When Autumn Leaves: A Novel Read Free Page A

was it? Is it cold enough for you then, Ellie?” Sean punched some buttons on his cash register. “Or are you one of those strange birds that love being at the very heart of winter?”
    Ellie beamed at him. “Yes.”
    Sean’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, you love winter? Yes, it’s cold enough for you?”
    “Uh, yeah, I, yes, I do. Yes, it is.”
    Sean shrugged and turned to make her latte. How had she managed to screw up casual barista banter? She closed her mouth and waited for her coffee. Sean handed it to her after taking her exact change and looking over her shoulder to the next customer.
    Despite her rather clumsy answer to Sean, she was thinking how much she really did love winter as she slipped out the door. Walking down Brigid’s Way, Ellie noticed how many lights were already strung. Before the night was over they would cover every roof and tree. Tonight, Avening would honor the season with its traditional Solstice Lighting ceremony. Every shop and storefront would decorate in its own special way. There would be nothing mundane or predictable about these lights. Some would be white, some pink. There would be glittery snowflakes and plastic reindeer. Avening would come alive with the stamp of each individual character, and there were a lot of characters in this town. Ellie and her coworkers at the Circle had a tradition of throwing their own Solstice party. In doing this, those who ran the paper were immensely relieved that they’d avoided the gauntlet of political correctness—“Happy Winter” was so inclusive that it sidestepped offending anyone. Ellie was excited to go; she liked being in the spirit. But first, she needed a pair of shoes to wear.
    It only took her two minutes to get to Justy Bluehorn’s shop. Justy was a cobbler, a real, honest-to-goodness cobbler. Rumor had it he had been a fairly famous actor way back when, had traveled all over the world performing in exotic locations. He gave it all up to be a shoemaker. Ellie believed it. She’d seen his shoes, and there could be no doubt that he was indeed an artist.
    She’d been in his shop only once, about a year after she first moved to Avening, to drop off a pair of shoes to get resoled. Immediately upon entering his shop, she was mesmerized by his display. Ellie knew that she didn’t have a clue when it came to fashion—no one saw her anyway, so it didn’t matter what she wore—but Justy’s shoes were, without a doubt, the most beautiful shoes she had ever seen. They were delicate, and yet there was a solidity to them. They felt heavy in her hands when she picked them up. And the colors! Hues she had never seen before, that she could not have imagined. She had been tempted to splurge, but when she found the particular pair she liked, a soft brown Mary Jane, she felt suddenly unworthy. They seemed too perfect. She put them down but resolved to come back and buy a pair when she had an occasion or lifestyle worthy of them. As of that morning, she still didn’t.
    She was, however, dropping off a pair of shoes. They needed to be redyed, or fixed, or polished, or something. They were the only dressy shoes she owned, and she’d owned them long enough to be embarrassed by their age. She had called Justy yesterday and asked if there was anything he could do on such short notice, since she wanted to wear them for the office party.
    Justy had said that he was sure they could figure something out. So with twenty-eight minutes left before she had to be at her desk, Ellie Penhaligan entered the Dutch door of Justy’s workshop with her fingers crossed.
    Ellie was surprised to find the shop exactly as she had remembered it in her mind’s eye. The walls were the same velvety maroon, the shoe display possessed that same magnetic draw, the low counter still looked as if Justy had assembled it from a piece of old barn siding. She was about to call out, but at the very moment her mouth began to open, Justy emerged from the door leading to his