“Forget cleanup. It’s a party out there!” He marches past me and grabs Betsy by the arms, steering her out of the boutique. “Lock up, would you?” he calls over his shoulder at me.
I glare at the back of his perfectly coifed hair as I quickly lock up and follow after them down the walkway. “Would you kindly let go of my woman?”
Deuce looks down at Betsy. “Do you hear a caveman behind us?”
“Nope. I just hear some grunting.”
“Ha ha. You’re both real funny,” I answer as they stop at the periphery of the party happening in the Square.
The catwalk has been taken down to make way for a large wooden dance floor and stage for a local band that’s currently tuning their instruments. Lines have formed for each of the food trucks and kids are running around with melted snow cones running down their arms, safe and happy in their little hometown. White string lights form a canopy over the Square, lighting up the night and making the evening seem magical.
I don’t know if it’s the Battle of the Boutiques win, the mad rush of sales this afternoon, or the way my heart feels about Betsy, but tonight feels like the best night of my life.
Betsy leans into my side and I wrap my arm around her waist. Her head rests on my shoulder and we both just take it all in for several long moments.
“I like it here,” she whispers, as if she’s afraid to be happy.
“Our town slogan isn’tA Little Slice of Heavenfor nothing, honey.” I drop a kiss on top of her head. “But I certainly like this town better with you in it.”
Her hand tightens on my waist.
“Are you two going to canoodle all night or can we get to dancing?” Deuce interjects as the band starts up their first song.
Birdie, Mr. Barrett, and Betsy’s nana walk by as a geriatric pack as scary as any gang I’ve ever seen. Birdie’s eyes light up as she takes in Betsy and me with our arms around each other.
“Just the two I wanted to see! Somethin’ about a kiss heard ’round the world?” She looks between us expectantly.
“Oh Lordie,” Betsy mutters. “Excuse me, Birdie. Mr. Barrett and I were on our way to the dance floor.”
“We were?” he rasps, louder than necessary. He must have turned off his hearing aids due to the band starting up. He doesn’t hesitate to go with Betsy, though, when she puts her hand on his elbow and pulls him in the direction of the dance floor. He shuffles slowly, but Betsy stays with him, leaning over to yell in his ear.
We all watch them go, amazed Mr. Barrett is having anything to do with the party. They appear to have an argument right at the edge of the dance floor. Betsy points to the dance floor. Mr. Barrett stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest, staying right where his orthopedic tennis shoes are planted. Betsy puts her hands on her hips, leans in real close, and says something none of us can hear.
“Oh boy. That man is the grumpiest person I’ve ever met,” Nana says.
I’m about to go out there and rescue her when Mr. Barrett throws his arms out to the side, then marches onto the dance floor, leaving Betsy behind. But when he spins back around, he holds his weathered hand out for her. She takes it and the two begin to shuffle in a circle, right there on the dance floor.
“Well, I’ll be…” Birdie whispers in awe.
Betsy yells something in his ear and Mr. Barrett’s face cracks in the middle. It takes me a second to realize what’s happening, but then I hear it above the music. A boom of laughter thatseems to surprise even the old man. Heads turn and more than a few people gape at the sight of Mr. Barrett dancing. And laughing.
Betsy’s nana turns and pats my chest. “My granddaughter is one of a kind.”
I put my hand over hers and squeeze. “That she is.”
“So, what are your intentions, young man?” Birdie interjects, eyebrows drawn together as she studies me like an insect under a microscope.
Deuce whistles low and slow. Normally, I’d be nervous with the town gossip pinning me down with questions about my love life, but there’s not one bit of me that wants to hide how I feel about Betsy.
“My intentions are very serious. I intend to make her fall in love with Heaven, Mississippi, and with me. Then I’m going to show her how much I love her until I take my dying breath, hopefully right by her side.”
Birdie smiles proudly, like I gave the right answer. Betsy’s nana sniffs and wipes at her eyes. Deuce snorts. I smile ear to ear, watching my girl charm the grumpiest man in town. I know what’s happened to Mr. Barrett. It’s the same thing that happened to me when I met Betsy. She charmed me.
When the song ends, Mr. Barrett tucks Betsy’s hand in the crook of his elbow and lifts his head high to walk her off the dance floor. His usual limp is nowhere to be seen.
“Take good care of her,” Betsy’s nana says as she pats my cheek.
“I will, Mrs. Pemberton.”
