Lavender Beach (26 page)

By afternoon, Eastlyn
had forced herself to shake off the sullen attitude and get ready for her date.

But something else nagged at her.

Cooper’s comment about her wearing a dress had weighed on her for more than a week. And she still had the problem of what to wear at the school assembly. Appearing on stage wearing a stuffy suit didn’t appeal to her. Maybe it was time to think about sprucing up her appearance. Everywhere she went in town every other adult female seemed to already be wearing something summery.

She decided that tonight, she’d girl it up. It was time to stop hiding her leg behind ugly denim and outdated pantsuits. Today was the day she unveiled a new confidence, one left over from her military days.

But going through her closet and the limited selections it held ended in utter disappointment. Chewing her lip, she knew Reclaimed Treasures sold cute clothes but was closed up tight for the holiday. Thinking back to the luncheon at Promise Cove she decided to call in a favor.

She dug out a business card, picked up her cell phone and keyed in the number.

A half hour
later, Julianne met her in front of Reclaimed Treasures. The shop held an assortment of used furniture that Julianne and her manager, Greg Prather, had repurposed from other old wood and refurbished antiques. There were rows and rows of handy household items. But one section stood out in Eastlyn’s memory. She remembered from her very first visit a corner with a mix of trendy eclectic clothes and vintage pieces.

“I’m sorry to bother you today. I know you were probably gearing up for a relaxing day…”

“I told you over the phone not to worry about that. One favor deserves another. You promised to make an appearance at the assembly and I’m helping you keep it.”

“I’m so nervous.”

“Come Friday, don’t let it show. Besides, I know a little something about wardrobe emergencies. As principal, I live for crisis situations like having a change of clothes on hand for accidents. I’m usually ready for anything. I’m so pleased that you called me. I love being a part of helping you prepare for your big day.”

“Which one? Tonight or Friday?”

“Both.”

“You’re a lifesaver for opening up like this. I should’ve taken care of my wardrobe issues a long time ago.”

Diplomatically, Julianne patted her arm. “You’re here now and that’s what matters. I’ve been hailed a time or two for coming through in the ‘lifesaver’ department with six-year-olds so I’m happy you feel that way today.”

“You saw the pantsuit I wore at the luncheon. I’d planned to repeat that look at the school rally. So you know how critical it is I do something about my apparel. Plus, it occurred to me I need an attitude adjustment when it comes to how I look. I used to dress better than this. For once, I’d like to put on something fashionable that promises to wow Cooper. Is that even possible?”

“Of course it is. With your figure, your height, you’ll look sensational.”

Julianne watched as Eastlyn made a beeline straight for the corner where the clothes were hanging as if she’d already made up her mind and knew exactly what she was looking for. Sure enough she picked out several items in record time—a summery pastel sundress with a surplice neckline, a silky, flowing skirt, a couple of tops, and a lightweight jersey cardigan.

She pulled out a few others and held them up for Julianne’s appraisal.  “On second thought, this transformation isn’t just for Cooper, but for me.”

“Glad to hear it. Want to try those on?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve worn a dress I probably should. But I know you’re in a hurry to get back home.”

“Nonsense. When I left, Ryder was watching the Indy 500. You take your time. The dressing room is back here. Follow me.”

Julianne ushered Eastlyn into a little room in the back and said, “If you need help, I’ll be out here waiting for you to make your grand entrance.”

“It might take a while to undress. I usually have to allow an extra twenty minutes every morning,” Eastlyn explained as she disappeared into the dressing room.

Julianne was left to consider all the adjustments Eastlyn must have to face every day in order to deal with her disability. Her respect for the woman grew twofold.

Several minutes went by before Eastlyn reappeared in the hallway to stand in front of the mirror.

Julianne stood back and gaped. “Oh my God, that color is you. You knew exactly what would work for you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. With your hair and skin tone it’s fabulous. Trust me, Cooper will think so, too. What about shoes?”

Eastlyn chewed her lip. “I think I’ll stick with flats for now, even though I have this adjustable foot at home that’s supposed to let me set the heel height. I think it’s still in the carton. I haven’t had a reason to use it yet.”

“Uh, now might be an excellent time to drag it out of the box. Do you need to practice walking with it?”

“Probably. I’ll have to work with adjusting the heel height. Heel height is important. Otherwise it throws my whole balance off. If I remember the sales pitch it’s supposed to be a matter of pushing a button.”

“Let’s hope it’s that easy. You amaze me,” Julianne admitted.

Eastlyn smiled. “Why? Because I had to relearn to walk using an inflatable, weight-bearing walking aid?” She snickered at the memory. “You should’ve seen me stumble and fall the first couple times like a fifteen-month-old toddler. It’s humiliating. But you learn to deal. Thank goodness prosthetics have come a long way since the days of wooden legs. They now have this robotic ankle that makes it possible to move from side to side. I’m hoping the FAA sees the possibilities of it and keeps an open mind.”

Eastlyn turned to go back into the dressing room and stopped, reconsidered the pair of sandals. “You know what? On second thought, I think I’ll give the wedges a try. I can use the rest of the afternoon to practice the adjustable foot thing. I might be able to pull it off. If not, I can always order the right one from my supplier back in Bakersfield.”

Eastlyn picked up a bottle of perfume, spritzed the fumes into the air and sniffed. “Oh, I like this. Add this to my bill.”

“You buy the clothes and the shoes, and it’s yours, on the house.”

“Thanks. I’m beginning to really like this place more and more.”

Loaded down with bags, Eastlyn left Reclaimed Treasures over four hundred dollars lighter in the pocketbook. But she felt elated at the prospect of getting back her former self—that part she’d tried to bury. The woman inside finally wanted out. She hoped her old self was still there somewhere because she was determined to bring her into the light again for all to see, prosthetic and all. The afternoon’s shopping trip was a good launching pad for it.

As soon as she got home, she dug out the adjustable foot from the bottom of her closet. The Runway® design used a slider mechanism with different notches. She tested several settings before finding the right one and making sure the flex was there in both front and back. She even walked up and down the driveway a dozen times or so to make sure the sandals worked.

Turns out, from now on, wearing heels would be a piece of cake.

Why had she waited so long to try it out? That one was easy, she thought. Before Cooper, there had been no one she’d truly wanted to impress.

With one problem solved, she fussed with her hair, settled on a wild tangle of waves and curls. She put the finishing touches on her outfit and turned in front of the mirror. Pleased with the image she saw staring back at her, she hoped the titanium rod—clearly visible with the length of the dress—didn’t repulse him.

Eager for Cooper to arrive, she had this insane notion to go wait for him on the porch. But she tamped down that idea and realized that might send the wrong signal.

As soon as Cooper knocked on the door she flung it open before he’d had time to adjust the expression on his face.

One look at Eastlyn decked out in a pale orchid sundress with the plunging neckline, and a clingy little cardigan that accentuated her breasts, and Cooper took a step back to get a better look.

“Wow, you take my breath away.”

“I do?”

It suddenly hit him that this was a side to her she’d kept purposely hidden.

She wore strappy wedges that made her even taller. But then, he loved her height. To complete the girly look, a lavender quartz necklace dangled from her throat.

He let out a loud whistle. “I knew it. Just as I suspected you’ve been covering up a pair of sexy stems under all that denim.”

How did he always manage to make her feel like a schoolgirl. “Who knew you’d be a fan of titanium,” she pointed out.

He whistled through his teeth again. “Not that there’s anything wrong with jeans, but man, do you make a sexy picture, or what?”

“It was your reaction to the ‘or what’ that I was afraid of. I’m sure the prosthetic is a real turn-on.”

“Would you stop that? Take a look in the mirror.” He spun her around to stand in front of her reflection. He ran a hand across her silky throat, fingered the necklace. “We should all be as fortunate in the looks department. You’re blessed with flawless skin. You have beautiful eyes. You’re a natural blonde without having to bleach your hair dry. You’ve got a quick wit. You’re so gorgeous every man will want to dance with you tonight.”

“Dance? You didn’t say anything about dancing.”

“Didn’t I? Huh. I guess I left that part out.”

She elbowed him in the ribs as they sailed out the door. “Listen pal, I don’t think I can two-step in these wedges. I just learned to walk in them about two seconds ago. I’ll probably have enough trouble trekking down to the bay as it is.”

“Somehow I feel we’re wading in bullshit here,” he teased. “I didn’t think you’d go for the sympathy angle this quick. As long as I can stand still on the dance floor with my arms wrapped around you, I’ll die a happy man.”

She tilted her head, reached over and took his chin. “You get a ten for a perfect comeback.”

“I always did do well on tests,” he proclaimed.

She inhaled his aftershave, eyed his pressed shirt and jeans. She took hold of his chin. “Maybe I should be the one ogling you. You make my mouth water.”

“Let’s just stay in. Who needs a dance floor when we can burn up the sheets here?”

She dragged him along the driveway. “Oh no you don’t. I paid a weeks pay for this outfit and I want someone to see it.”

“I’m someone.”

“Clarification. Bunches of someones.”

“Showoff. I’ve created a monster,” Cooper complained as they made their way to the wharf.

They heard the band already on stage building up to a crescendo of bull fiddle and guitar.

To handle the crowds, the town council had decided to close off traffic on Ocean Street, which made for more room and made the place look like a rock fest. As they got closer they could see the throng of people gathering at the food booths, the lines snaking around for half a block.

She tugged him along behind her and followed the smell of funnel cake. “Feed me. I haven’t eaten since my bowl of Raisin Bran at breakfast. I’m so hungry I could eat a small horse. You’ll have to get your own, though.”

“Who knew you’d be so greedy at splitting a side of meat?” Cooper quipped as he studied the menu. “I’m ordering a cheeseburger.”

“Make it two and a basket of fries.”

They found a table and dug into their meal while the Raffertys—Sonnet and Sonoma and their father, Malachi—took the stage carrying violins. The trio entertained with Bach and Mozart until they switched gears and wound into a wild rendition of
Honky Tonk Man
.

Eastlyn spotted Drea. “Cooper, there’s your sister over there sitting by herself. She looks so down. Why don’t you ask
her
to dance?”

He dipped one of his French fries into a glob of ketchup. “Let’s see, I haven’t danced with my sister since I was twelve. Landon and Shelby insisted that we take lessons. At six, Caleb was too young, so the lucky little so-and-so got out of it.”

Eastlyn put down her burger long enough to sip from her soda, used the cup to make a point. “But you didn’t. I find you more and more fascinating with each layer I peel back. Cooper Richmond, a true Renaissance man, and a connoisseur of books, a world traveler, a photographer, and all-around train nerd. Now I discover you can dance.”

“What can I say? I’m a faceted man of many talents. Anyway, you know that vacant house next to the bookstore? It used to be a dance studio. A lady by the name of Dora Lee Spangler opened it up in 1975. By the time I knew her, Dora Lee was already in her sixties. But they say, in her heyday Dora Lee used to dance with the Rockettes. She even appeared in several of those old black and white films in Hollywood.”

“Whatever happened to her?”

“What usually happens to loners and gypsies? Dora Lee died alone, had no family, no heirs. With no one to pick up where Dora Lee left off, the studio shut its doors and everyone in town went on without a dance instructor.”

“That’s sad. And one more reason you should go ask Drea to join us.”

Cooper looked around for his sister. “There, see, Drea’s fine. She’s already dancing with Tucker Ferguson.” His mouth formed into a little scowl. “That’s moving on past Zach pretty fast. I hope she knows what she’s doing.”