"Mom, you let me know when you're ready to go home," Tess said.

"Pretty soon," Mary replied, but she and Enid Copley and Mrs. Perry and the others were still deep in conversation.

One song ended, another began, and Kenny came off the dance floor alone, snagged the chair next to Tess and dropped onto it, facing her. He looked warm from dancing. His suit coat hung open and he had loosened his tie and freed his collar button. He reached for his glass, took a drink, propped an elbow on the table and said, "Great wedding."

"You look like you're having fun."

"I am."

"Where did you leave Faith?"

"Dancing with her brother-in-law. How come you're not dancing?"

"Nobody asked me."

He glanced around, let his eyes return to her, and said, "Well, we can't have that, can we? Would you like to dance?"

"I'd love it."

He took her hand and walked her onto the dance floor. The band was playing "The Chair" as she swung lightly into his arms in the traditional waltz pose.

"Thanks for rescuing me," she said at his ear.

"What's wrong with the guys around here anyway?"

"They get a little spooked by me. Happens all the time. You're a good dancer."

"Thanks. So are you. And a helluva terrific singer. They all loved you."

"Thanks. I was watching you with Casey from the stage. It's nice to see a father and daughter having fun like that."

"I'm going to miss her when she goes to Nashville."

"I know you will."

"But, Lord, Tess, you've made her so happy. You know that, don't you?" He leaned back so he could see her face.

"Makes me happy, too.'"

"Thanks for all you're doing for her."

"That's got to be hard for you to say."

"It's one of those stepping-stones a parent faces. Maybe I've grown up a little bit since you came home."

They spent some pleasurable moments gazing at close range, flirting silently in plain sight of two hundred people. When it became too obvious, he tightened his arm till their bodies brushed, and her temple rested against his jaw. She recognized the smell of his cologne coming off his warm skin and thought about Renee's admonition to stay away from him. But it felt right, shuffling around the rim of the dimly lit floor in his arms. She had few opportunities to dance anymore. Ironically, creating the music to which others danced robbed her of the chance to enjoy it this way.

"I have something to thank you for, too," she told him. "What you said to my mother when you came to the door to get her this afternoon. I'd told her the same thing, but coming from a man, it meant more."

He glanced Mary's way through the crowd. "She does look great, doesn't she?"

"See? That's what I mean-your response was so genuine that it lit her up like a Christmas tree. She's seventy-four years old, and her hips have been replaced and her face is getting jowly and her hair is getting thin, but when you came to the door and caught your breath you made her feel beautiful."

"Actually, I think you did that, with the makeup and the hair and the jewelry. Those earrings are pretty special, Tess."

"So's my momma."

He cinched her tighter around the waist as if to say, I'm glad you know that at last, and executed a neat turn. She stayed right with him, cushioned by his legs and midsection, and they began to feel the particular exhilaration of two dancers who are equal to one another and enjoying the physical contact.

"Hey, Kenny?" she said just below his ear.

"Hm?"

"I thought you used to be the clumsiest klutz in the whole school. What happened?"

He laughed and smiled against her hair. "Keep up that smooth talk and I just might let you have your way with me."

He had wrapped her up so tightly that she'd have known if he had a nickel in his pocket.

"Did we ever dance in high school?" she asked.

"I don't think so. You'd never have let me get this close to you."

"Mm… too bad," she murmured.

He leaned back to see her face. They got reckless and let their eyes and smiles say a lot, and the conjunction of their bodies say the rest. A woman knows when her dance partner is thinking about more than dancing, and a man knows when her thoughts are taking the same track. Kenny and Tess both knew.

"Would those be moons on your ears?" he asked, grinning, as the diamonds scattered light onto his shoulders.

"Yes, but they're not full."

"I think I've discovered something," he told her.

"What's that?"

"It takes much less than a full moon to make people do crazy things." He moved close again and started humming with the music. She smiled, enjoying the novelty.

"Feature that, would you… a man singing to me."

"I'm probably the one man you know who isn't intim-idated by your success. If I feel like singing I'm going to sing."

"Me, too."

They finished the dance singing in each other's ears, keeping up the surface playfulness to make light of the all-too-remarkable enjoyment of the contact down below.

When the song ended they separated immediately, knowing people around them were probably gawking. They always gawked at Mac McPhail. She turned as if to lead the way off the floor, but he caught her hand and said, "Stay, Tess… one more."

She didn't bother saying yes, only moved up close to his side, hiding their joined hands until the next song started.

The tempo changed. The band played George Strait's "Adalida" and Tess and Kenny smiled and laughed a lot in celebration of how well they did together.

Once she yelled, above the music, "I'm having so much fun!"

He yelled back, "So am I!"

When the song ended they were flushed and hot, returning to Mary's table.

"Well, you two look like you've done that before."

"Not together," Tess said.

Enid Copley and the rest of the bunch were gone. Mary's wineglass was empty and her small purse was resting on her lap. "I know it's early, but I'm afraid I've got to go home, Tess. I sure hate to take you away from the dance, but you can come back, can't you?"

"Of course I can. I'll take you right away."

Kenny said, "I'll come along and help."

Tess carefully refrained from looking at him, but she knew he had more than one reason for offering. Lovers will find a way. They had found theirs.

"Oh, thank you, Kenny," Mary was saying. "That would be nice. She's got that beautiful dress on and this darn contraption is so heavy." She meant the wheelchair.

"Just let me tell Faith I'm going, okay? Be right back."

Tess wheeled Mary near the exit and they waited while Kenny found Faith. Faith looked over and waved good night to Mary and Tess. A moment later he joined them and took charge of pushing Mary outside. When she and the wheelchair were tucked into her Ford, Kenny asked, "Would you like me to drive?"

"Actually, yes," Tess said, and gave him the keys. "I've had a little more to drink than I probably should have. If I got stopped and the tabloids picked it up… well, you know."

It took fifteen minutes to drive back to town, and another fifteen for Tess to help Mary get settled into bed. While she did, Kenny waited in the kitchen, familiar with the house and comfortable in the dusky room lit by only one small pin-up lamp near the kitchen stove. He listened to the women's voices, drank a glass of water at the sink, sat down in the shadows at the kitchen table and waited patiently for Tess and the encounter they'd been anticipating all day. Ever since he'd seen her in that blue dress in the alley he'd known it would happen, that they'd somehow find the private moment that would allow it.

She entered the kitchen and he rose from his chair and spoke quietly. "Get her all settled down?"

"Yes."

Mary called from the bedroom, "Good night, Kenny! Thanks for helping out!"

"Good night, Mary," he called back.

He looked down at Tess and they thought about returning to the dance. Thought about what they really wanted to do. His tie was rolled up in his pocket, his top two shirt buttons were open as they stood close, wondering who'd make the first move, certain by now it would be made.

"Want that light out?" he asked.

"No, leave it on for me later."

He stepped back and let her lead the way outside. The backyard was dark. Even Kenny's backyard was dark. They had left in broad daylight and nobody had thought to turn on the outside lights. Tess preceded him down the back steps, one hand riding the cool metal handrail, her high heels tapping out an unhurried beat. His footsteps, more blunt, followed along the narrow sidewalk until they were halfway to the alley.

"Tess, wait," he said, and snagged her arm.

The single, willful touch was all the invitation she needed. She swung about, swift and sure of what she wanted, and wrapped around him like a flag around a standard. He, too, knew what he wanted, and his arms were waiting to haul her flush against him, his lips were waiting to claim hers. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk and let the dark yard hide them while they gave their open mouths to each other. Since midafternoon they'd known this would happen; suppressing their attraction at every encounter through the long, long evening had only fueled the tinder. They stood foursquare against each other, one of his shiny black shoes planted between her glittering blue ones. She was shorter and when he bent to her, her hand went to his head, holding him while they kissed and kissed, with neither of them denying the other anything, least of all the admission that lust had come a-calling sometime since he'd pulled her around to face him.

What they had imagined, they brought to life. Her head nestled against his shoulder and his arms crossed her back while the kiss continued as if the wedding dance and all those left behind did not exist. Their lips got wet and their breath got short and the back of her dress got twisted beneath his hands.