Page 40 of The Cannon
He takes my hand in his as we walk through the crowded kitchen, through the French doors and onto the moonlit dance floor. Sawyer dances me into his embrace. Maybe no one has noticed we just got here. Classic Frank Sinatra sets the stage.
“Fly Me to the Moon” has never sounded so meaningful. The familiar scene never as beautiful. Twinkling lights dot the foliage and outline the house. There’s a golden glow cast over the dancers as they glide over the tiled patio floor under the stars.
Round tables set with white tablecloths, flickering candles and vases of pink peonies speak romance.
The Memphis air is still. Mini lights hanging vertically from the tree branches make every tree look like a Weeping Willow. The July night charms.
My cheek rests against his and I take in the scent of his aftershave. He nestles himself closer somehow, in a move that makes my heart sing. Is it possible I’ve never known real romance before? It has nothing to do with the fact we just got out of bed and everything to do with the nearness of him.
Maybe that’s just the beginning of authentic romance. It feels like this man could teach me the small print. It’s the little things that prove the concept. I never realized that truth.
Over his shoulder, I spot Charlotte and Atticus dancing. She’s watching us and when she sees I’ve spotted her she gives a little wave. Then her hand goes to a phantom braid she knows I was wearing when we parted ways this afternoon. She gives it a tug and her eyebrows knit together in a question. But I see she’s answered it already because she gets this wide smile and knowing look. I’m busted but good. Oh god. Now she’s telling Atticus who turns quickly to check it out himself. I wave away his pointing finger.
Sawyer comes to a stop, breaking my mind’s wandering. When I open my eyes, it’s Grandpa Davis who has tapped my partner on the shoulder.
“Mind if I have a dance with my favorite granddaughter? Grandma and I are about to turn in.”
“Of course not. Just don’t wear her out now. We’ve just arrived,” Sawyer kids.
I take Grandpa’s hand and rest my arm on his shoulder.
“I noticed that,” he says chuckling.
As Sawyer walks off, Grandpa gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“You look happy, little nightingale.”
The change of name surprises me.
“Nightingale? What happened to your Hummingbird?”
“It looks like she flew away. She was always busy fluttering her wings. Hardly ever landing. I think you’re more of a songbird now.”
My grandfather is one of the smartest people I know.
“There’s a chance you may be right, Grandpa.”
“It makes me happy. Sometimes in life we need to just jump in. Take the chance. Not everything has to be sorted out before hand.”
“He’s young though and hasn’t dealt with fame yet. That bothers me.”
His crystal blue eyes lock with mine.
“So what? It sounds like he’s lived well beyond his years. He’s probably older than us both in life lessons. And that’s saying a lot. I’m an old man.”
I bring him close in a hug.
“Grandpa, you’re one of the youngest spirits I’ve ever met. But do me a favor.”
“Anything for you.”
“Please say an extra prayer for me tonight. For my intentions.”
He squeezes my hand. “I will, honey. Tell you what. I’m going to say two.”
Chapter 11
Sawyer
