Years may come and go
but your hand will always be in mine.
From the first moment I saw you,
my future unfurled and I knew…
You’d be my past and present too.
Michael rose to cheer and applaud, his attention glued to Granddad as he lovingly danced with Granny.
Purnell loved this song.They were to dance to it at their wedding.An ache, a longing for her, wrapped round him, and that’s when he remembered—by this time, they’d likely have been holding a child of their own.
The music faded and someone shouted, “Hip, hip, hooray!”
Granny raised the knife to cut the cake as Granddad’s friends shouted corny jokes.Then, tenderly, they shared a bite with one another.
Granddad took the microphone to thank everyone for coming.“But the night is not over.We’ve plenty to eat, and the band will be here until carriages at midnight.”More cheers.“Odessa and I want to thank our children, Jeanette, Jacqueline, and Harry Jr.You made us a family, and we love you and all the beautiful grandchildren and great-grandchildren.Odessa, I’m good for another sixty-five.”
“I’m all yours, Harry.All yours.”
Under the applause and whistles, and the sight of his eighty-something grandparents loving each other, Michael saw the life he’d lost when Purnell died.An infection.Sepsis.How utterly unreal.Stupid and senseless.
“Excuse me,” he said, heading off, pausing by the burly, dark-suited man standing at attention by the tent pole to give a command.“Please, keep an eye on Lady Royal.”
Chapter Ten
Scottie
As Michael disappeared beyond the edge of the lights, she almost followed.But she’d seen the pain on his face as he’d watched his grandparents dance together and decided to let him be.
The anniversary atmosphere made her homesick for Dad, Shug, Fritz, and the entire O’Shay team.She’d never been away this long—with six weeks to go.
Even more unsettling was the romantic air under the dance tent.She told herself the love of a good man didn’t matter, yet she secretly longed for it.
The kind she’d witnessed with her grandparents and now between Michael’s—his granny’s cool reception toward her aside.
A cheer erupted on the dance floor as the band and singer belted out Kool and the Gang’s“Celebration.”Michael’s granny startedthe bumpwith his granddad and sent the younger set into a frenzy.
Suddenly, Scottie was pulled from her chair by a group of beautiful young women, their hair in updos, gowns glittering under the lights, and into a dance circle, shouting that the world should “celebrate good times.”
Phones came out.Videos rolled.Selfies snapped.Scottie leaned into every photo.For those moments, she wasn’t Lady Royal ortheScottie O’Shay; she was that freshman college girl again, singing in the dorm hallway with her friends.
When Little Eva’s “Loco-Motion” hit the air, someone grabbed Scottie to lead the conga line right behind Granny Pratt.As she danced, perfecting her John Travolta moves, she spotted Hamish Fickle watching, smirking.She nodded his way.
“Let there be peace between us,” she murmured.
By the time shebump, bump, bumpedto “Sweet Caroline,” she was perspiring and parched, her toes pinched by her designer shoes.Kicking them off, she dangled them from her fingertips and wandered to the tea tent, where she retrieved two bottles of cold, dripping water, and scanned for Michael.
She spied him facing the arching lights rising from the streets and homes of Port Fressa, hands in his pockets, tie undone and flapping loose about his neck.Scottie pressed against the cool, sharp wind climbing over the cliffs and joined him.
“I’m going to be all over social media tomorrow,” she said, handing him a bottle before drinking from her own.“Your cousins dragged me onto the dance floor.I felt like myself.Like I was back at school.”
“They’re a fun lot and hopefully people will be discreet regarding socials.”
“Hamish Fickle kept his eye on me.Maybe he thinks I’m good for the House of Blue.”
“I wouldn’t count on it, Scottie.”Michael took a long drink.“I’ll give him this, though—he recognizes beauty when he sees it.”
