Ruby's Slippers by Leanna Ellis Page A

apply mascara all at the same time. Which makes me wonder what she did for a living before retiring, before moving into the facility.
    “Did you ever work?” I pull a dog treat Gloria bought for Otto out of my bag and give it to him.
    “Oh, sure. Had to. I was a single mom, just like yours. Let’s see, what all did I do? I was a secretary, but not very good. A clown. I did get a few laughs. I was an extra in the movies. You name it, I’ve done it.”
    “Really?” Granny sought her fortune in Hollywood and found her life on a small Kansas farm. My sister had big dreams that led her to Hollywood. “Did you want to be an actress?”
    “Oh, goodness no. I fell into it. Helped pay the bills.”
    “What movies?”
    “Did you ever see Maverick ? The TV show? You might be too young. Oh my goodness, James Garner was so handsome.
    Let’s see, what else? I was in Cleopatra , with Elizabeth Taylor. Scenes with the masses, just another face in the crowd.” She glances in the rearview mirror, tilts it toward her, then back. “Not too bad a face. Anyway, and yes, Liz Taylor was just as beautiful in person, if not more so. And kind. Let’s see,” she sips her Coke while shifting gears with her right hand as the Jeep enters the freeway ramp. “I was in that movie with Debbie Reynolds.”
    “ Singin’ in the Rain ?”
    “No, the Wild West one.”
    I shrug.
    “I can’t remember the name. It’ll come to me sometime. Middle of the night probably. But I wasn’t just an extra. I became a gofer. I’d get the stars coffee or little things they needed. Anything from maxi pads to scarves and hair spray. Doris Day needed throat lozenges one day when I was on the set for … oh, what was the name of that movie? I’ve forgotten more than most people—”
    A sports car whips in front of the Jeep, nearly taking the bumper with it. Sophia blasts the horn. Traffic on the Ventura Freeway resembles salmon swimming upstream. So many cars and trucks are jam-packed together moving as one along the curves of the highway. My nerves are as snarled as the traffic.
    “Are you okay?” Sophia glances toward me, then back at the road.
    I give a curt nod.
    “Are you a control freak?” Her curled lip makes me laugh.
    “Not anymore,” I laugh nervously. “But I probably used to be. I’ve never been one to sit idly by while someone else does the work.”
    “You’re the take-charge type. Taking care of the farm, your mother. Never afraid, just charge!”
    I know that in at least one area of my life, I’ve let fear rule me. Now I’m being forced to face that fear head-on.
    “Don’t worry,” she says. “I know what I’m doing.” She steers with the inside of her wrist. “I even drove a taxi for a while. A friend owned a limo service, and I filled in occasionally for sick drivers.”
    “You sure have lived a varied life.” Mine must seem boring.
    “Well, you do what you have to do to make ends meet.”
    “I’ve only been a teacher. I’ve been about as adventurous as a turtle my entire life.” What was I waiting for? My father to return home? The truth yanks off my shell, and I cringe against the light of it.
    “Running a farm sounds very adventurous, what with weather and livestock. I bet lots of things have happened to you. Why, just being a teacher … well, there’s just nothing more interesting than kids—what they say, what they do. Besides, there’s something to be said for stability. But I’ve always been drawn to adventure.” Sophia takes a quick breath. “My daddy is that way. Encouraging me to take chances, try new things.”
    “Your father is still alive?”
    “Oh, sure.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Around.” She glances over her shoulder before switching lanes.
    “What about your son’s father? Did he leave you?”
    “We were never married.” Her answer doesn’t seem loaded with baggage of regret, uncertainty, or bitterness. “I suppose I should regret that now. Regret doing things I hadno business