Page 6 of Always Meant for You
I didn’t turn out how he wanted. When I was little, I followed him everywhere in a pair of Jamie’s hand-me-down overalls—feeding chickens, fixing fences.
Now he can’t even look me in the eye.
He hates this purse and the pink shoes I’m wearing that complement it—my vintage Christian Dior pink patent leather heels. I bought them with tip money. Two hundred dollars. Secondhand. A rare find I hunted for three weeks, checking resale alerts and setting reminders.
To me, my vintage couture finds are more than clothes, accessories, and shoes. They’re proof I can spot beauty built to last. I’d held them out to my father, hoping that he might see what I saw. I tried to explain that they weren’t flimsy or foolish. They were crafted by hand, every stitch laid with intention, every curve shaped by time and skill.
He scoffed and uttered one word.
Useless.
The word struck. Sharp and final.
I glance down. The hem of my black Chloé dress sways just above my knees, revealing a flash of pink on my feet.
Everyone at the church noticed me wearing them. I heard thetsks. Felt the weight of their judgmental gazes.
But Jamie would’ve grinned and said I looked like something off a magazine cover.
Mrs. Horner’s soft laugh draws me back. Her eyes drift to my feet. “Oh, I wish I could wear shoes like that. You look like one of those elegant ladies from the beauty shop magazines.” She frowns at her dress. “I must look worn out next to you.”
The vulnerability in her voice catches me off guard, and I want her to feel beautiful.
I nod at the silk scarf looped through her purse strap. “We can style your look. May I?”
“You can certainly try.”
I slip the scarf free. It’s a deep peacock blue. I gently wrap it around her neck. My fingers move on instinct, folding it into the perfect French knot.
“There.” I take out my cell phone, tap the camera app, and angle it toward her to use as a mirror. “Timeless. And the blue makes your eyes pop.”
A pink flush touches her cheeks. “Well, I’ll be. Not bad for a seventy-nine-year-old farmer’s wife.”
I adjust her collar and dust off her shoulders.
“You look lovely, Mrs. Horner.”
She pats my hand. “Thank you, dear. I’ll go find your daddy now. And remember, Cal and I are right next door if you need anything.”
She lingers, then leans in close, voice soft. “Could I see myself in your phone one more time?”
“Of course.” I hold up my cell.
She smiles a real smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
And I love that I was able to do this for her. Making her feel beautiful settles something in me.
“Enough of my primping,” she murmurs, then holds my gaze. “I’m so sorry about Jamie, dear. I know what he meant to you. This whole town loved that big heart of his.”
My throat tightens. Heat rises behind my eyes. I nod toward the sink. “I should get back to those dishes.”
Her gaze drifts to my heels one last time, a small smile tugging at her lips, before she disappears down the hall.
I glance at my phone. The screen’s gone black.
I tap it awake.
Jamie grins back at me from behind the glass, a baby goat tucked in his arms. His sky-blue eyes sparkling. He’s about to say something that’ll make me laugh so hard it hurts.
