“Picnics and midnight strolls?” Joy mused. “Why, I don’t believe we’ve gone on a midnight stroll yet.”
“Well, I don’t have to work tomorrow, so after everyone is gone, we’ll go for a midnight stroll. It’ll be hard for you to be up at dawn after that though!” he warned with a grin.
“I can do it! You have no faith in me!”
“I have all the faith in the world for you.”
She took a step forward into his arms and pressed her lips to his. “Thank you for believing in me, even when I can’t seem to believe in myself.”
*****
The grand hall of the Boston Charity House teemed with the city’s elite, a sea of extravagant gowns and tailored suits. Joy and Thomas navigated through the crowd, Joy’s simple silk dress a contrast to the dresses those around her wore.
“Are you sure about this?” Joy whispered.
“Absolutely,” Thomas replied. “Anytime they make you feel uncomfortable just think about how they would look running through the grass with mud caked on their feet. You could outrun anyone in this room.”
As the evening wore on, Joy found herself enveloped in laughter and genuine conversation.
“Thomas,” Joy said later, a twinkle in her eye as they watched couples whirl across the dance floor, “do you think they’d mind if we danced the Massachusetts Stomp instead of the waltz?”
“Only one way to find out.” With a mischievous grin, Thomas led her to the center of the floor.
Their steps were much different from the others there. They were joyful skips and playful hops, a dance all their own. The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted into cheers and clapping, others joining in the unconventional frolic.
“Joy,” Thomas laughed, “you manage to make everyone happy.”
*****
Jennifer Collins watched from the edge of the room, her champagne flute poised idly at her lips as Joy Worthington captivated yet another circle of Boston’s elite. There was an undeniable sincerity in Joy’s eyes. For some reason, Jennifer felt a modicum of respect for the girl.
“Goodness,” Jennifer murmured to herself, “am I actually admiring her?”
As if on cue, Joy burst into her infectious laughter, the sound rippling through the crowd. Jennifer felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards. She forced her face into a frown. She didn’t care if everyone else in town was falling under the girl’s spell. She wasn’t going to admire her in any way.
“Enough of this,” she whispered with newfound resolve, setting down her drink. It was time for her to step out of the shadows of doubt and into the light of humility.
“Mrs. Worthington?” Jennifer approached.
Joy turned, her smile not leaving her face. “Mrs. Collins! How lovely to see you. Did you enjoy the caviar? I’ve heard it’s positively divine.” Not that she would try a bite of the nasty stuff herself.
“Actually, I wanted to speak with you,” Jennifer said. She took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology, Joy. I fear I’ve misjudged you quite terribly.”
“Apology?” Joy tilted her head slightly, a lock of brunette curls tumbling over her shoulder. “Whatever for?”
“Your lack of social graces,” Jennifer admitted. “But I see now that it’s not a lack at all—it’s a breath of fresh air in this stifling parlor of pretensions.”
Joy blinked, then her face creased into a warm smile. “Well, thank you, Mrs. Collins. That’s very generous of you to say.”
“Please, call me Jennifer,” she offered, extending a hand not just in greeting but in friendship. “And may I support you in any way possible?”
“Of course, Jennifer.” The handshake was firm. “And I must say, your candor is rather refreshing too.”
“Perhaps we’re more alike than different, hm?” Jennifer ventured.
“Maybe so,” Joy agreed, her eyes full with humor. “Now, tell me, have you ever danced the Massachusetts Stomp?”
Jennifer chuckled, the sound surprising even herself. “I can’t say that I have.”
