Page 28 of Trick or Tease

She laughed and I was so tempted to kiss her. “Just follow my lead. And try to relax. You look like you’re about to negotiate a hostile takeover.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

We moved together slowly, and I had to admit it wasn’t terrible. It was more about swaying than any fancy footwork. After a few minutes I started to feel less like I was going to embarrass us both.

“Better,” she said, looking up at me with approval. “See? You just needed to stop thinking so hard.”

“That’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“I noticed.” Her smile was gentle, not mocking. “You always were a serious kid. Even when we were little, you had this intense way of looking at everything, like you were trying to solve some complicated puzzle.”

“Maybe I was.”

“And did you? Solve it, I mean?”

I considered the question as we swayed to the music. Around us, other couples moved with easy familiarity. There were husbands and wives who’d been dancing together for decades, teenagers fumbling through their first slow dance, families celebrating together.

“I thought I had,” I said finally. “But lately I’m not so sure.”

She studied my face with those perceptive blue eyes. For a moment I felt completely transparent. Not like the polished attorney everyone expected me to be, not like the successful city transplant, just me. Garrett Hogan. The kid that held the town record for the biggest largemouth bass for ten years. The feeling was unsettling and oddly comforting at the same time.

I could let down all the guards and settle into my old skin like stepping into a pair of worn jeans.

“Thank you for the rescue,” I said.

“Of course.”

The song ended and a loud piercing noise cut through the room. Mom had the microphone in her hand. Dad stepped up beside her. The feedback died down and the room fell into an expectant quiet.

“Well, I guess we should say a few words before y’all dig in and get too full and drunk,” Dad said.

Laughter rippled through the crowd. I found myself smiling as well.

“Thirty-five years ago, I brought my beautiful bride home to Hogan’s Hill Farm, and every single day since then, this community has been our family. You’ve celebrated our joys, helped us through the tough times, and put up with my terrible jokes at every church potluck.”

“Don’t forget your singing,” someone called out from the back, earning another round of laughter.

“Hey now,” Dad protested with mock indignation. “I’ll have you know I was in the church choir for fifteen years.”

“Exactly!” the voice shot back, and even Dad couldn’t keep a straight face.

Mom leaned into the microphone. “What Tom’s trying to say is thank you. Thank you for making our lives so rich, so full of love and friendship. Raising our boys here, watching them grow up alongside your children, has been the greatest blessing of our lives.”

Sabrina glanced up at my face, but I kept my eyes fixed on the stage.

“Now, we’re about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime,” Dad said. “Next week, we’re loading up our brand-new RV—well, new to us anyway—and we’re finally going to see all those places we’ve been talking about for thirty years.”

“The Grand Canyon!” Mom added excitedly.

“Old Faithful!”

“The world’s largest ball of twine in Kansas!”

“Don’t forget Mount Rushmore,” someone shouted.

“Already on the list.” Mom laughed. “We’ve got seventeen states mapped out and absolutely no schedule to keep. We’re going to drive until we feel like stopping, see everything we’ve always wanted to see, and eat way too much diner food.”

Dad nodded enthusiastically. “And at the end of it all, we’re going to come home and bore every last one of you with our stories and approximately four thousand photographs.”