Bride Candidate #9. Susan Crosby
too stunned by Luke’s announcement to focus on the woman who’d approached. Twice? He’d almost been married twice? Well, now, didn’t that bit of news put a whole new twist on things. “Um. Oh, uh, Emma, good morning. No, he’s not my boyfriend, new or otherwise. This is Luke Walker. He’s the president of Titan Athletic Shoes.”
“Titan. Just Titan, now,” he said, holding out a hand to the frail, stooped woman. “We’re branching out. Not just shoes anymore.”
“My grandsons like your shoes, young man.”
“I’m glad to hear—”
“Status symbols,” Emma announced, then clucked her tongue and wagged her head. “Skewing all the kids’ concept about what’s important. In my day, we knew the value of a dollar. Didn’t waste ’em on high-priced footwear when something practical would do. Had hand-me-downs most of the time, too.”
“Emma! Yoo-hoo, Emma!”
She flitted away to greet her newly arrived friend.
“Well. I guess she put me in my place,” Luke said, bemusement on his face.
“They speak their minds. It’s one of the things I love about them all. Okay, Lucas, you need to take your place. They’ve started their warm-up stretches.”
Ariel checked on him every so often. Each time, he was smiling more, flirting more. The ladies batted their eyes at him. The men jabbed back in imaginary boxing matches. Only Emma seemed immune, turning her nose up at his efforts.
When Ariel had finished arranging meal deliveries for the Center’s housebound members, she joined Luke. The daily walking had ended. He’d pulled up a chair at a round table with a few people, not talking, but listening to them. Intently.
She came up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder, alerting him that she was there.
Luke pushed back his chair and stood. “Miz Emma, now don’t you go charmin’ anyone else the way you did me today. I swear, you wouldn’t be able to keep ’em all at bay.”
“Don’t get smart with me, young man”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll take into consideration everything you had to say. I appreciate your honesty.”
Flustered, Emma fumbled with her knitting. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
Luke settled into the driver’s seat of Ariel’s car a few minutes later. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb.
“Don’t mind Emma,” Ariel said, glancing his way. “She’s a chronic complainer.”
“But she’s right. Kids today have enough on their minds. They shouldn’t have to put up with peer pressure over whether or not they’re wearin’ the right shoes.”
“Lucas, we went through it, too.”
“But I’ve contributed to it. Profited from it.” He drummed his fingers harder.
“So, what do you propose to do? Erase your football career? Reduce your prices? Shut down your business?”
“Think about it,” he said. Not that he hadn’t considered the issue before, especially when the marketing department presented a new advertising campaign geared at kids. “You know, this could be a whole new market.”
“What could?”
“Seniors. They’ve got different needs, don’t they?”
“Different challenges,” Ariel said.
“Yeah. Arthritis, joint replacement, foot problems. Believe me, I can sympathize, even at my age. What if we design a line for seniors? Velcro straps. Better shock absorbency. Designs made to fit an older foot better.”
“Affordable.”
“Affordable even for Emma.” Luke grinned. “Your whole group could star in the ads.”
Ariel could picture it. “Emma’s grandsons would think she was so cool.”
“She’d be a great spokesperson, wouldn’t she? We have to do this right away, before any more time passes. I’m gonna start on it first thing when I get back to the office.”
Ariel smiled to herself. All it took was personal involvement, getting people to really look at others, to see them as individuals. That’s the way change came about. Luke had just taken a big leap of awareness. He’d find the rewards waiting, just as she had.
Satisfied, she closed her eyes and rested the final few blocks to the youth center.
Four
Chase Ryan, administrator of the Wilson Buckley Youth Center, was the meanest-looking person Ariel knew. In the three years she’d known him, she hadn’t once seen him smile. His granite face hewn in a perpetual scowl, he could turn the toughest, most foul-mouthed teenager into a model of good manners with just a look. Every kid who came to the Center learned fast that the soft-spoken man meant business. Oh, he gave second chances—once—but he had no tolerance for people, young or old, who didn’t learn from their mistakes.
Ariel and Chase coexisted peacefully because each respected the way the other worked—Ariel with warmth and friendliness, Chase with uncompromising expectations. She wondered how Luke and Chase would get along.
When Ariel and Luke stepped into the Center, they almost crashed into Chase, who had a giggling child tucked like a football under each arm.
“Ariel,” he said without expression.
“It’s the mermaid,” the three-year-old boy under his arm shouted. “Hi, Mermaid.”
“Jacob. What’s happening?” She high-fived both kids, then looked at the man holding them again. “Chase, this is Luke Walker. Chase Ryan”
Chase nodded. His gaze bore into Luke’s. “Thanks for stepping in. It made a big difference.” He hitched the kids a little higher and walked toward the classroom the preschoolers used.
“Rules with an iron fist, I’ll bet,” Luke commented to Ariel.
“You’d be surprised He’s complicated, but he grows on you. Let’s head into the gym and see how they’re doing setting up the equipment for Saturday”
“Why’d the boy call you Mermaid?” Luke asked as they walked.
“Because of my name.” At his blank expression, she added, “The Little Mermaid?” Still no response. “The Disney movie?”
“Guess I’ve been out of touch,” he said.
“Don’t you ever get teased, Luke Skywalker?”
“Not more than once. My parents certainly didn’t choose my name knowing it’d be some famous character. I’m guessin’ yours didn’t pick your name because of a fictional mermaid.”
“My parents didn’t choose the name at all. Oh, there’s Sam and Marguerite They beat us here”
Luke stopped her from moving all the way into the cavernous gymnasium. “Hold on, there. What do you mean your parents didn’t choose your name?”
“It doesn’t matter”
It mattered Something flashed in her eyes before she turned and walked away, although her tone of voice hadn’t conveyed it. Something she could control by pretending it wasn’t of consequence.
He watched her hug Sam and Marguerite, a gesture as natural as breathing, he realized. Which meant that when she’d hugged him last night, he’d placed too much importance on the act. Every time he thought he had her figured out, his assumptions got turned upside down.
The hours slipped by. Luke read reports, consulted with Sam and Chase, asked questions and offered advice, although he was constantly distracted by Ariel as