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“My feet are killing me,” I said as I walked toward the sitting area with the vintage couches surrounding a fire in the corner of the tent.
“You’re telling me.” Alice collapsed in a heap beside me. “I feel like I’ve strapped razor blades to my feet.”
“You should really try these.” Marge sat down and kicked up her orthopedic shoes. “We’re the same size.”
Alice pulled a face and shook her head. “No. No way.”
“They are so comfortable. Seriously. Just try them on.”
“No!” she protested, but we all started teasing her, calling her a chicken and pansy.
“Fine!” She tossed her arms up and then kicked off her strappy stilettos.
Marge pulled off her shoes and handed them to Alice. With a soured face, Alice slid them on.
“Well?” I asked as she stood up, shifting her weight between the honkin’ shoes.
Her lips drew back as her eyebrows lifted. “Wow. It really is like walking on a cloud.”
Marge slapped her thigh. “See! I told you! I’ve been telling you and telling you!”
Alice did a little spin, finishing by hopping up and down. “Wow! I could probably keep dancing longer if I wore shoes like these!” She twisted her body, glancing down at the ugly footwear. “Not that I will, though. I mean, hello, they are hideous.”
“Ah, who cares?” Marge asked. “So they aren’t glittery dancing shoes. They’re comfortable!”
“I need both,” Alice answered. “I’m not wearing ugly shoes, but I’m done torturing myself in these.” She nodded toward her discarded stilettos.
“Someone somewhere has to make fancy orthopedic shoes,” I said.
“They don’t.” Alice shook her head. “Trust me. I’ve looked everywhere. The ‘fancy’ orthopedic shoes are still beyond awful.”
As she kept moving around in her shoes, I pursed my lips and tipped my head. “Then why don’t we?”
“Why don’t we what, dear?” Doris asked.
“Design and sell beautiful but comfortable shoes for people our age. Dancing shoes, nice work heels, party shoes. Beautiful and comfortable shoes. Why not? I spent a lifetime in marketing. I know how to launch new products and advertise. No one has better fashion sense than Alice. She can help design them and dance in them to make sure they’re comfortable.”
“Oh!” Marge sat up. “I can be the spokesperson! I’ve been told I’m really natural talking on camera. And you know I’ve got a face for TV.” She waggled her eyebrows.
Alice pulled a face. “Maybe your job can be to work security. Lord knows we’ve seen you slaughter a snake with nothing but a stick.”
Marge nodded. “Yeah! Security. I’ll make sure no one steals the shoes.”
More ideas started flashing in my mind, the way they used to when I’d get a new account. “We’ll use Alice and her famousGammypersona as the spokesperson! People love her, and she’ll sell a ton of shoes!”
“Are we really talking about doing this?” Alice asked, excitement flickering in her eyes.
“Why not? We’re all retired, but honestly, I wasn’t ready to, but Bruce got sick. I would love to start a company that will give us all a new passion in life, something we can do together. Something that will help other women. We can do this. I truly believe we can.”
“It sounds lovely, but I don’t have any experience doing anything like that.” Doris frowned.
“You can be the baker to keep us sustained. We’ll need lots of muffins while we’re designing shoes.”
“Yeah. I’ll need sustenance to stay strong, so I can kick any perps’ asses if they try to break in and steal our shoes.”
I chuckled, my mind exploding with visions of our new business and working together. “Well, ladies? What do you say? Are we starting a shoe company together?”
I waited, watching while they looked at each other, smiles spreading across their faces.
