EPILOGUE
“I Hope You Dance”
“Any idea why we’ve been summoned?” Wally asked as Skye turned her Bel Air into the crowded parking lot of an empty building near the Better Than New used-car lot and the Tales and Treats Bookstore.
“Nope.” Skye shut off the motor. “Aunt Olive asked us to come and said she’d explain when we got here.” She gazed up and down the dark street, thinking how the town would have changed if Rex Taylor had had his way.
It was a month since Rex had been arrested for the murder of Suzette Neal, and Scumble Riverites were still reeling from the news. Some of the citizens were happy that their community would remain as it was, but others mourned the loss of the music theater project and the revenue it would have generated.
With Rex in jail awaiting trial, Kallista and the rest of the Country Roads staff had left the area without a backward glance. Other than the big FOR SALE sign on the Hutton dairy property, there were no indications that Rex or his crew had ever planned to turn Scumble River into the Branson of Illinois.
Kallista had immediately begun divorce proceedings, and was back in Nashville building a mansion modeled after Tara. Rumor had it that her and Flint’s duet album was scheduled for release next summer.
Wally broke into Skye’s thoughts. “It seems out of character for Olive to take this kind of initiative.” His expression was quizzical. “In my experience, directives come from Dante, not his wife.”
“Mine, too.” Skye got out of the car. “Which is exactly why I said we’d be here. Something’s up.”
“Then let’s go see what it is.” Wally tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
The door to the building was open, and Skye and Wally walked inside. The foyer was dark, but lights and conversation to their left beckoned them.
“This is a little creepy,” Skye said, tugging on Wally’s sleeve. “Do you think Aunt Olive might still be afraid we’ll tell Dante about her affair? Is she setting a trap to get rid of us?”
“Not with a room full of witnesses.”
“Maybe the voices are recorded and the vehicles in the lot are from Hugo’s used-car dealership.”
“I’ll protect you.” Wally steered Skye toward the brightness. “We made it out of Doozierville alive—I’m sure we can handle your sixty-three-year-old aunt.”
“We barely made it out alive,” Skye reminded him. “And you weren’t the one who ended up painted as orange as an Oompa-Loompa.” She reluctantly allowed herself to be led forward.
When they turned the corner, the area they entered was one big space with polished wood floors and mirrored walls. A long table holding plates of snacks and an assortment of drinks was set off to one side. Soft music came from a CD player, and people in groups of three or four stood around talking softly.
Skye scanned the crowd, spotting her parents chatting with the Leofanti aunts and their spouses. Another cluster contained her Leofanti cousins and their families. A third group contained Trixie and Owen. Skye was relieved to see that the couple must have patched up their differences, because Owen had his arm around his wife’s waist and Trixie was smiling up at him with love shining from her eyes.
Among the nonrelatives, two guests caught Skye’s eye—Simon and Jess from the Brown Bag. The men appeared deep in conversation, and Skye wondered what Suzette’s twin was discussing so earnestly with Simon.
Her curiosity was satisfied when she overheard Jess saying, “I intend to be at Rex Taylor’s trial every day, and once he’s found guilty, I’m asking the prosecutor to let me speak before the court, during the time family members are allowed to address the judge.”
Simon murmured something Skye didn’t catch; then Jess continued, “I’m planning a trip to California and Nashville to find out more about Suzette and my biological family.”
Skye and Wally joined a group of business owners, but when the others began discussing how disappointed they were that Branson of Illinois wasn’t coming to Scumble River, Skye subtly pulled Wally away and asked, “Do you see Olive or Dante?”
“No.” Wally examined the assemblage. “That’s odd. The mayor usually makes sure he’s the center of attention.”
Skye frowned. Where were the party’s hostess and her husband?
As she opened her mouth to make another comment about her aunt’s absence, she heard a querulous male voice. “Why the hell are we here?” There was an indistinct murmur; then the same voice complained, “What’s gotten into you, woman? You’re not going through that mental pause again, are you?”
Dante waddled through the arch leading into the party room, followed closely by Olive, who was wearing a purple velvet cape that covered her from her neck to her feet. Once they appeared, everyone swarmed toward them.
Skye blinked in surprise as Olive spoke over her husband. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I guess it’s a good thing there’s not much to do in Scumble River on a Tuesday night.”
Several people chuckled and Olive continued, “I’ll explain everything in a few minutes. In the meantime, please help yourself to the refreshments.”
Dante made a grab for her arm, but Olive eluded him, walked toward a door at the rear of the room, and disappeared.
Once everyone had a beverage and a plate of munchies, conversations continued and Skye said to Wally, “So, how did it go with Darleen today?”
“About as you’d expect.” He shrugged. “She was happy her boyfriend took a plea deal so she didn’t have to testify against him, but she still claims she doesn’t need to be in rehab and begged me to change my mind.”
“But you didn’t?” Skye’s green eyes were sympathetic.
“No.” Wally’s jaw firmed. “I told her if she didn’t complete the program, you would press charges.”
“Good.” Skye paused, then asked, “Did she give you the truthful annulment letter, or is she still threatening to write a fictional account that would hold up the process ?”
“She gave me the honest version, but only after trying to wheedle money from me for it.” Wally put an arm around Skye. “I dropped the envelope off at the church, and Father Burns said that by spring he’d be able to give us an idea of the timeline.”
“And once we get that, I can start planning our wedding.”
“What in blue blazes are you wearing?” Dante’s bellow interrupted Wally and Skye’s kiss, and she looked in the direction of her uncle’s ire. Olive had removed her cape to reveal a leotard and wrap skirt. She’d replaced her boots with ballet slippers. She pirouetted gracefully into the center of the floor and curtsied with a sweep of her arm.
After a brief hesitation, the guests applauded, although most looked bewildered.
Olive brought her hands together at chest level, then said, “Welcome to the Scumble River School of Adult Dance. I will be teaching the joy of ballet and my partner will be teaching the pleasure of modern dance. She is sorry she can’t be with us tonight, but she will be here when we open our doors January second.”
Everyone crowded around Olive, asking questions and congratulating her, but Dante roared, “Wait just a cotton-pickin’ minute! I didn’t say you could open a dance school. Of all the dadgum fool ideas of yours, this takes the cake.”
Olive’s face paled, but she straightened her spine and said, “I don’t need your permission, Dante, and this isn’t a stupid idea. None of my ideas, which you refuse to listen to, are stupid.”
Silence ensued as the guests watched the couple.
“You need my say-so to spend my money.” Dante’s face was stained with an ugly flush.
“I didn’t use your money.” She paused and took a gulp of wine from the glass someone had handed her. This moment was clearly a difficult one for her. “I used the money my mother left me.”
“But . . . but . . .” Dante sputtered. “We agreed that would go for a new combine.”
“I never agreed.” Olive held her ground. “In recent days I’ve realized that although life isn’t always tied with a bow, it’s still always a gift.”
“But you’re my wife,” Dante protested. “You promised to love, honor, and obey.”
“Well, from now on all you’re getting is two out of three.” Olive’s gaze was unbending and rebellious. “Take it or leave it.”
At Dante’s look of astounded disbelief, Skye buried her head in Wally’s shoulders and shook with laughter. When she glanced up, her uncle was gone. She switched her gaze to Olive, who seemed unfazed by her husband’s departure. She was flitting from group to group, talking excitedly.
People stayed for hours, drinking, eating, and socializing, and when Skye whispered to Wally that she needed to find the bathroom, no one else seemed to notice. However, when she emerged from the ladies’ room, Simon was waiting for her in the tiny hallway.
“Hi.” He pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against. “Got a minute?”
“Of course,” Skye answered cautiously. He’d made no more outrageous attempts to win her back, but she still wasn’t sure that Simon had accepted the fact that she was marrying Wally.
“I just spoke to Jess Larson and he’s allergic to his sister’s dog, so if it’s okay with you, I’d like to adopt Toby.”
“That would be wonderful.” Skye would miss the little white pup, but it would be better for all concerned if Simon took him. “I’m just not home enough to care for him. When I drop him off tomorrow morning, I’ll bring all his things with me.”
“Good.” Simon started to walk away, but turned and said, “I wish we were adopting Toby together. I still miss you every day, Skye. There are times I’m sorry we ever met.”
“Please, don’t be.” Skye swallowed a lump in her throat. “I can’t remember who said it, but I think it’s true that we should never cry because something is over. Instead we should smile because it happened.”
As Skye and Wally drove home later that night, she told him about Simon adopting the dog; then she said, “You never did tell me why you were so against my keeping Toby.”
Wally didn’t answer right away. Eventually he said, “When I was thirteen, I begged my dad for a dog and he bought me a collie I named Rags.”
“Oh?” Skye was afraid of where this was going.
“The next year I made the high school football team and I had to spend a lot of time practicing and doing homework. Dad told me I was neglecting Rags, but I didn’t listen. One day I came home and Rags was gone. I thought he’d run away, but my dad had given him to one of his employees’ sons. He said a dog had the right to an owner who spent time and attention on him.”
“I see.” Skye wanted to hate Wally’s father for taking away his dog, but it was hard to fault the man for making sure that an animal he was responsible for was treated well. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Me, too.” Wally crossed his arms. “But it was a lesson well learned.”
They sat silently for a few minutes; then Skye said, “I still feel so bad for Suzette. I can’t get her out of my mind. She never got to know what really happened to her mother or to meet her brother or to be a star.”
“That’s the worse thing about murder,” Wally agreed. “The victims never get a chance to reach their full potential.”
“Exactly.” Skye chewed her lip.
“Suzette did get to sing at the concert.” Wally stroked Skye’s cheek.
“That’s true.” Skye brightened. “So many people go to their graves with the music still inside them. At least Suzette got to let hers out.”