Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by Molly Cannon

  Mike slapped a towel down on the bar. “If that don’t beat all. You old cuss. It’s Etta, right?”

  “I never said I was in love,” he insisted for what seemed like the fortieth time.

  Arnie forced the subject. “Well then, mister. What would you call it?”

  Donny Joe leaned an elbow on the bar to support himself and tried to put his feelings for Etta into words. “I don’t know. I like her a whole hell of a lot. I’ll admit it. She’s smart and sexy as all get out. And I can get lightheaded sometimes just thinking about her. I lose my train of thought in the middle of doing business because I wonder what she’s doing. I want to talk to her about things that don’t matter and listen to what she has to say about them just because she’s got the prettiest mouth and I want to watch her lips move. And she smells like vanilla and some kind of flower I don’t think has even been invented yet. Oh, and I know she can be kind of prickly at times, but I bet you don’t realize how sweet she can be. The way she takes care of people—”

  Arnie interrupted. “That’s downright poetic, Donny Joe. Makes me think of Lurlene.” He dabbed his eye while reminiscing about his ex-wife.

  “It sounds like the flu to me,” Ray volunteered with a loud laugh. “Don’t kid yourself, buddy. You’re in love.”

  Mike wiped the bar in front of them. “Yep, I’d say it’s one of the worst cases I’ve seen for a while. And I see a lot behind this bar.”

  The front door of Lu Lu’s blew open and the wind from outside howled, blowing big fat flakes of snow into the bar. All the patrons turned as one as Belle Green tumbled inside. She took off her coat and paused in the entry, scanning the crowd. In her white dress, white cowboy boots, and a white cowboy hat, she looked like the winter storm had scooped her up and spit her out inside the bar. Time seemed to stop as all the men got googly-eyed, and the women delivered silent but effective warnings that had their men reeling their eyeballs back in their sockets.

  Arnie sat up straighter as she started in their direction. “I bet she wants to dance with me again.”

  “In your dreams,” Ray declared.

  Donny Joe glared and took another slug from his beer. “She’s probably here to tell me Etta’s not speaking to me anymore.”

  Belle smiled as she approached. “Hello, boys. Care if I pull up a stool and join you?” Everyone in the vicinity except Donny Joe hopped up and offered her their seat. She sat down beside him and said. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and my sister, slugger, but if you don’t want her to go back to Chicago, I’d suggest you get back to the house and make an argument against it.”

  “She’s actually listening to that worm? After what he did to her?” Donny Joe looked like he wanted to hit somebody all over again.

  “I didn’t hear the whole conversation, but I heard enough to know Diego is offering her a controlling interest in Finale’s if she’ll come back.”

  “I can’t believe she would trust anything he says.”

  Ray had been silent long enough. “Donny Joe’s in love with Etta, so he’s mad at the world. I don’t believe we’ve met. The name’s Ray. Ray Odem.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ray. Is that true, Donny Joe?”

  He was tired of denying it. Donny Joe stood up. “What if it is? That bastard is offering the one thing in this world she really wants. Her restaurant. How can I compete with that?”

  Arnie stood up and threw an arm around his shoulder. “I’ve got an idea that’ll knock her socks off. Can you sing or play guitar?”

  “What? No.” He didn’t want any part of Arnie’s crazy scheme.

  “That’s okay. I can play guitar.”

  Ray looked impressed. “I didn’t know you played guitar, Arnie.”

  “I took lessons when Lurlene left me. I thought I might win her back someday, but so far no luck.”

  “Why did you ask if I can sing?” Donny Joe demanded.

  “Because music is the quickest way to a woman’s heart.”

  “Not if I can’t carry a tune. Forget it.”

  The front door opened again and Doug Morton, the guy that drove the snowplow, walked inside, stomping his feet. “Hey Mike, the roads are getting bad out there. I’m just about to hit the main streets, but everyone might want to stay put until I finish.” The town had one snowplow that they shared with three other cities.

  “How long will that take?” Arnie asked.

  “Oh, I’d guess an hour or two.”

  “And you’re leaving now?”

  “Yeah, after I refill my coffee thermos.”

  Arnie turned back to Belle and Donny Joe. “Listen, we can follow behind him when he leaves and be at the Inn in no time. Are you ready to do this?”

  He looked uncertain. “What am I doing?”

  “You’re going to sing. It’s romantic.” Arnie was shrugging into his coat.

  “It feels dumb.”

  “Come on, Donny Joe, you’ve got to grab love by the throat when it comes along. Be a man, not a mouse.”

  Donny Joe stood up and reached for his coat, too. “I do love her.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “I can do this.” He adjusted his cowboy hat until it sat at just the right angle.

  “You bet you can,” Ray agreed.

  “You’re sure it’s romantic?” The three beers were clouding his judgment.

  Arnie threw some money on the bar to pay his tab. “Saddle up, men. It’s time to ride. Man oh man, I’m glad I keep my guitar in my car. I’ve been waiting for a chance like this to come along.”

  Doug hoisted his coffee thermos high in the air and announced to the room. “I’m heading out now.”

  With that signal Arnie and Donny Joe made haste toward the front door. Belle hurried after them. “Wait for me,” she said. “No way I’m missing this.”

  Ray Odem let out a loud, “Yee Haw!” and set out after them.

  Somebody grabbed Ray’s arm as he headed toward the front door. “Ray, what in tarnation is going on?”

  Ray smiled a big toothy grin. “It’s the darnedest thing. But I think Donny Joe Ledbetter is about to go serenade Etta Green.”

  The news traveled around the bar at lightning speed. Ray walked out of Lu Lu’s with the sound of chairs scraping against the wooden floor, people all talking at once, and cowboy boots scurrying out of the door after him.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Etta sat in the parlor reading one of her favorite cookbooks. She’d gone over the events of the day a thousand times in her head. And now her head was swimming. If she wasn’t actually cooking a dish, reading a recipe about preparing one was the next best thing to soothe her frazzled nerves.

  Diego had been put up in the Blueberry Crumble room. The weather meant they were stuck with him at least until morning. Even though it was only early afternoon, he claimed between the traveling and the punch he’d taken to the face from Donny Joe, he could really use a nap before dinner. She was glad to have him out of her hair.

  Beulah said Belle had gone out somewhere. Good Gravy. And in this weather it was just another thing to worry about. Of course Etta had also noticed that Donny Joe’s truck was still not in his driveway. Because she’d checked every five minutes. She wanted to talk to him about Diego and so many other things regarding the future. He would give her straight answers, and she’d come to rely on his opinion.

  She tossed the cookbook on the coffee table and crossed to the window to stare at his empty driveway once more. If she stared out the window long enough she was sure to spot his headlights shining down the road heading for home. And like magic, there they were. Headlights.

  Maybe it wasn’t Donny Joe. Maybe it was Belle. She watched as they drew closer. Ah. It was more than one car. She’d be able to relax once everyone was home for the night. But then she noticed a long line of cars behind the first one. And the first one wasn’t a car, but the town’s snowplow. She expected it to drive on by. When it turned into the driveway, she grabbed her jacket from the hook in th
e entryway and walked out onto the front porch. Outside it was not quite dark yet. The headlights swung in arcs through the gray dusk as they turned until the front drive was filled with the snowplow and at least a dozen cars. They were all flashing their lights and honking their horns like lunatics.

  She clutched her hand to her heart, thinking something awful must have happened to someone she loved to have so many people show up on the doorstep. She put her hand up to shield her eyes and let out a sigh of relief when she saw Belle get out of her car.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” she said as Belle made her way gingerly up the slick, icy steps. “What is going on? Why are all these people here?”

  “It’s Donny Joe,” Belle said.

  Etta felt the blood drain from her face. She clutched the porch railing. “Oh, please, not Donny Joe.” She was dimly aware of other people piling out of cars and trucks and forming a mob in the front yard. Arnie Douglas was standing in front of them strumming a guitar. It finally dawned on her that they were smiling and laughing, all looking at her expectantly. She grabbed Belle’s arm. “What does this have to do with Donny Joe?”

  “You’re about to find out,” Belle said smugly.

  All the noise had drawn the attention of those inside the house. Beulah, Noah, and Daphne came outside just as Donny Joe appeared at the front of the crowd.

  “Etta, I apologize in advance, but here goes nothing.” Arnie started playing in earnest and in a bullfrog of a voice Donny Joe belted out the words. Row, Row, Row your canoe gently across the creek. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, you’d make my life a dream.

  The people behind him all started singing along, and soon they were singing in the round and the harmonies of the simple tune combined and swirled, filling the night with beautiful music. Donny Joe stopped singing and approached the steps. She took a step down to meet him. Her foot slipped, and he caught her before she could fall.

  “The guys at the bar thought a serenade was a good idea under the circumstances, and that’s the only song I knew that Arnie could play.”

  “What are the circumstances, Donny Joe?” She had her hands on his chest for balance, and his heart was drumming out a furious beat of its own.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately. Especially for the Inn. Phase one, phase two, and all the phases after that. And every time I picture them if you aren’t here they don’t mean a thing.”

  “Donny Joe—”

  “Let me finish, okay?”

  The crowd had switched from rowing their boat to “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” and a snowball fight had broken out in the side yard.

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  “I know Diego is here offering to give you back your restaurant—to restore your world to its proper order. And I’d be selfish to ask you to stay here. With me.”

  “With you? What are you asking then?”

  He ducked his head, but then he lifted his chin and looked her straight in the eye. “I love you, Etta. Just let me figure out how to be part of your life. I don’t care if it’s here, or in Chicago, or on the dark side of the moon.”

  Etta ran her fingers over his beautiful face. A minute ago she’d thought something awful had happened to him. The proper order of her world had crashed around her in that instant, and she faced the stark reality that a life without Donny Joe would be nearly unbearable. In that moment she’d known she’d give up everything to have him safely at her side.

  And here he was. Standing in front of her declaring his love. Giving her a chance to belong. To him. To this place. The way she’d always wanted. She didn’t know if it was a miracle, or a second chance, or some kind of winter madness brought on by the storm, but she wasn’t crazy enough to question her good fortune.

  She held her hand in the air and snapped her fingers. “Well, would you look at that? It worked.”

  He shook his head. “What worked?”

  She smiled sweetly. “I snapped my fingers, and the man of my dreams is standing right in front of me. I love you, too, Donny Joe. And I already told Diego to jump in a lake.”

  Donny Joe let out a loud whoop, and then he picked her up and planted a big kiss on her while the crowd laughed and cheered.

  “Way to go, Donny Joe!” Arnie yelled.

  The snowplow driver honked twice on his horn and made a big circle, heading back down the driveway to finish performing his civic duty of clearing the streets for the folks of Everson. Arnie played some kind of fancy tango tune on his guitar while couples danced and dipped under the moonlight. Daphne pulled her mother down the steps and they joined in the dance, calling for Beulah and Noah to join them, too.

  Upstairs a window opened and Diego stuck his head out. “I’m trying to sleep here. Do you mind keeping it down?”

  The only answer was the barrage of snowballs that had him ducking back inside and slamming the window shut.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together to celebrate the marriage of this man and this woman.”

  The pavilion was packed with people. Everson had turned out in record numbers to see these two people joined in matrimony. Some had thought it would never happen, but true love won in the long run.

  Etta looked around at the flower arrangements adorning the front altar. Noah had outdone himself. Daphne made an adorable flower girl, wearing a dress designed to coordinate with Belle’s bridesmaid’s dress. And Irene had proved to be a natural at wedding planning. Her attention to the smallest detail elevated the mundane to the extraordinary. The wooden structure had been transformed into a magical fairyland. Just like Donny Joe had predicted all those months ago. Strings of lights, flickering candles, and paper lanterns cast intriguing shadows and illuminated deep corners.

  And the wedding cake was a masterpiece of culinary design baked by Henry Barron, the newest addition to the Inn’s growing staff. Etta had lured him away from Finale’s without much persuading.

  No doubt about it. The very first wedding held at the Hazelnut Inn proved to be the biggest triumph so far in a long line of triumphs. Grammy Hazel was surely smiling down on them all.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. Noah, you may kiss your bride.”

  Beulah lifted her veil and turned to kiss the only man she’d ever loved. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

  The wedding toasts had been given, the dinner had been served, and the cake had been cut. A live band played ballroom music at the reception at Beulah and Noah’s request. Their first dance as husband and wife was a foxtrot.

  Daphne wandered over to stand beside Donny Joe and Etta. Gabe nestled over one of her shoulders, purring loudly despite the ring of flowers resting on his ears. Studying the bride and groom as they danced Daphne announced, “They make a cute couple, don’t you think?”

  Etta laughed. “I do. I’ve never seen anything as cute.”

  “So is Cousin Beulah my grandmother now?”

  Etta considered the question. “I guess so, since she’s married to your grandfather.”

  Donny Joe grinned. “Wow. Two relatives for the price of one. You’re pretty lucky, Daphne.”

  The little girl laughed and the happy, carefree sound filled Etta’s heart with pure joy.

  “Gabe wants to dance now,” Daphne announced with certainty. “See y’all later.” She scooted Gabe higher up onto her shoulder and twirled away with the old yellow cat in tow.

  As soon as the signal was given for folks to join the bride and groom, Donny Joe held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  Etta nodded, and he swept her out onto the dance floor. He studied her face. “Your eyes are all red and puffy from crying. What is it about women and weddings?”

  “You cried, too. Don’t try to deny it.” Etta nestled herself up close and personal to his chest and let him guide her around to the music. “Are you going to spin me?”

  “Are you trying to lead again?” he asked.

  “No, I just like a little warning sometimes before—yikes!” She yelped as he picked her
up off her feet and whirled around in a circle before placing her back on the ground.

  “Before you spin me.” She was out of breath.

  “So, what’s our first dance going to be?”

  “We dance all the time. What are you talking about?”

  “At our wedding. A two-step or a waltz? What do you think?”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” She stopped dancing.

  “I don’t know. Are you going to get all weepy if I do?”

  She nodded her head. “Yes.”

  He smiled and said, “I have a surprise planned for later.”

  “So, you’re not asking me now?”

  “As soon as Noah and Beulah leave for their honeymoon, I’m whisking you away to someplace private.”

  “What about all the cleanup and the reorganizing?”

  “Irene has hired a ton of people to take care of everything. And Belle will be here to supervise.” Belle had turned into the perfect Inn hostess, freeing Etta to concentrate on the cooking. For the first time in their lives the sisters were working as a team, and as a result they were closer than ever.

  Later when Beulah threw the bouquet Etta wasn’t surprised when it landed in her hands without any effort on her part. As soon as the happy couple drove away, Donny Joe pulled her away and led her to a golf cart.

  “Jump in, shorty. Let’s go for a ride.”

  “Is this part of the surprise? Because I’m not dressed for this kind of thing.” She looked down at her elegant bridesmaid’s dress and her fancy shoes.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t be wearing them for long.” The look he gave her had her climbing into the cart as fast as her fancy shoes could carry her.

  They drove across the back pasture, past the pavilion where the wedding cleanup was underway. They drove through the back gate and down to the edge of the creek where one of the canoes waited. He helped her out of the cart and into the canoe and sat down across from her. “I’d let you handle the oars, but I’d like to get across the creek sometime tonight.”

  They reached the other shore without incident, and he helped her climb out of the canoe. They walked up the slope hand in hand and she gasped when they reached the top. Twinkle lights had been strung around the old cabin, lending it a special glow that hid all its flaws. As they got closer she felt the tension rising from Donny Joe. He opened the door with a flourish and waved her inside. “I hope you like it.”