Page 34 of The Book of Summer

As Sam leaned in to kiss her again, Ruby beamed. God, she was happy. So deliriously happy.

Oh, the night had the potential to end badly, it did. In two hours Sam might be passed out on the marital bed, or making sick in Mother’s roses. But Ruby loved him even more when he was like this, filled with light, not ruminating on battleships or gas masks or that awful Hitler and his bombing planes. This Sam reminded her of the one she’d known since she was a girl.

“Come, my love,” he said, boosting Ruby to her feet. “Let’s take those hooves for a spin.”

“Saaaam…” Ruby said, protesting a little.

Her knees ached, her ankles keened. That iron lawn furniture was no joke and she’d moved it all herself. But Ruby followed him nonetheless. Sam was the most splendid dancer. Whenever his shoes began to bop, the room split in two. Everyone wanted to watch him move.

“Long day, my darling?” he asked, detecting the crackle in her ankles as he spun her about the floor.

“The longest. I think the furniture reproduced while we were away. There are more pieces than ever. And the plumber was three hours late to turn on the water! All the while, Mother barked orders and Mary didn’t lift a single craggy talon.”

Sam tipped his head back and laughed.

“Oh Mary,” he said. “Good old Talons Magee. Well, now, what can you expect from Mrs. Philip E. Young, Junior? She’s gestating a future scion of industry in that steel belly of hers. And steel never bends.”

Sam twirled Ruby once beneath his arm, and then again. She was dizzy from the dancing, and the champagne, and the attentions of her very own Cary Grant. Lord, was Sam ever a dreamboat. When you’d known someone most of your life, it was easy to forget.

“Well, Mrs. Packard,” Sam said after sending her toward the floor in a most beguiling dip. “Sounds like you’ve worked the feathers right off your tail. But here you are, dancing with me. And you’ve cleaned up rather well, it should be noted.”

“Oh I try,” she said. “All for my special man.”

He gave her a few more whirls and Ruby’s insides soared straight to the heavens. Soon the band changed its tempo, “God Bless America” on the docket. Ruby checked the clock on the far wall. Dang it all to hell. The party was about to end.

As if reading her thoughts, Sam frowned. But when Ruby looked over her shoulder she realized it was not the clock causing him to glower but her brother, marching straight at them.

“Hello, lovebirds,” Topper said, affecting a drawl. “Mind if I have this dance?”

“I’m grateful for the offer, but you should dance with your sister,” Sam said.

“A real cut-up, this guy.” Topper offered Ruby his arm. “Shall we?”

“Do you mind?” Ruby asked her husband.

“Of course not. Dance on, you two.”

Sam made a circular motion with his hand and Ruby smiled in thanks. Perhaps the chilliness she saw between the men was squarely in her mind.

“You kids have a nice trot,” Sam said. “I’ll be enjoying a smoke near the valet.”

Though he smiled, Ruby noticed that his eyes seemed lost. The brewing of his inner jingoism, no doubt. Ruby watched as he walked off, singing along to the band.

Stand beside her, and guide her, through the night with a light from above.

“What’s the matter, little sis?” Topper said, and placed a hand at the small of her back. “Blue to be with second place? Listen, I’m no Ducky Shincracker like your boy Packard, but I can cut a rug or two.”

“So you claim,” Ruby answered, casting eyeballs about the room.

She watched Sam brush against a potted palm and then slide through the door.

“You seem to be having a lovely night,” Topper said, gently leading her to the beat. “At least until I showed up.”

“It’s been wonderful,” Ruby said. “Before and now. We’re having a blast. Sam is in a great mood. It’s fab to see.”

Topper cocked an eyebrow.

“Sam’s in a great mood. As opposed to…?”