head. You know?”

“I do. More than you know. That’s the same reason I came to Dallas—to clear my head. I’ve been here ever since.”

“I get that. I’m not saying I’m ready to move here, but it’s been nice to get away from things for a while. It’s a whole new world in the big city.”

“One with handsome basketball players.” She winked. “Hey, speaking of Brady James . . .”

“Were we talking about Brady James?” I felt my face heat up, and that weird heart-racing thing started again.

“Yes, speaking of Brady, I wanted to tell you my theory on why he’s scared to get back to the business of playing ball.”

“Oh, it’s because of his knee,” I said.

“It’s true, his knee needs more time. But there’s more going on than that. People think that guys don’t get scared, but they do.” Alva gave me a knowing look. “Brady’s scared.”

“Of?”

“Letting his team down, plain and simple. He’s scared to get back in the game because he’s afraid he won’t be able to play like he used to. So he’d rather risk not playing at all. When you don’t play, you don’t fail.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Remember that scene in Coal Miner’s Daughter where Loretta had to stand in front of a crowd and sing for the very first time? She was terrified. It takes courage to do the one thing you’re most terrified to do, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

“I understand being afraid,” I said. “I’ve been a little scared of letting my family down.”

“Letting your family down?” Alva pursed her lips. “Why let them control your destiny, kid?”

“Oh, I’m not saying it’s like that. Just saying that I hate to disappoint them. So I totally get what you’re saying about Brady being afraid of disappointing his fans.”

“Ah.” A cloud seemed to settle over her. “Well, maybe we all need to get over this feeling of being a disappointment to others and just get on with the business of living.”

I thought through her words. “You’re a smart cookie, Aunt Alva.”

“Ooh, cookies.” She nearly dropped the dish in her hands, but the most delightful look came into her eyes. “I was thinking of making some oatmeal raisin cookies in the morning. Do you like those?”

“They’re my favorite. Queenie’s too. She makes the best in town.” I bit my lip, knowing there would be a reaction from my aunt. Why had I mentioned Queenie again? Somehow I just couldn’t help myself when I was around Alva.

An awkward silence grew up between us. She wiped her hands on her apron and leaned against the counter. Her thoughtful expression caught me off guard. “Katie Sue, let’s get one thing out in the open, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, Aunt Alva.”

“Despite what you might be thinking, I really don’t hate my little sister,” my aunt said. “You need to know that.”

Relief flooded over me as I realized she wasn’t upset with me. “You don’t seem the sort to hate anyone, Aunt Alva. I just don’t know what to think about the situation between you and Queenie. It’s so . . . odd. I’m looking at it from the outside in, and you know the story from the inside out, so our perspectives are different.”

“It’s kind of a long story, too long for your first night here. But it all goes back many, many years, long before you were even born.”

“I see.”

“I wonder, Katie . . . do you happen to know a man named Paul Bradford?” My aunt’s eyes misted over as she mentioned his name.

Reverend Bradford? At the Presbyterian church?”

Her gaze narrowed as she shifted her attention to the dishes once more. “Yes, do you know him?”

“Of course. I’ve grown up knowing him. In fact, I saw him recently at my parents’ anniversary party. Great guy.” But what did he have to do with Aunt Alva and Queenie?

I gasped as the realization hit me.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Queenie’s heart had been broken when Reverend Bradford showed an interest in another woman. Now I knew who that other woman was. She was standing next to me, washing dishes.

“Do you want to tell me the story?” I asked.

She sighed and passed me another plate. “Not yet. Maybe one day I’ll explain it all. Or write it all down in a letter. You can read it after I’m dead. It’ll be less painful that way.”

“I have to wait until you’re dead to know the details of what happened between the two of you? Er, the three of you?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll think on it. Perhaps there’s a way to get things out in the open without hurting folks all over again. I’ll have to pray about that. In the meantime, let’s just have a good time, you and me. It’s wonderful to have someone from the family spend time with me. That’s all. Wonderful.”

I had to admit, it felt pretty wonderful from my perspective too. In fact, only one thing had felt more wonderful tonight . . . that awesome moment when my heart skipped to double time as Brady James pulled me into his arms.