Festive music flowed into the street every time the double doors swung open to welcome another guest. Memories of North Carolina, flooded Janelle’s mind. She smiled. Belle was nothing like the home she’d left behind. Except this place – the new hotel was exquisite – every bit ‘The Paradise’ that the name suggested. Lit lanterns hung around the full terrace where comfy chairs and small tables were provided for the star gazers. Black shutters highlighted the windows of the white-washed, two-story hotel, and Bernie felt like a king escorting his queen to a grand event.
As they climbed onto the full-length verandah, she continued to drink the scene into her spirit. Large, colored paper hearts hung from the rafters like waves of love dancing in the evening breeze.
They leaned against the railing. “It’s a beautiful sky, Bernie.” Janelle breathed in the crispness of the frosty air, and Bernie could not take his eyes off her. She became aware of his staring. “You’re not even looking at the full moon.”
“Suppose not. Got sidetracked by another great beauty.”
Janelle blushed and blamed it on the cold air assaulting her face. “We best get inside before we freeze.”
The couple moved toward the doors. “The building looks festive and alive.”
“It’s the community gathered inside that outshine all the splendor a man can build. Belle is a growing town and you should be honored to call it home.”
Janelle caught the proud bounce in his voice. “Sounds like you may enjoy your winter with us after all.”
“I’m hoping for beyond. You know that, right?”
“I had my suspicions.”
Bernie roared laughing. “Janelle Rimes, has anyone ever told you that you’re a tease?”
“Never my intention, sir. Just pining for that dance you promised me.”
They stepped inside the foyer and Janelle gasped. Overhead, a glass chandelier hung, and the glow from its prisms reflected on the walls providing its own light-show. Ahead of them a central stairway wound to the second floor. As they passed the open doors to the drawing room, she saw couples mingling. The room was homey in appearance, the oriental rugs and the rich-costly furniture creating a number of small visiting areas.
Bernie led Janelle to the right and the polished wood floors continued into an oversized dining room. An abundance of crimson hearts, all varying in size and height, hung from the ceiling over the stage where the band played. To the right stood the wide archway that Bernie had helped build, decorated with streams of thin paper and green sprigs taken from evergreen. It had been accurately labelled, The Gateway for Sweethearts, and a young couple passing through stopped for a brief kiss. To the left two lengthy tables stretched out, covered with red tablecloths and filled with finger pastries, meat and heart-shaped sandwiches. Pickles, cheese, fancy breads, and an assortment of drinks sat at the far end. Out on the dance floor, men twirled women in time with an upbeat tune while others munched on a plate of food and talked.
Olivia Stewart came rushing over. “Good evening, Bernie and Janelle.” She stopped for a second as her words registered. “Now don’t those names sound poetic when linked together?” She cleared her throat and grinned. “Don’t mind me. I’m part of the welcoming committee. Follow me.” She led them to a small space under the steps and grinned. “The hotel has a cloak room to hang your winter wear.”
“Thank you, Livvy,” said Bernie as he slid Janelle’s cape from her shoulders. He passed it to the patient woman who appeared to take her job seriously.
“You can put muff, gloves and hat on the shelf, next to your coat hooks for safe keeping.” She grinned. “I am enjoying my job.” Never stopping the flow, Livvy rambled on. “Help yourself to the food – compliments of the hotel - and rest assured, the drinks are not spiked. Need to keep all you cowboys acting like gentlemen tonight.” She noticed newcomers at the door. She wiggled her fingers toward Bernie. “You got some money for me?” He passed her the admission price and she threw the coins into her handbag. “Duty calls. Have fun you two.”
Bernie looked at Janelle. “What will it be first; food or a dance?”
“Would you mind if I said food? I never had time to eat and neither did you for that matter.”
Bernie motioned toward the tables. “A woman after my own heart.”
“My mother always said that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I gather you agree?”
“It helps, but I’d choose you even if you couldn’t boil water without burning it.”
“You’re just a sweet talker, Bernie Drysdale.”
“Not me. Heard it from a good source you didn’t care for those kinds of men. But you do inspire a man to take risks and therefore surrender to the art of groveling.”
After they filled plates with sandwiches, cheese, cakes and tarts, Janelle introduced Bernie to some of the folks gathered close by and the couple spent some time mingling. It felt natural to Bernie to think of he and Janelle as a couple, even though she’d never officially declared it to be true, his heart was smitten.
“The music slowed and Bernie put his plate down. “May I have this dance, Janelle?”
He led her into the center of the floor as the fiddler introduced the tune. The instrument created a dreamy atmosphere and couples crowded the space, each lost in their own aura of love and romance. Bernie pulled Janelle in closer and as their fingers laced, he noticed the absence of the ring on her left hand.
“I see you’ve removed your safety net.” Her brows puckered and he squeezed her left ring finger to emphasize his point. She bit her lip as if torn by loyalties in moving forward.
“It was time.” She nervously changed
