Every face in the place registered a memory—a lost love, a precious past, a dance they’d once had with a person long gone.
Couples formed—mostly two women—but Virgil was snagged by Pink Shoes and Angelo tapped Rita’s shoulder for the dance.
When Pepper’s back was to him, Jonah stepped into the room, holding Atlas in one arm, the other itching to get around her. Margaret, in the wheelchair, saw him first, her mouth opening. Instantly, he raised one finger to his lips.
She put her hand to her lips and her eyes danced, then she nudged the woman next to her, who gasped like Grandma Maggie when Clark Gable sauntered on to the screen.
Angelo looked over Rita’s shoulder and turned her to see Jonah walking toward Pepper. One by one, they all slowed to a stop and watched what they knew was going to be…something.
The most perfect movie climax ever imagined or…the biggest disaster Jonah ever faced.Something.
All the chatter stopped in the room as Jonah came up behind Pepper. He put his free arm around her, gently, from behind. Atlas made a soft squeal at the realization of who it was, reaching for her hair.
Pepper went totally and completely still except for an audible intake of breath.
He put his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “May we have this dance?”
She stayed frozen in place, then very, very slowly, let Jonah turn her around, dragging her gaze from Atlas’s face up to his.
Her whole expression was wary and happy and as sentimental as the music. “All three of us?” she asked on a whisper.
“We’re a package deal and…we miss you.”
She blinked at him, opening her mouth to say something but Atlas squirmed and leaned toward her making “Ma-ma-ma” sounds.
“I swear I didn’t pay him to say that,” Jonah said on a soft laugh. “But I would have.”
Her eyes flickered in surprise, but he drew her closer and held the three of them together to sway to the music.
“What…are you doing?” she asked haltingly.
“I believe this is called the airport scene.”
She frowned, confused.
“I’ve come to get my girl.”
Pepper started to laugh, but her smile faded. “Jonah, don’t?—”
He frowned at her. “And you are going to dance and listen and…and then we’ll see. First, dance. Am I really that bad?”
“Yes,” she said. “On every level.”
He grinned and tried to move to the music, which probably looked as stupid as it felt. He didn’t care, not a bit. He was holding Pepper and Atlas and all the other dancers stepped away until they were alone in the middle of the activity room at Sunset Shores.
They danced until the crescendo of a three-minute song, then he guided the three of them toward Margaret and her cronies on the sidelines. Her lap was open.
“Atlas heard there’s a rumor of a new hat,” he said, slowing in front of her.
The woman picked up the tiny sweater-looking cap. “It was the only yarn I had.”
“Pink is his color.” Jonah eased the baby toward her. “Can you hold him while I persuade this woman to let go of all her reservations and fall as hard for me as I have for her?”
The old ladies hooted loud enough to please Atlas, who settled in on Margaret’s generous bosom like he belonged there.
Taking Pepper’s hand, he led her right back to the middle of the floor, the room filled with silence and the expectations of a very forgiving audience.
In fact, the residents formed, without coordinating, a loose half-circle. Mavis had come in from the front desk and was standing in the doorway with both hands pressed against her mouth.
