character.
“That’s what Sully calls good dancing. He thinks Carlton could dance. He’s got to be the worse dancer in America,
Reno!”
“Oh, no,” Reno said as they made their way
toward a still-dancing Sully. “We’ve
got us a nerd who thinks he can dance on our hands!”
“Nerd my butt,” Sully said as he continued his
Carlton dance. “I’m getting my groove
on!”
“What groove?” Reno asked with a smile. “You look like you’re having some affliction
over there!”
Trina bent over laughing and nodded her head in
agreement.
“Okay, okay,” Sully said as he stopped
dancing. He was enjoying this, too. “What you got? What do you, an Italian from Jersey, know
about old school dancing?”
“Are you kidding me? Man, I used to live to get my ass on
somebody’s dance floor every Saturday night. And it wasn’t no ballroom dance floor, either.”
Then Reno placed one hand near his midsection,
lifted one leg, and slid like James Brown. Trina started clapping.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” she yelled.
And as the two men battled it out, each doing
their own versions of electric slides and funky chickens and the running man
dance, the couples on the patio, and soon others from inside the house, began
to gather around.
“The battle of the over-aged teenagers!” Blossom called it, and everybody
laughed. It was a battle, all right, and
Reno, Trina was happy to see, was winning hands down. Sully was almost as gorgeous as her husband,
she’d admit that all day long, too, but Reno had the edge in cool. Reno was super-cool in his moves. Sully came across, just as Reno had said, as
a nerd on the dance floor.
When the caterer announced that dinner was
ready, and the now hungry crowd began to disperse, Reno slapped his hand in
Sully’s hand and the two battlers gave each other a hearty handshake/half-hug.
“You’re all right,” Reno said to his
competitor. Because he
liked Sullivan Chambliss. He
liked him off the bat.
Trina liked him too, as the threesome made
their way toward the grub the others were already heading for. And if this night, their first social event
in their new town, was any indication, she felt good about their prospects for
happiness. Extremely
good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jannie Winthrop hurried into Clauson’s with a
shoulder bag almost as big as her small frame, and her blonde hair almost as
unruly as her excitement. She was on the
city bus, on her way to work, when she found out. As soon as the bus stopped a block from
Clauson’s, she couldn’t get off fast enough. She had to tell the news. She
knew they were going to have a hizzy fit, when she told them the news.
“Good morning, Bark,” she said in her heavy
southern drawl as she scuttled past the bar and banquettes that lined the
restaurant.
“Where in the world are you going in such a
hurry?” Barkley asked the young waitress as he looked up from the beer mug he
was cleaning.
But she was already gone: around the counter,
crisscrossing through another set of banquettes and tables, darting past the
salad bar, until she reached the far back booth where the front-of-house staff
often congregated. Shanell, along with
Mondo and Darla, were already seated back there.
“I looked him up!” Jannie said with unbridled
excitement as she interrupted their conversation and plopped down in the empty
seat next to Darla.
“Well good morning to you, too!” Darla said
snidely as she held her hand up and blew on the fingernails she’d just
polished.
“Good morning,” Jannie said to Darla, and then
turned her attention to Shanell, her supervisor. “I looked him up,” she proclaimed again.
“You looked who up, girl?” Mondo, who sat next
to Shanell, asked her.
“The new owner,” Jannie said as she began
reaching into her oversized shoulder bag. “I borrowed my little brother’s IPad and on the way to
“That’s what Sully calls good dancing. He thinks Carlton could dance. He’s got to be the worse dancer in America,
Reno!”
“Oh, no,” Reno said as they made their way
toward a still-dancing Sully. “We’ve
got us a nerd who thinks he can dance on our hands!”
“Nerd my butt,” Sully said as he continued his
Carlton dance. “I’m getting my groove
on!”
“What groove?” Reno asked with a smile. “You look like you’re having some affliction
over there!”
Trina bent over laughing and nodded her head in
agreement.
“Okay, okay,” Sully said as he stopped
dancing. He was enjoying this, too. “What you got? What do you, an Italian from Jersey, know
about old school dancing?”
“Are you kidding me? Man, I used to live to get my ass on
somebody’s dance floor every Saturday night. And it wasn’t no ballroom dance floor, either.”
Then Reno placed one hand near his midsection,
lifted one leg, and slid like James Brown. Trina started clapping.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” she yelled.
And as the two men battled it out, each doing
their own versions of electric slides and funky chickens and the running man
dance, the couples on the patio, and soon others from inside the house, began
to gather around.
“The battle of the over-aged teenagers!” Blossom called it, and everybody
laughed. It was a battle, all right, and
Reno, Trina was happy to see, was winning hands down. Sully was almost as gorgeous as her husband,
she’d admit that all day long, too, but Reno had the edge in cool. Reno was super-cool in his moves. Sully came across, just as Reno had said, as
a nerd on the dance floor.
When the caterer announced that dinner was
ready, and the now hungry crowd began to disperse, Reno slapped his hand in
Sully’s hand and the two battlers gave each other a hearty handshake/half-hug.
“You’re all right,” Reno said to his
competitor. Because he
liked Sullivan Chambliss. He
liked him off the bat.
Trina liked him too, as the threesome made
their way toward the grub the others were already heading for. And if this night, their first social event
in their new town, was any indication, she felt good about their prospects for
happiness. Extremely
good.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jannie Winthrop hurried into Clauson’s with a
shoulder bag almost as big as her small frame, and her blonde hair almost as
unruly as her excitement. She was on the
city bus, on her way to work, when she found out. As soon as the bus stopped a block from
Clauson’s, she couldn’t get off fast enough. She had to tell the news. She
knew they were going to have a hizzy fit, when she told them the news.
“Good morning, Bark,” she said in her heavy
southern drawl as she scuttled past the bar and banquettes that lined the
restaurant.
“Where in the world are you going in such a
hurry?” Barkley asked the young waitress as he looked up from the beer mug he
was cleaning.
But she was already gone: around the counter,
crisscrossing through another set of banquettes and tables, darting past the
salad bar, until she reached the far back booth where the front-of-house staff
often congregated. Shanell, along with
Mondo and Darla, were already seated back there.
“I looked him up!” Jannie said with unbridled
excitement as she interrupted their conversation and plopped down in the empty
seat next to Darla.
“Well good morning to you, too!” Darla said
snidely as she held her hand up and blew on the fingernails she’d just
polished.
“Good morning,” Jannie said to Darla, and then
turned her attention to Shanell, her supervisor. “I looked him up,” she proclaimed again.
“You looked who up, girl?” Mondo, who sat next
to Shanell, asked her.
“The new owner,” Jannie said as she began
reaching into her oversized shoulder bag. “I borrowed my little brother’s IPad and on the way to
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