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Contents ( 66)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Valerie Fraser Luesse
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright Page
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. Map of Florida
  8. one
  9. two
  10. three
  11. four
  12. five
  13. six
  14. seven
  15. eight
  16. nine
  17. ten
  18. eleven
  19. twelve
  20. thirteen
  21. fourteen
  22. fifteen
  23. sixteen
  24. seventeen
  25. eighteen
  26. nineteen
  27. twenty
  28. twenty-one
  29. twenty-two
  30. twenty-three
  31. twenty-four
  32. twenty-five
  33. twenty-six
  34. twenty-seven
  35. twenty-eight
  36. twenty-nine
  37. thirty
  38. thirty-one
  39. thirty-two
  40. thirty-three
  41. thirty-four
  42. thirty-five
  43. thirty-six
  44. thirty-seven
  45. thirty-eight
  46. thirty-nine
  47. forty
  48. forty-one
  49. forty-two
  50. forty-three
  51. forty-four
  52. forty-five
  53. forty-six
  54. forty-seven
  55. forty-eight
  56. forty-nine
  57. fifty
  58. fifty-one
  59. Epilogue
  60. Keep Reading for a Preview of Valerie Luesse’s Next Book!
  61. Prologue
  62. one
  63. Acknowledgments
  64. About the Author
  65. Back Ads
  66. Back Cover

“I’m not kiddin’ about cleanin’ up,” she was saying. “You get in that tub, and then I want you to put on your dress pants and a nice shirt.”

He frowned at her. “What for?”

“Because Finn twisted his ankle when he got home from the marina and can’t dance with me at the VFW tonight. You’ve got to stand in for him.”

“Me? On the dance floor? Oh, no. You’re not makin’ me dance in front o’ the whole bloomin’ town.”

“Don’t be a twit about it. They didn’t have a dance last week because the roof leaked and soaked the floor, and now Finn’s outta commission. I am not missing two Saturday night dances in a row just because the men in my life won’t cooperate. Get moving.”

Peyton offered one last desperate protest. “Aunt Gert, I know the waltz and the fox-trot, which is all they taught us in Miss Helen’s cotillion class. I doubt they do much waltzin’ at the VFW.”

“Now, listen here.” Aunt Gert put her hands on her hips. “You’re lookin’ at the best dancer in this whole burg, and I can teach anybody. I’ve never missed a Saturday night at the VFW, and I don’t intend to start now. Get a move on!”

Peyton groaned and rolled his eyes as he cleaned his brushes. He knew it was futile to argue with her. He’d just have to accept the fact that he was about to make a total fool of himself in front of the whole town. His mother would call it a “stars-in-your-crown opportunity.”

By the time he cleaned up, Aunt Gert had fixed them a supper of jerk chicken with rice and plantains—she said she learned to cook Jamaican food when her late husband was stationed in the Keys and sometimes had a yen for it. Leaving the dishes to soak in the sink, she took off her apron, ready for the dance.

Peyton eyed his aunt’s ensemble. She was wearing a bright blue dress with a full skirt, low heels, and a string of pearls. “You look real nice, Aunt Gert,” he said with a grin. “Sure you’re not, you know, goin’ fishin’?”

“Oh, hush!” she said as they made their way outside. “I’ll tell you like I told Finn—I got no time for that nonsense. But I do like to let the other old ladies in town know that it’s my choice to be on my own. I’ve still got it goin’ on. Now, move it!”

Peyton had never set foot in a VFW hall before. The one in St. Augustine was about a ten-minute walk from Aunt Gert’s house, and the parking lot was working alive when they got there, with cars, trucks, scooters, and people coming and going in and out of the hall. “In the Mood” was wafting through a screen door at the main entrance.

“They’ve got a real band?” Peyton asked.

“The real deal,” Aunt Gert answered. “They’re called Alejandro y Los Nuevos.”