Mistletoe Season by Michelle Major

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANGIFOLLOWEDHERmother into the Shady Acres later that week, thinking that Gabe would have been thrilled with her current mood. Anger, frustration, self-pity—a veritable cocktail of negativity poured through her.

“Mom, I think you can handle a dance class on your own,” she said as they stopped in the lobby to sign in. The woman at the reception desk greeted her mother like a long-lost friend.

“I want you here with me,” Bianca said with a sweet smile. “This is the first class I’ve gone to since the heart attack. What if it’s too taxing?”

“It’s ballroom dancing for seniors,” Angi pointed out. “How taxing can it be?”

“The restaurant is slow this time of day, and Andrew won’t be finished with school for a couple of hours. You have nothing else to do, right?”

“Right.” Actually, Angi should be at the Wildflower Inn, prepping for a Rotary Club luncheon they were hosting the following day, and she was fairly certain her mother knew it. She’d seen Bianca glancing at Angi’s phone when a text came through from Emma about a produce delivery that had arrived at the inn.

Her mom had denied reading anything when asked about it, but she’d suddenly become adamant that Angi go with her to the dance class.

Angi wasn’t about to reveal her commitment to helping Emma through to the end of the year, not after she’d promised her mom that she was going to give up the partnership.

It was one more example of Angi failing in multiple areas of her life.

They walked into the large dining area, where the tables had been shifted to the sides of the room to make space in the center.

Josie Trumbell, who owned the dance studio in downtown Magnolia, welcomed her mother. The other class participants crowded around Bianca with murmurs of how great she looked. Angi waved to Josie and headed toward the residents who sat on one side of the room to watch the class.

Iris Carlyle was in a wheelchair, her hands clasped together tightly. She stared blankly at a place in front of her while the other residents carried on a conversation around her.

“Hello, Mrs. Carlyle,” Angi said as she lowered herself into the empty seat next to the older woman. It took a few seconds for Iris’s gaze to focus, and then she smiled gently.

“Angela?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

The woman’s frail shoulders relaxed a bit, as if she’d been worried she might get Angi’s name or identity wrong. “I remember when you used to take the old blooms from the compost bin in the alley and make them into necklaces.”

Angi reached out and wrapped her hand around both of Iris’s, which were cool to the touch. “You were so nice to me. I loved the smell of your shop and all of those flowers. I’d breathe in the scent and imagine I was someplace else, like a beautiful field in the French countryside.”

“Flowers are a thing of beauty,” Iris said softly. “I miss my shop and the feel of the petals between my fingers. Gabe brings me a fresh bouquet every week. He’s a good boy.”

Angi sucked in a quick breath but didn’t answer.

“Have you met my grandson?”

“I have. He loves you very much.”

“He spent too many years in the army. It changed him.” Iris’s feathery brows drew together. “Or maybe it’s just what happens in life, but I don’t think so. He was always a serious boy, but now he’s harder and sadder. Still a good boy. He came to Magnolia when I fell and is running the shop. Do you know my shop? It’s downtown. The name is...” Her eyes squeezed shut as she obviously searched for the name in her mind.

“In Bloom,” Angi supplied. “It’s a wonderful shop. I’m sure it’s been difficult to not be able to visit the store, but Gabe is taking good care of it.”

“He said he’s going to bring me downtown to see the lights for Christmas.” Iris gave her a watery smile. “I don’t like getting old.”

“You’re still beautiful.” Angi leaned in and placed a kiss on Iris’s cheek. The dancers took to the center of the room.

Her mother had been paired with Stuart from the bookstore, a longtime friend, and a man who was definitely participating in this class because of his longtime crush on the dance instructor. Josie gave a few initial instructions and then the music started.

“No,” the woman denied. “I’m letting myself go in here. The hip surgery slowed me down, and I haven’t even gotten my nails done.” She stretched out her fingers to reveal nails with just a few specks of polish left on them.

“I’d be happy to do your nails,” Angi said, tracing a thumb over Iris’s nails. “What’s your favorite color?”

“I’d like red for Christmas.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow at this time.”

“Thank you, dear.” Iris squeezed Angi’s hand. “Have you met my grandson, Gabe? He’s a good boy and quite handsome. The two of you would make a lovely couple. He needs a nice girl in his life. Needs to smile more.”

“I smile plenty.”

Angi startled at Gabe’s deep voice. She started to turn, but he stepped in front of her. “See me smiling,” he said to his grandmother, then offered a maniacal-looking leer.

“That’s terrifying,” Angi muttered, earning a chuckle from Iris.

“Hello, my sweet boy,” she said, and lifted her arms toward Gabe. Without hesitation, he bent and kissed her forehead as she gave him a gentle hug. “Have you met Bianca?” Iris asked when he pulled back. She frowned and turned to Angi. “No, that’s not right.”

Angi’s heart tightened at Iris’s obvious distress. It must be so difficult to lose track of the details. To still be lucid enough to recognize the loss but not to do anything about it.

“I’m Angi.” She pointed to the dance floor. “Bianca is my mom, the one currently dancing with abandon.” Her mother looked over and gave a little wave, then beckoned Angi to join the class.

“Do you dance?” Iris asked.

“Not like that.” Angi shook her head. “I never learned anything beyond the Electric Slide.”

“Gabe is a wonderful dancer.” Iris beamed at him. “I taught him back when he was just a little squirt. He stepped on my toes something awful at the start, but he learned. Do you remember, Gaby? Those nights dancing to Tony Bennett.”

His smile softened into something so sincere and genuinely sweet it took Angi’s breath away. “You always were a fan of Tony. It’s a good thing Grandad found you first.”

How could this sweet man be the same crusty man who blew hot and cold so fast Angi felt like she had both frostbite and third-degree burns in response? Would Andrew someday be that dedicated to his grandmother or even to his mother? Angi could only hope.

“Your grandad was the only man I had eyes for,” Iris said, none of the uncertainty of earlier in her voice. “He did basic training down in South Carolina, and we met when he and some friends came up to the Outer Banks. In his uniform, he was the most handsome soldier I’d ever seen. My grandson is his spitting image.” She leaned into Angi and whispered in a voice that wasn’t a whisper, “Gabe is a handsome devil, don’t you think?”

Angi wondered if the older woman remembered making almost that exact comment minutes ago. How often did Iris circle back through a conversation, loops on repeat?

“I’m sure many women find him handsome,” she said instead of her earlier agreement. She sure wasn’t going to stroke his ego, even for his grandmother’s sake.

The song changed to a mid-tempo waltz, and Iris grinned. “Oh, this is the perfect song. Gabe, be a gentleman and ask this beautiful young woman to dance.”

Gabe looked as shocked as Angi felt at the suggestion.

“I can’t. I really don’t know how to dance.”

“The man leads. Gabe will take care of you.”

Didn’t those words just send an unwelcome thrill skittering along her spine?

Gabe looked like he’d rather stick his hand into a nest of pit vipers than offer it to her, but he dutifully held it out, palm up. “May I have this dance?” he asked like some broody Austen heroine. Mr. Darcy the florist, as her friends had dubbed him months earlier.

Heat rose to Angi’s cheeks. She tried to ignore her body’s reaction to him and her heart’s stammering pitter-patter inside her chest. “I don’t dance,” she mumbled, like that would make a difference.

Since when did what she wanted to do change what she did?

“You might surprise yourself,” Iris said, undeterred by the weak protest.

So Angi placed her hand into Gabe’s, acutely aware of the warmth of his skin and the scrapes on his fingers and his calloused palm. She’d always appreciated a man who had work-roughened hands, although the same didn’t apply to her own.

She had the classic beat-up hands of kitchen workers everywhere. Red from being washed so often and her nails in sore need of tending. She could give herself a manicure at the same time she gave one to Iris, she supposed.

The myriad of thoughts she tried to distract herself with disappeared as Gabe led her to the edge of the circle of dancers.

“A youthful couple,” Josie exclaimed, clasping her hands together in front of her generous bosom. “How lovely.”

Bianca beamed. “My daughter is as lovely as they come.”

“Breathe,” Gabe advised as he pulled Angi closer.

“I’m breathing,” she ground out, then realized she was holding her breath.

“There’s no pressure.” He lifted her hand to his shoulder and placed his on her waist. “We’re guaranteed to look good in comparison. You could face-plant a dozen times, and the fact that you could get back up would make you the envy of everyone in the place.”

“I don’t want to dance,” she told him as she glanced up into his dark eyes. She hadn’t been so close to a man, held for any length of time, for far longer than she cared to admit. She blamed her heightened awareness on that fact and tried to ignore her body’s response to Gabe in particular. This close, the flecks of green in his hazel eyes were obvious, and the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes made her want to trace a finger over them.

Had he gotten those because he’d been deployed to deserts with harsh sun and cruel wind? Or had there been a time when he’d laughed freely—maybe with a woman—and that past joy was now constantly reflected on his face?

“You and I have more in common than either of us probably cares to admit.” He spun her in a wide circle. “We’re both living our lives for other people at the moment.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer, and she nearly tripped as they pummeled into her. Gabe’s arms tightened around her as he steadied them both.

Gabe will take care of you.

Iris’s words fluttered through her mind. Angi didn’t want anyone to take care of her. Since returning to Magnolia, pregnant and out of options, she’d been trying to prove that she could manage her own life. Yes, she’d made a colossal mistake in falling for a man who loved his career more than he could ever care for her, and she’d vowed not to repeat it.

But that mistake had resulted in Andrew, the best part of her life. There were no regrets on that front.

Others, yes, but better not to focus on what she couldn’t change.

“That’s not true,” she argued when she felt steady enough to say the words without her voice cracking.

Gabe lifted a thick brow. “You’re at a dance class in a retirement home, surrounded by people who think a rousing game of bingo is the highlight of their week.”

“Don’t underestimate the lure of bingo,” she said. “Both for improving cognitive function and the fun of covering that last square.”

Gabe stared at her.

“I’m here because I want to be,” she murmured.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “Because it makes my grandmother happy. Your mom depends on you for her happiness.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“It’s not what you’d choose for yourself if you didn’t have to.”

His voice was soft, but the words chafed like sandpaper across her skin.

“You can’t always get what you want,” she said, letting sarcasm drip from her tone.

One side of Gabe’s full mouth curved as he led her in an elaborate spin that ended with her facing away from him, her back pressed to his chest. “But what do you need, Ang?” he asked into her ear.

She was saved from answering by the end of the song. “Next we’re going to move to the Electric Slide,” Josie told the dozen participants. “It’s a wedding reception staple, and now that the Wildflower Inn is putting Magnolia on the map for discerning brides everywhere—” she winked at Angi “—we need to make sure you can cut a rug with the best of them.”

Bianca, who was standing a few feet away with her partner, dropped Stuart’s hand and stiffened. “I’m feeling slightly light-headed,” she said with just the right amount of breathiness. “I’ll sit this one out.”

Angi took a step toward her mother but paused when Josie held up a hand. “Bianca, stay with us.” She leveled a stare at her longtime friend that Angi would imagine had struck fear in the hearts of many a tiny dancer. “We’ll go slow and make sure you’re okay. You’re strong, my friend. Your heart is strong. It can handle this.”

A multitude of emotions flitted across her mother’s face. Irritation, defiance and, finally, resignation. To Angi’s surprise, her mother nodded. “Fine,” Bianca agreed. “But I’m not going to like it.”

“We’ll see,” Josie said, and then turned on the music.

“I agree with your mom,” Gabe said a few minutes later as he turned the wrong way again and bumped into Angi. “Can’t we just stick to the chicken dance?”

Angi chuckled and executed a perfect turn. “This is more my tempo. I love a good line dance.”

Josie led them through several more dances, including the cha-cha and the foxtrot. Angi found herself paired with Gabe as well as several male residents of the facility. For men who shuffled back and forth to their rooms most days, they moved with surprising grace in the dances.

“I remember USO dances,” one of the men told her as he led her in a swing dance. “It was always the best part of the holidays on base. We might be homesick, but for a few hours dancing to the music we could forget how far away we were from the ones we loved.”

Angi’s heart melted at the nostalgic sentiment. She glanced over to see Gabe dancing with her mother, and her heart softened even more at how relaxed he appeared. Her mom had seemed to recover from her claim of light-headedness at Josie’s goading. Not for the first time, Angi wondered at the coincidence of her mom claiming to feel bad whenever the inn or Angi’s work outside the restaurant was mentioned.

But now everyone in the group was laughing and having fun, and the residents watching, including Iris, seemed to be enjoying the music and dancing just as much as the class participants.

So much so that when the class had finished, Angi pulled Gabe and Josie aside. “I think we should do a holiday dance as our big fundraiser event for the festival. It would be something unique and fun. We can rent a big tent to put up in the square and find a DJ who can play a variety of music. People can buy a special ticket to attend a class taught by Josie at the start.” She glanced at the other woman. “If you’d be willing to donate your time?”

“Of course.” Josie grinned. “We haven’t had a community dance in town for decades.”

“Because people don’t want to come to something like that.” Gabe shook his head. “Dances are for high school kids—homecoming and prom or whatever.”

“Not true,” Angi argued, wondering why he would fight her on this. “As Josie said, everyone loves dancing at weddings. This would be an easy way to raise money for...”

Gabe scowled at her. Josie looked expectant.

“A veterans’ program.” The idea came to Angi on a flash. “Meredith and Ryan were in the restaurant the other day, and they were working on plans for an emotional support pet program for former soldiers. We’re almost at our goal for funds to donate to the school. What if the money we raise at the dance goes toward that?”

“It’s an amazing idea,” Josie told her.

“Seems like more work than it’s worth.” Gabe shrugged. “We don’t have a lot of time until the final weekend, and most of the advertising and marketing budget has already been spent.”

“I’m sure we can talk to Avery in the mayor’s office,” Josie said. “I’ll personally call Malcolm and get his buy-in.”

Bianca approached at that moment. “What’s going on?”

“Your daughter had a fantastic idea for a fundraiser to do as a culmination of Christmas on the Coast.”

“Of course she did.” Bianca wrapped an arm around Angi’s shoulder. “She’s the best. And with her wonderful boyfriend at her side, my girl can do anything.”

“Mom, stop,” Angi grumbled.

“What boyfriend?” Josie demanded. “What did I miss?”

“You didn’t know that my Angela and Gabriel are a couple.” Bianca grinned at Gabe. “They are gorgeous together.”

“I...didn’t realize... I mean...yes.” Josie looked between the two of them. “Since when have the two of you been dating? As I remember it, there’s some history there.”

“We can’t rely on good weather,” Gabe said, ignoring Josie’s question and comment. “And there isn’t a big enough space in the square for the size tent you’ll need.”

“What about at town hall?” Josie suggested, then shook her head. “No, even in the basement there are no rooms large enough.” She sighed. “It’s a great idea, sweetheart.” She patted Angi’s cheek. “But I don’t think there’s any place big enough in town to hold a dance.”

Angi smiled even though tears stung her eyes. It shouldn’t matter. It was one idea, and she’d figure out another one. But she liked the idea of a dance to finish the town’s holiday celebration. People wanted to feel like part of the community, and it meant something to her to be able to give them that. To make the event her own.

She felt Gabe studying her and purposely looked away.

“I have an idea for a location,” he said in that low, gravelly voice.

“You don’t even think it’s a good idea,” she reminded him with an eye roll.

“Your sweetheart is being nice, sweetheart.” She couldn’t miss the warning in her mother’s tone. “Don’t be irritable.”

Bianca reached around Angi to squeeze Gabe’s arm. “She didn’t have much for lunch, so she’s probably hungry. She gets cranky when she’s hungry.”

“I’m not cranky,” Angi said, then turned to Gabe. “I’m not.”

“You’re allowed to feel however you want,” he answered simply, defying every one of her expectations.

Then he shocked her even more by leaning in for a quick kiss, earning approving clucks from both Bianca and Josie. Like a miracle, Angi’s anger disappeared, replaced by a tingly feeling rushing through her veins.

“Um...thank you. What’s your idea?”

“Dylan Scott is working on redeveloping the old mill outside of town. I heard he’s got a sportswear company interested in leasing the space.”

“Mal mentioned that at our last city council meeting,” Josie confirmed.

“But it’s still empty as far as I know. It might be a good option for the dance, and I’m sure if Carrie likes the idea that Dylan will make it happen.”

Josie nodded. “That boy is over the moon for her.”

Angi thought about what it would be like to have someone in the world who was so dedicated to her happiness.

“I’ll call Carrie when we leave here.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around Gabe’s neck. “Thank you,” she repeated, trying to convince herself that his display of physical affection was all for show.

Even if that wasn’t how it felt inside her body.