It Had To Be You (8 page)

“Besides, Rosa wants the band to have an active role in the actual ceremony,” I added.

“I think it would be a good idea to go ahead and play a couple of tunes while we’re here today,” Gordy said. “We need to get an idea of the acoustics, and that’s really only possible if we actually play.” He looked around, the worry lines between his brows now deepening. “Though, things will sound a little different when this place is full of people. It’s a shame we can’t test it with a crowd.”

“Maybe you can.” I gave a nod, convinced I could help.

“Oh?” He didn’t look as sure.

If only the fellow knew we had a crowd just next door. Then he would relax.

I smiled and said, “Hold that thought,” then grabbed my cell phone and called Mama. When she answered, I could hear the sound of half a dozen voices behind her.

“Bella? Everything okay?”

“Yes, but I have a favor to ask. Can you bring everyone next door to the reception hall?”

“Right now?” She didn’t sound thrilled with the idea. “Why?”

“I’ll explain when you get here. Just trust me. This won’t take long, but we need everyone. And tell them to bring their dancing shoes and lots of smiles.”

“O-okay.”

As we ended the call, I turned to Gordy and grinned. “At Club Wed, you get what you ask for. You’re about to get a crowd.”

“Primo.”
He gathered his troops, and they began to set up the stage. By the time Mama and the others arrived, the band members were warming up their instruments.

“What’s going on, Bella?” my mother asked, drawing near.

“It’s the band. They want an audience.”

“Ah, I see. Well, that we’ve got!”

A few seconds later, the room was filled with all of the relatives, and Gordy led the band in their first number, something totally upbeat and very swinglike, though I couldn’t place the melody.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Aunts Bertina and Bianca spoke in unison. “Our very own private performance!” They stood with Deanna, clapping their hands to the beat as the swing band took to flight.

A couple dozen measures into the song, Uncle Emilio took Francesca in his arms and began to move her around the dance floor, though his movements were awkward at best. Looked like swing wasn’t exactly his thing. Still, he gave it the old college try. Watching them, I lost track of the difference in their ages. He seemed to come alive again. Like a kid in a candy store. Strange that music would have such an effect.

“Wow,” Mama said after listening for a while. “This band is amazing. One of the best I’ve heard. Where did you find them?”

“Laz found them on the Internet.” I raised my voice to be heard above the horns. “Can you believe it?”

“I guess that just goes to show you, you can find anything— or anyone—on the World Wide Web. Welcome to the twenty-first century!”

I had to laugh at that one, and all the more as she lifted the hem of her jeans and showed off the cowgirl boots she was wearing. I’d accidentally purchased enough boots to outfit a contention of rodeo cowboys a few months ago while planning my first Boot-Scootin’ wedding, and everyone in the family now had at least one pair to remind me of the fact. You really
could
find just about anything on the World Wide Web, even the things you weren’t looking for. I’d purchased the boots on eBay.

The first song ended a few seconds later. Emilio and Francesca finally gave up on their dance and retreated to the opposite side of the dance floor, where they stood arm in arm.

“What do you think of those two?” I leaned in to whisper. Mama’s eyes narrowed. “Well, it’s different. Sometimes …” She shrugged.

“What?”

“Emilio is your father’s brother, and look at how young and pretty his wife is. I just … I don’t know. I feel really old when she’s around.”

“Mama!” I’d never seen my mother as anything less than confident, particularly when it came to her appearance. She was the queen of makeup, after all, and had maintained a youthful figure. So this really threw me.

She shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s true. And did you see her in that negligee?”

“Who didn’t?” I tried to bury the sigh that rose up but found myself unable to.

Mama’s gaze shifted down. “I just wonder sometimes if your pop is sorry that he doesn’t have a pretty, young wife like that. Someone to show off to his friends.”

“I heard that, Imelda.” My father’s voice rang out from behind us. “And in case you’re really wondering, I have the prettiest wife on Galveston Island. I wouldn’t give anyone else a second glance.” He swept her into his arms and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Besides, you look as young as you did the day I married you.”

“It’s the hemorrhoid cream,” she said without missing a beat. “Ever since I started using it, I’ve lost most of the wrinkles around my eyes.”

“Strange,” Sal said, drawing near. “Been using it for years, and it hasn’t done a thing for my wrinkles.”

Mama and I erupted in laughter. Should we explain that she applied it directly to the wrinkles? Nah. Sal would never hear about her tricks of the trade, no matter how effective. Pop snorted too, and that got us all tickled. Before long, the band took to playing again, and we all hit the floor. I had the feeling this was just the first of many dances left to come.

Life is filled with what I like to call “bada-bing, bada-boom” moments. These unexpected surprises always thrill and delight, because they are so, well, unexpected. We experienced a bada-bing, bada-boom moment as Gordy led the band in a jazzed-up version of “I Got Rhythm.” No sooner had his bandmates bellowed out the first few notes on their horns than D.J. and his mother, Earline, arrived at the wedding facility, along with three of my favorite women in the world—Sister Twila, Sister Jolene, and Sister Bonnie Sue. All three “sisters” attended D.J.’s home church in Splendora, and all three had become semi-permanent fixtures in the Rossi home over the past few months.

Now, these three bodacious beauties weren’t really sisters, and they
definitely
weren’t nuns. But in their neck of the woods—the piney woods of Splendora, Texas—every believer went by
brother
or
sister
. I’d learned to love both the terms of endearment and the people themselves. In fact, these women not only epitomized the love of the Lord, they kept me on my toes with their humorous antics. They’d even gone so far as to bail me out of jail during my last wedding fiasco—a total misunderstanding, mind you—so I owed them. And then some.

As soon as Earline and the three sisters entered the reception hall, Mama, Rosa, and I went crazy greeting them.

“What a wonderful surprise!” I gave the women warm hugs.

The ladies responded in kind and then turned to face Gordy and the other musicians. I could see the excitement on the faces of the ladies as they took in the swing band. These three were genuine music lovers. So was Earline, who would serve as pianist for the upcoming wedding. I had a feeling that’s why they’d come—to practice for the big day. Rosa and Laz must’ve set this up.

We managed to talk above the band, though they increased their volume as they went along. Gordy signaled for us to keep talking, probably trying to get a feel for what it would be like on the night of the wedding when the whole room was filled with talkative guests.

Sister Twila, often the ringleader of the trio, turned to Rosa with a smile and hollered out, “We’re so excited about the wedding! Thank you so much for asking us to sing, hon!”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have,” Rosa shouted in response. “You ladies are the best.”

She wasn’t kidding. They’d been quite a hit at the medieval wedding I’d coordinated a couple of months back, drawing rave reviews from both the crowd and a newspaper reporter who happened to be in attendance. In fact, they’d garnered such support that they had been asked to sing at Galveston’s famed “Dickens on the Strand,” a local Christmas event that drew tourists from all over the state. I’d seen a blip in the
Galveston Daily
about their rousing performance just this morning.

Thankfully, Gordy halted the band, and all of the men turned to look at our new guests, some with intrigue on their faces. Who could blame them? The trio of sisters always drew a crowd, especially a male crowd. I couldn’t figure out why none of the sixtysomethings had ever married. Sure, they were all plus-sized—and then some—but I’d never seen such pretty faces or better personalities. And talk about wardrobe! These women added a whole new dimension to the word
sparkle
. Rhinestones and glitter abounded, as did a frequent display of sequins when the situation called for it. Today, however, they were all dressed in slacks and T-shirts that read, Where’s the Beef? I’d have to remember to ask them about the shirts later.

“We’re here to run through our tunes with Earline,” Bonnie Sue said, looking around. “But I see that the band’s here, so maybe they could accompany us.” She looked at the sea of men, and her cheeks flushed pink. Turning back to the other ladies, she whispered, “Will you look at that! I’ve died and gone to swing-band heaven.” She began to fuss with her bouffant hairdo and pulled out a compact to touch up her already-too-pink lipstick. After a moment, she glanced down at her T-shirt and then at Twila with a horrified look on her face. She pointed down at the black-on-white tee and whispered, “I can’t believe you made me wear this! Of all the times to show up underdressed!”

“It’s for a good cause,” Twila said with a nod. She looked at me and explained, “We’re testing out these shirts for the barbecue cook-off in February.” She turned around, and I read the back: Shade Tree Cookers: Splendiferous Barbecue from Splendora, Texas!

It all made sense to me now. They were promoting Bubba’s upcoming barbecue competition. Cute.

“What do you think, Bella?” Twila asked, turning back to face me. “Make you hungry?”

I wasn’t sure I could answer that without laughing, so I just nodded. I did happen to notice, however, that a couple of the older guys in the band looked hungry as they gazed at our three new guests. Only, I had a feeling they weren’t hankerin’ for any barbecue. No, I saw a definite look of interest in the saxophone player’s eyes as he gazed at Jolene. She smiled at him and her face turned red.

Turning back to me, she whispered, “Someone hand me an umbrella! It really is raining men, just like the song says.” Reaching inside her purse, she came out with breath spray, which she used at once.

“I daresay, there are more handsome fellas in this room than we saw on our last cruise, ladies,” Twila said, her eyes bright with excitement. “I like that tall one right there.” She pointed to the saxophone player who’d eyed Jolene.

“I saw him first,” Jolene responded with a pout. “Hands off, Twila. Besides, you’ve already got a boyfriend.”

“You do?” I looked at Twila, stunned. Since when?

With a wave of her hand, Twila dismissed the idea. “Oh, I’ve been seeing Terrell Buell again. You remember him, Bella? You met him at the Fourth of July picnic, I think.”

“Oh, that’s right.” I vaguely remembered the older man with the soft skin and vivacious twinkle in his eyes. If memory served me correctly, he was sweet on Twila back then too, but she had passed off the idea as unrealistic. I had to wonder what had changed, if anything.

“Poor Terrell’s been after me for years,” she explained with a shrug. “Never really spent much time thinking about the possibilities … till lately. There’s something about almost getting swept out to sea that puts a whole new spin on things.”

The Splendora trio had been on a cruise ship a couple months back when a storm hit. The event had rocked them— literally and emotionally. Looked like it had also caused Twila to rethink her love life. Only, today she seemed to have eyes for our band members. Probably not a good thing, with Lilly looking on.

“Tell the truth, hon,” Bonnie Sue said with a nod. “You’re just skittish because of Terrell’s last name. You don’t want to be Twila Buell.”

“That’s a bunch of Buell, Bonnie Sue!” Twila said, then slapped her knee. “Get it? A bunch of ‘bull’?”

Everyone in our circle erupted in laughter. Well, all but Jolene. She sighed and closed her eyes, listening to the band play. “There’s just something about the saxophone that makes me swoon,” she said in a dreamy voice. “It casts a spell on me. I can’t explain it.”

“She’s always been a sucker for the sax,” Twila said. “I had to hold her back on our last cruise. Every time the band would start to play—”

Jolene’s eyes popped open. “Don’t you dare tell that story, Twila. It’s no one’s business. Besides”—her eyes narrowed— “I thought we had an understanding: ‘What happens on the cruise ship stays on the cruise ship.’”

“True, true,” Bonnie Sue said. “We did agree to that, didn’t we.” She began to sway with the rhythm of the music. “Oh dear. Oh dear.”

“What is it?” I asked, looking her way.

“Sorry, Bella, but I just can’t help myself.” Her toes took to tapping, and her face lit into a smile. “Whenever I hear swing music, I just lose all of my inhibitions. I
have
to dance. Do you mind?”

“W-what?” I watched, mesmerized, as she headed to the dance floor and began some rather complicated dance steps. “Bonnie Sue is the swing dance champion of Montgomery County,” Twila said with a nod. “There’s no stopping her when the band starts to play, trust me. She just can’t seem to help herself. But, then again, that’s what dancers do. They dance.”

Who knew?

“I need a partner!” Bonnie Sue turned to my uncle. “Hmm.”

Laz raised his cane as if to ward her off, so she shifted her attention to Emilio. Francesca took a firm hold of her husband’s arm, driving her message home. At this point, a determined Bonnie Sue reached to grab Sal by the hand.

I wish I’d had a video camera in hand as she pulled him to the center of the dance floor. The expression on his face was worth a million bucks. She took him by the hands and began to move back and forth, side to side, in some snazzy swing moves.

“Come on, Sallie!” Gordy called out over the microphone. “You used to be the best dancer in Atlantic City back in the day. Remember all those nights at the Blue Velvet? Show her what you’ve got!”