"What kind would you like?"
She saw boots in many styles, heels that she was familiar with, sandals that looked scandalous, extra tall high heels that looked illegal, and shoes that reminded her of April Hartley's. Sneakers, she'd called them.
"Those," she said, pointing to a pair of sneakers.
"Planning on running away?" He smiled with a wink.
"April wore those," she explained. "And last year she saved the town of Bridgeport, saved Sam's life, saved Lloyd's life, and the townspeople revered her. I want shoes like hers."
Mathew cocked a brow at her. "This April, did she have a maiden name?"
"I would assume so."
"You don't know it?" Mathew looked at her feet, made a guess, and selected a box from the shelf. "Have a seat."
"I haven't met her personally, but I heard all the stories. They were in the newspaper, too."
Mathew unlaced her worn, dirty old kitten heels and slipped her foot into the sneaker like Cinderella. "How does that feel?"
"Extraordinary," she answered. He pinched the toe to judge the size, and satisfied, he laced her shoe.
"Take a small walk."
Verity stood and tried out the shoe. She walked on clouds—airy with no pressure points. What luxury! Her old shoes were like walking on wood planks. She sat back down in front of Mathew, and she caught his gaze. He'd saved her from her brother, who wasn't a threat, but he wasn't aware, and he'd saved her from Jaime Perez. She wanted to thank him forever, but she didn't know how. She had nothing of value to give him.
"I'll take these," she said.
"Great. After I checkout, we'll get you dressed in your new clothes. Sounds good?"
"Very."
Mathew's wide smile sent her heart aflutter. With a box of shoes in hand, she walked alongside Mathew down the aisle of the mall. There were people talking, laughing, and yelling. Most people were looking down at a black box thing similar to the one Mathew had, the thing he used to make a call. She wondered what was so interesting. A few people stared at her as they passed, but she would remedy that soon.
"Do you know anything else about this April with shoes like those, who saved…everyone?"
Verity considered, trying to recall details from the newspaper. "No. Nothing I haven't already said."
"Right here," Mathew pointed to the restroom door. "If you use the toilet, remember to flush." He winked and her cheeks heated with embarrassment.
She stepped inside, switching out her clothes and shoes. She poked her head out the door. "What do I do with my old stuff?"
"Up to you. If you want to keep them, put them in a bag. If not, there's a garbage can in there."
She closed the door again and looked at her long layers of bulky stiff linen. Her devil's shoes. Did she want to keep them? If anyone back home saw her wearing future clothes, her reputation would go from ruined to killed. But she already wasn't worthy of marriage, what else could they do to her? And even if she went back home, would she stay there? No. If she had to return to the past, she would leave home for good. California was still her dream. She balled up her old clothes, since she only owned a couple dresses in total, and stuffed them into one of the shopping bags. Just in case.
Outside of the restroom, she found Mathew near the sound of splashing water. Green plants separated wooden benches. How was water inside the building? After seeing a toilet, anything was possible.
"What is that noise?" she asked.
"Step up here and lean over." He tugged her hand until she stood on the seat of the bench. Her mouth dropped open at the view of water spraying up in a majestic arch and sprinkling against the water's surface. Coins under the water glistened like gems. The pattering rhythm was hypnotizing, and the spray misted her face with cool water.
"Here," Mathew said, handing her a coin. "Toss it in and make a silent wish. They come true."
She smiled. The future was more amazing than anything she could've ever dreamed.
She tossed the coin in and watched it flutter to the bottom. Verity wished to stay here with Mathew McCall, sweet and kind doctor to animals, driver of dangerous cars, and bringer of adventure. Not to mention, rich beyond her wildest dreams. Satisfied, she sat on the edge of the water with her knees touching Mathew's. "What's this called?"
"Water fountain, but many people use them as wishing wells, as you can see. How do your clothes feel?"
"Fantastic. It's so freeing, but also"—she leaned in close and whispered—"exposed."
Mathew cleared his throat and turned his eyes away. "You're not naked, and you look great. Let's eat."
***
VERITY'S CLOTHES HAD morphed from Old Mother Hubbard to a trendy sorority girl. Mathew wasn't on the up-and-up with women's clothes, but he thought he dressed her like an appropriate young adult—torn skinny jeans, soft flowing floral blouse, and bright white sneakers. Now she would turn heads for reasons other than her clothes. Her wild hair and fierce green eyes and cute freckles stole his attention, but her strength, bravery, and fierceness captivated him. He wanted her naked in his bed. Mathew would settle for half-naked in the mall bathroom. But he couldn't do that to her—she deserved better. Besides, he had no idea if she'd be willing, and he drew a hard line there. With a rumbling stomach, food sounded like a welcome distraction.
"This way. I know a place that has great pizza. Do you have any food allergies?"
"What's that?"
"Adverse reactions to certain foods," he clarified.
"That sounds impossible."
"I wish it was." They reached the SUV, and Mathew loaded her bags into the trunk. She hopped inside without his assistance. "Not so scary anymore, huh?"
She buckled herself in with a smile. "No. The tether here keeps us safe, so no worries."
If only it were that easy.
"Right." He closed her door and slipped into the driver's seat. Soon they were rolling north on a four-lane through town and hung a left. "This is the best pizza in town, but everyone has opinions and all that, so tell me what you think."
Mathew ordered a basic pizza. He didn't know what she liked, and neither did she. For first timers, fewer toppings were probably better. They sat in a booth and Mathew asked, "So, what is this trouble you're in back home?"
Verity's eyes widened. He didn't mean to pry, but with her in his life for at least the next few days, he couldn't resist finding out more about her. She stared at her hands fidgeting with the napkin on the table. "I...I made a mistake. The person I wronged wants to punish me."
"Well that sounds reasonable," Mathew said. Her mouth gaped open, and he backpedaled, "I mean, it sounds reasonable with the information you gave me, that's all. Tell me."
Her finger traced the woodgrain pattern on the table. "I never got along with my parents or my brothers, Johnny and Graham. They all worked the farm obediently. My job was to tend the household like my mother. I was to get married, raise babies, and tend house for my husband." She glanced aside with a face twist with disgust. "I didn't want to marry at eighteen years of age. That was too young for me."