on their faces. Tess knew that if she sang it would make their wedding the talk of the very limited social season in Ripley County.
Renee said, 'I suspect part of the reason you didn't want to sing was Judy. Now that she's out of the way, what other excuse have you got?'
'You sure it's all right with the band?'
'Are you kidding? What band wouldn't want to say they backed up Tess McPhail?'
'All right. Just one song.'
Renee gave the bride and groom a thumbs-up, and they hugged in jubilation, then Rachel blew Tess a kiss and went to the foot of the stage and spoke to the lead guitarist while he continued to play.
At the next song break the band immediately announced, 'Everyone knows we have a famous Nashville star with us tonight. She's the bride's aunt, and she's agreed to come up and do a song with us. Hey, everybody, let's make her welcome… Tess McPhail!'
The crowd parted for her, and she went up on the stage with a confident stride, cueing the band on the way. 'Can you give me 'Cattin' in G?'
The drummer said, 'You got it, Mac,' and gave them a four-beat cue on the rim of his snare.
When the rhythm broke and she grabbed the mike she took two hundred hearts captive on the spot. They applauded so loudly they drowned out the first twelve bars of the music, then spontaneously resumed dancing, their faces lifted to her all the while.
She gave Wintergreen something to talk about for the next ten years, planting her glittering high heels as far apart as her straight dress would allow, keeping rhythm with her right knee and sending blue jets shooting from her rhinestones. She forgot about Judy and became one with her audience, giving them a performance filled with energy and rhythm. 'Cattin' ' had a rock beat and slightly naughty words. She used her hands and long flashing nails like a sorcerer to put her audience under her spell. She had an innate sense of drama and played the crowd like an actress, using eye contact and a hint of flirtatiousness to make each listener believe she was singing exclusively for her or him.
Suddenly Kenny was below her, dancing with Casey, both of them smiling up at her, having fun.
She pointed at Casey. '… gonna dress in satin…'
And at Kenny. '… gonna go out cattin' with youuuuu.'
She winked and he laughed, then her attention shifted smoothly to others in the crowd. She knew how to make her eyes glitter with promise and how to hold a hand mike so that the men imagined it was they, close to her lips, and the women imagined they were as alluring and confident as Tess McPhail. There were songs she sang to women; this was not one of them, but the women in the audience didn't seem to care. When the song ended they applauded as enthusiastically as the men. Casey stuck her fingers between her teeth and whistled like a cattle drover. Renee yelled, '
'
It pulsed through the room.
Taking her bow, Tess made sure she caught her mother's eye. Mary was applauding proudly from her wheelchair by the dinner table, and Tess felt particularly warmed by the pride she sensed radiating from Mary. Scanning the faces below, she caught impressions of townspeople she'd forgotten-ex-teachers, store owners, Renee's and Judy's friends, long-time neighbors, people from church, everyone still applauding, calling for more. The bride and groom made their way to the foot of the stage, their faces lifted. 'Please do one more, Aunt Tess… please!' Rachel begged.
She sang one more, a slow one for the newly married couple.
'I've never recorded this song,' she announced, 'but I've always loved it, especially at weddings. Rachel and Brent, this one's for you.'
She sang a moving rendition of 'Could I Have This Dance for the Rest of My Life' and watched the swirl of partners gliding past. Renee waltzed by with Jim. The groom had his bride. Packer had one of the bridesmaids. Mindy Alverson Petroski was with her husband, the appliance store owner. And Kenny danced by with Faith.
They'd have kept Tess on the stage even longer, but after the second song she thanked the band, gave a farewell flourish and replaced the mike on the stand.
A dozen people complimented her on her way back to the table, and more came after she got there. Mary was flushed with pride, and said, 'Honey, you sure knocked 'em dead. I don't know where you got a voice like that, but it sure wasn't from me.' People were very kind, coming by one after the other to thank her for singing and to offer the usual platitudes.
Enid Copley and a bunch of Mary's friends came and Mary found herself the center of attention, the mother of the girl who did good.
But a phenomenon happened that sometimes occurred after Tess had sung. Once she'd done so she became such a superstar that the people, fearful of offending her, kept their distance. They came by, said something quickly so they could claim they'd spoken to her, then hustled away, leaving her lonely in the crowd. Casey was in another part of the hall, hanging out with the kids her age. Renee and Jim were having the time of their lives. If Ed were here, she might have danced with him, but he was gone. Nobody was going to ask the famous Tess McPhail to dance, so she was left with Mary, who never lacked for company.
Two teenage girls approached and shyly asked if Tess would sign a paper napkin, which she did. Mrs. Perry, who'd lived across the street when Tess was little, turned from Mary to remind Tess how she had loved the English toffee she used to make at Christmastime, and how Tess had once abashed Mary by knocking on Mrs. Perry's door and asking if she could have some. It was an old story that had been repeated every time she'd run into Mrs. Perry since she was in elementary school. They talked about the Perry kids, where they were now, what they did for a living, then the woman rejoined the older group.
'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.'
