Moon Dance (43 page)

"No, Mom, I'm marrying the book lady's daughter. Georgia." He pointed to her.

"Will she still come to read to us?" Charity redirected her concern to Georgia.

"Yes, I'm certain that she will."

"
Oh, that's good
,"
Charity smiled.
"
I like it when the book lady comes to read.''

"I'll tell her you said so." Georgia bent down and hugged the frail woman in the wheelchair. For one long moment, Charity's expression changed completely, the lines in her face seeming to ease and a faint twinkle lighting her eyes.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "a hug! I haven't had a hug in a very long time."

"Then you should have another one," Georgia hugged Charity again, suspecting that the old woman had had plenty of hugs, and saddened that she'd forgotten. "We'll be back next weekend. At least, Matt will be. I'm going to New York. To dance."

"I used to know how to dance." Charity's face took on a faraway look. "I used to dance with a very tall man. He had black hair, and wore Old Spice
…
"

She fell silent then, perhaps trying to recall nights when she had been young and beautiful and had danced with a very tall, dark-haired man.

Matt and Georgia walked in silence to the pickup, Matt opening both doors as soon as they reached it, letting out the worst of the hot air that had built up inside the cab.

"I love you very much," he said right before he closed the passenger side door.

"Well," Georgia told him when he got into the driver's seat, "I love you very much, too."

He started the engine and backed out of the parking space.

"Matt, are you really going to marry the book lady's daughter?" she asked.

He stepped on the brake, bringing the pickup to a stop. "Yes, I am. If she'll have me."

"Oh, she'll have you," Georgia unbuckled her seat belt and slid across the seat, "if you ask her properly."

"Georgia…
"

"Book lady's daughter," she reminded him.

"Yes. Book lady's daughter. Will you marry me?"

"Will we live at Pumpkin Hill?"

"Yes."

"We'll need a new mattress. The old one is a killer."

"I take it that's a yes.''

She nodded. "That's a yes."

"You'll never be sorry," he took her hands in his. "I promise you, Georgia. You'll never be sorry that you loved me. No matter what else happens over the years, I'll never give you cause to regret loving me."

Georgia tried to recall if she had ever heard words more beautiful. Deciding that she had not, and being unable to come up with what she considered to be an equally beautiful reply, she leaned forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

"Drive," she whispered softly. "Home to Pumpkin Hi
ll. We have a life to plan…
"

T
he following Sunday, Matt drove Georgia to Baltimore where she would take the train to New York for her first workshop as a prospective owner of a dance studio. She was excited by this new venture and chattered nonstop all the way, speculating on everything from the number of other dance instructors
who might attend to the music they might dance to, what techniques she might learn, if she'd see anyone she had met over the years. Matt's head was spinning by the time they finally arrived at the train station, and the ringing didn't stop until she'd gotten on the train and the train had pulled out of the station.

Matt had decided to make a stop at the Aquarium, and it was while he was there that the idea came to him. The spark had been lit by a comment the architect had made, but Matt figured that being in Baltimore, where Georgia had danced for so many years, must have acted as a sort of catalyst. He bolted from the building and searched for the nearest phone book. He stood in the doorway of the phone booth, tapping his fingers on the thick book, trying to remember.

"
'
T' something," he muttered, turning to the listing of restaurants. "Thomas's
…
Trinity
…
Tuscany
…
yes! That's it! Tuscany!"

Matt dialed the number, then counted the rings until a young male answered.

"Is Lee Banyon there?" Matt asked.

"He's here, but he's busy."

"Ah, are there any tables free for lunch?"

"Just a minute, let me look
…
we'll have one in about ten minutes."

"Wonderful! I'd like to reserve it. The name is Bishop. Matt Bishop. And please ask Mr. Banyon if he'd have about ten minutes to speak with me. Tell him I ne
ed his help with something…
"

T
he two weeks in New York had totally rejuvenated Georgia and had, if nothing else, convinced her
once and for all that her decision to retire from professional dancing to open her own studio was exactly the right move for her. She met dance instructors from all over the country and learned as much from them over meals and social times as she had from the more formal workshops. She sat in on all the discussions where the business aspects had been covered, and made contact with several suppliers of dance equipment and costumes. She found a wholesaler who would sell her students ballet shoes and leotards at a discount, and would guarantee delivery in three days. All in all, by the time she boarded the train to Philadelphia, where Delia would meet her, she was exuberant and determined.

"Belize!" Georgia exclaimed when Delia told her where her mystery trip had taken her. "Oh, Mother, Gordon took you to Belize?"

Delia laughed as she eased the Mercedes into the exit lane coming out of Thirtieth Street Station and tried to recall the fastest way to 195. "He did indeed."

"Was it wonderful?" Georgia sighed.

"Totally," Delia nodded.

"Tell me what it was like. Every detail. Then I'll tell you my news
…
"

Delia glanced at her daughter's face. "Umm, maybe your news first
…
"

"Nope. I want to hear about every glorious minute of your wonderful two weeks with the wonderful Gordon Chandler first."

"Well, perhaps not every minute," Delia grinned. "But it was heaven. We went
on a trip into the jungle…
"

"And I'll bet you took notes every inch of the way."

"Not this time," Delia told her. "This time, I just simply enjoyed."

"Mother, I do believe this is a first for you. A trip where you simply enjoyed yourself."

"Oh, I did, darling. It was
…
heaven." Delia sighed, momentarily recalling a singularly perfect evening on a deserted stretch of exquisite beach.

"But now your news," Delia insisted, forcing herself back to the here and now.

"Matt asked me to marry him."

"Oh! And you said
…
"

"I said yes, of course. I'm crazy in love with him, Mom."

Delia looked in her rearview mirror before slowing the big sedan and stopping along the side of the road where she could hug
her daughter. "Oh, Georgia…
are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Georgia sniffed, her eyes puddling with tears. "I couldn't be surer."

"Tissues, sweetie," Delia pointed to the glove box, and Georgia opened it. "When will the big day be?"

"Actually, we're thinking about maybe having a double wedding with Zoey and Ben."

"Oh, a double wedding! How wonderful!'' Delia dabbed at her eyes. She accepted the box of tissues Georgia handed to her, pulled a few out, then gave the box back. "What do Matt and Ben think of that?"

"They think it's a wonderful idea."

"Oh, both of my girls getting married on the same day!" Delia sighed. "Oh, i
t could be so romantic…
"

"It will be, Mother."

"And you're happy, sweetie? You're really happy?"

"Totally. Truly."

"That's all I ask, Georgia. That's all I want, is for my children to be happy."

"And a little chocolate every now and again," Georgia said as she removed the gold foil box from the glove compartment.

"Well, of course. What is life without a truffle now and then?" Delia winked, put the car back into gear and pulled back onto the highway. "Open the box, if you would, and let's see what we ha
ve to celebrate with…
"

Mother and daughter were still laughing and chatting when they reached the drive at Pumpkin Hill.

"Oh, Mom, is that Gordon there with Matt?" Georgia peered through the front window of the sedan.

"Yes. He thought he'd meet me here so that I wouldn't have to drive to the inn alone. We thought we'd stay with Laura for a few days and make sure that all is well with her."

Georgia frowned. "What are they doing at the chicken house?"

"Oh? Is that what that is?" Delia turned off the engine and removed the keys. "It's big for a chicken house, wouldn't you say?"

"I think Matt said that, at one time, they raised chickens commercially here." Georgia's feet couldn't carry her fast enough. She called to Matt, and he crossed the distance between them in three quick strides. He lifted her off the ground and swung her around, kissing her deeply before setting her onto her feet on the uneven ground.

"Hello, Gordon," she smiled. "I heard all about your trip. It sounded wonderful."

"It was wonderful. Best trip I ever took. Best vacation I ever had."

"So I heard."

"And I heard your news," Delia hugged Matt. "I couldn't be happier. Gordon, have you met my future son-in-law?"

"Yes," Gordon chuckled. "We were just discussing some of Matt's plans."

"Oh, you mean for the veterinary clinic?" Georgia asked.

"Among other things." Gordon nodded.

"What other things?" Georgia turned to Matt.

He scratched his chin, as if deciding whether or not to tell her.

"What other things?" she repeated.

"Well, you know that I had a long talk with the architect two weeks ago."

"Yes. He was going to send his contractor over."

"Oh, he did that. Actually, he's been back several times. We went over the ba
rn
six ways from Sunday, but neither of them feel it's a good building to retrofit into a commercial building."

"Why?"

"For one thing, it's too big to be cost effective, in terms of heat and air conditioning, plumbing. There's no insulation and it would cost an absolute fortune to do everything that would need to be done."

"Oh, Matt, I'm so sorry. I know how you counted on that
…
"

"It's okay. We came up with the perfect solution."

"The chicken house?"

"Nope. The smaller of the two ba
rn
s." Matt pointed to his right. "Not only is it less space, so it will be less expensive to convert, but the construction is different, it already has running water, and the roof is newer. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. The architect has come up with plans that are just perfect. I can't wait to show you."

"That's wonderful! When can you start?"

"The loan has gone through, and the contractor has me on his schedule for the first week of July."

"Really? That soon? That's incredible! How long do they think it will take?"

"Maybe six weeks, if all goes well."

"You'll be able to hang out your shingle by the fall!"

"Before the fall. And I already have the shingle."

"You had your sign made up? Oh, show me!" Georgia's eyes were shining, reflecting her pleasure that his dream was, at long last, coming true. If her own dream had to wait a bit, that would be all right. Matt had waited a lifetime to start his own practice, to make his home here at Pumpkin Hill. She could wait a little longer for hers.

"Gordon, can you give me a hand here?" Matt lifted one end of the large wooden sign, and with Gordon's help, he stood it on end. "This will go right there at the foot of the drive, on the left side." He told her, watching her face as she read the deeply carved words, the grooves painted in gold on a dark green background.

"
P
UMPKIN
H
ILL
V
ETERINARY
C
LINIC
M
ATTHEW
T
.
B
ISHOP,
DVM
."
Georgia read aloud, smiling. She
paused then, reading the rest of the script silently, then, it appeared that she read it again.

"
B
ALLET
I
N
T
HE
B
ARN
…
A
T
P
UMPKIN
H
ILL.
G
EORGIA
E
NRIGHT,
I
NSTRUCTOR,"
she whispered.