“I’m not walking down the aisle barefoot.” Lauren held up the offending stilettos. “But I’m not going to kill myself, either.”
Lauren stepped down from the platform and headed toward the salesperson behind the counter. Macie smiled. Lauren came across as timid and innocent; but when she was on a mission, get out of her way. Macie attached the photos and emailed Lauren’s mother, wondering for the millionth time why Sylvia couldn’t have stayed in town one weekend. Then Macie went back onto Blind Friends.
Lauren didn’t want to make a new dating app. There were enough of those out there. It was Ford’s opinion that making friends was harder than finding true love. Of course, Lauren met Bradford Coleman at a freshman orientation party their second day on campus. Love at first sight and all that bullshit. Ford wanted a way to keep the users’ profiles private, no way to upload photos. That way people could ‘meet’ and get to know each other before they met in person, if they chose to do so. Macie had not. Keeping with the spirit of the app, they had agreed not to exchange names or any personal information like her major. She only knew that her pen-pal was male. Other than that, he could be anybody on campus.
Macie opened the message and began reading
You mentioned not understanding football. I have a better question. Why do people golf? I don’t get it. My father is a big golfer, but he’s terrible at it. Whenever I go with him, and I have to go more than I wish, he spends most of his time in the sand traps rather than the green. Maybe that’s the point. Golf itself is one big sand trap. You have to play to make deals in the business world. I wonder if you stepped onto a course and asked every golfer to take a lie detector test, how many would you catch lying about their love for the game?
Obviously, I’m not a fan.
But I digress. You also mentioned pets in your last message. I’ve never had one. I always thought I would be a dog person, but reading about your love for your cat makes me wonder. Am I a cat person? I honestly don’t know. Maybe one day I’ll find out. But if I ever get a dog, I’m not taking him golfing.
Macie smiled. She’d told him about the cat her mother adopted when Macie was still a baby. Tabby died a little over a year ago, and her mom sunk into a deep depression. Over winter break, Macie adopted a kitten that looked nothing like Tabby and gave it to her mom for Christmas. Reba was her mother’s constant companion, and the light that had dimmed in her mother’s eyes started to return. Reba would never replace Tabby, but she could help heal her mom’s heart.
She tapped on the screen to bring up the keyboard.
Macie glanced over to where Lauren stood with the salesperson. The shoe collection in front of them was vast, and Macie had no doubt Lauren would want to try on every pair. She should just go barefoot. It would be more natural, more Lauren than any shoe on the planet. Shaking her head, she began to type.
ZAC SPARKS LEANED ON a golf club, waiting patiently for his father to putt. Of course, he had to be more patient than usual considering the circumstances. His dad was recovering from surgery, but he refused to miss their monthly outing. Gall bladder removal wasn’t life threatening by any means. Zac would’ve happily skipped the game and taken his father out to eat, instead.
“He’s moving pretty good,” Ford Coleman said beside him.
“Yeah, not too bad.” Zac watched as his father bent over the putter and took aim. Again. “His doc wouldn’t be happy if he knew.”
“Like father like son.” Ford laughed and slapped Zac on the shoulder.
Zac shook his head and smiled. He’d broken his wrist during a drunken skateboarding flip sophomore year. They’d inserted a plate in his arm to make sure it healed. “That wasn’t major surgery.”
“No, but you were on enough pain meds to kill a horse. Didn’t stop you from hitting the beer bong.”
“Which I regretted.” Zac tilted his head and stared at Ford. His friend was in an unusually good mood. Not that Ford wasn’t in a good mood most days, but today more so than normal. “What’s up with you, anyway? Win the lotto?”
Ford’s grin widened. His perfect white teeth gleamed in the Louisiana sunlight. How many times had Zac wondered if Ford would’ve been better making it as an actor in California instead of studying music education and student counseling at Lafayette? Ford’s dark hair and dark eyes were the current standard in LA. His demeanor reflected something calmer, more serene. As much as Zac knew Ford could trade off on his good looks, he also knew his friend’s desire to teach music ran much deeper. Cuts in music departments across the country led Ford to tack on student counseling as a major. If he couldn’t get a job teaching, he’d take care of the kids another way.
“Spill, buddy.” Zac’s father finally tapped the ball, sending it toward the hole but not in. A few swear words flew from the elder’s mouth. Zac was the younger version of his father, except for the eyes. Both had dark blond hair and a square chin, but Zac had been blessed with his mother’s light blue eyes. He saw his future whenever he stared at his father. It wasn’t bad. “Dad might make this putt before noon.”
“Lauren’s trying on the dress she picked out.” Ford’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of his fiancée. “I’ve just been thinking about it. What she picked out. What she might look like.”
It took everything in Zac’s power not to roll his eyes. Ford was like a puppy
