The Miles Between - Page 30

“They’re fine, Mira. Just choose the ones you want.” Like the money is mine and I really care. Yes, I will have to pony up later, but that won’t be a problem. I walk away to another display, where several varieties of flat Mary Janes are offered. I choose two to take back and show the clerk. As soon as I sit down, I pull the laces on my oxfords and kick them off, my toes wiggling with their newfound freedom. I examine one of the display shoes in my hands. It is black suede with a small suede flower at the buckle. I can’t see a size, but I slip it on anyway. It fits perfectly. I make a lopsided walk to a mirror and admire it, turning my foot one way and then the other. Nice. I glance up to see Seth watching me, and I look away and return to my seat to wait for a clerk. I look up one more time. Seth is still watching me. He smiles and then, thankfully, is interrupted by a clerk. I look back at the shoe on my foot. This one will do.

From across the store I hear a squeal and I turn to see what the commotion is. Mira is hugging a shoe to her chest, grinning so wide she looks like she has sprouted extra teeth. She runs over to join me, plopping down in the seat vigorously. Before she shows me her coveted choice, she takes the time to admire the Mary Jane still on my foot.

“That is so you!” she says.

Really? I lift my foot and twist my ankle one way and then the other. Maybe it is. If there are none in my size, I will take the display pair. “And what did you find, Mira?”

She thrusts her shoe out in front of us to admire. A red peep-toed platform pump with pleated details around the toe and a lace bow. Very red. Very shiny. Very flamboyant. Should I say it is so her? I think not. And I am really not sure she needs the extra height. But I must say something. “They will go with your sweater.”

“That’s just what I thought! And my poodle skirt too.”

“Right. That too.”

“Plus they’re on clearance! They’re practically giving them away! Here comes the clerk. I hope they have my size.” She pulls off both oxfords and stuffs her socks in her bra. “For safekeeping,” she explains.

I look at Mira’s feet. I hadn’t noticed before how large they are.

When the clerk approaches, I pull off the display Mary Jane and hand it to him. “This size fits fine. Do you have another pair?”

He grins. “Most certainly.” He turns to Mira and raises his eyebrows. “And you, miss?”

“These!” she says, jumping up and holding the flashy shoe out to him. “Size ten . . . and a half. Wide.”

The clerk looks up, his short stature accentuated by Mira’s height. The top of his bald head is barely even with her shoulders. His own shoulders pull back, and his eyebrows rise impossibly higher. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something more . . . practical? Like your friend?”

“Oh, no. These! They’re perfect!”

He clears his throat. “They’ve been on clearance for quite some time. I don’t think—”

“Can you check? Please?”

The clerk’s lips pull tight in a polite smile and he nods. He turns on his heel and disappears into a back room. Almost immediately, he returns with two boxes in his hands and Mira squeaks and claps her hands together. He opens my box first and shows me the suede Mary Janes with the dainty flower at each buckle. I take the box from him. I slip them on at once. It is amazing what the right pair of shoes can do. Perfect.

“That will do it,” I say.

He turns to Mira and opens her box. Her smile vanishes.

“I think you will find these much more comfortable and . . . complementary. They’re one of our bestsellers.”

And much more expensive, I note, looking at the price on the side of the box. They are a pair of black flat slip-ons with a tiny lace bow. They do indeed seem like a much better match for her feet. I think he has chosen well.

“Did you look for the others?” she asks.

He offers an unconvincing nod.

Mira clouds up.

“Don’t be such a baby, Mira,” I say. “They’re only shoes. You don’t have to turn everything into a big deal. If you don’t like the ones he brought, find something else.” And then on a second glance at her feet, I add, “These suit you better anyway.”

A satisfied smile spreads across the clerk’s face. These shoes will certainly result in a much better commission for him.

Mira jumps up and runs from the store.

The clerk and I both look after her in shocked silence. I glance across the store and see Seth watching the whole scene.

It was only a small admonishment. And she was being a baby. Practically making a scene over a silly pair of shoes. A ridiculous pair of shoes.

Seth’s eyes are steady.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson
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