Shout-outs: Grumpy Insomniac, devilscherry, AngryLittlePrincess, Jane Doe51, OTHGirl24, MissDonnie and make-mine-a-kiaora

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Chapter 7

Teresa groaned inwardly as she realized her party dress didn't fit her properly anymore. She couldn't quite get the buttons on her midsection. She wiggled out of the dress in dismay and tossed it on her bed as she put her skirt and blouse back on. It was snug but it was still comfortable. She realized with embarrassment that she was going to need to ask Grace to help her with maternity clothes.

Patrick poked his head in the bedroom. "Ready to go?"

Teresa finished buttoning her blouse and pulled on a gray sweater. "Yes. Except, I don't think I want to go."

Patrick frowned. "Why not?"

She motioned to the dress on the bed. "I'm going to be the only one wearing my everyday clothes. I can't get into that stupid dress!"

"Oh Teresa, it's fine!" Patrick hurried to assure her. "Most people haven't purchased a nice dress in years because of the war. So, they'll most likely be wearing their Sunday best and even if they are wearing something a little dressier, it'll be terribly out of fashion. Besides, nobody will be looking at your clothes. Tonight is about raising money for the war effort. So, if anybody makes a comment about the way you're dressed it's on them. Not on you."

Teresa smiled bravely at him as she applied her red lipstick. "You're so sweet to me, Patrick."

I don't deserve you, she thought to herself as she rubbed her lips together and capped her tube of lipstick.

Now where did that come from? She asked herself as she slipped her feet into her Saddle shoes tied them and pulled her socks up a little bit.

"I don't know why you're so worried," Patrick said as they took the stairs together. "You look lovely tonight."

"You always say that."

"It's always true."

Teresa shook her head as she waited for him to close the screen door. "You're just being nice."

"No, you just don't know how lovely you are," Patrick answered, helping her into the truck.

"My father never told me how pretty I was, he said vanity is a sin."

"Well, I don't disagree with him but just because you tell somebody how pretty they are doesn't automatically make you vain and I think you know that."

Teresa looked out the window as he pulled away from the farm and sighed. "You're right."

"You deserve to hear just how lovely you are every single day."

That's what got me into this mess to begin with, Teresa thought but didn't say it aloud because she was still stubbornly keeping secrets from him. Instead she smiled and looked at him. "Thank you," she answered.

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Patrick was right, except for Lorelei Martins, nobody was terribly dressed up for the dance. They'd all come out in their Sunday best and even Lorelei's dress wasn't brand new, the once bright red satin had turned deep red over the past few years of wear.

Grace came over to them when they entered the church social hall and gave them both kisses on the cheek in way of greeting.

"Hello Grace," Teresa said.

"Hey!" Grace answered cheerfully. "I hope you came ready to dance!"

Patrick shook his head as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her a five dollar bill. "About that. . ."

"Oh come on Patrick! You love to dance!" Grace protested. "Why wouldn't you dance tonight?"

Patrick glanced at Teresa. "Well. . ."

"Don't not dance on my account," Teresa said.

"Are you sure?" Patrick asked, still looking at her uncertainly.

"I might even dance with you," Teresa answered, feeling as bold as she had the night she'd first met Walter.

"Really?"

"Why not?" Teresa replied, grinning. "I've never heard that it's sinful to dance with your own husband. Besides I'm already in enough 'trouble' as it is. How much more trouble could I get into?"

Grace looked startled and Patrick laughed. Teresa felt an overwhelming sense of pleasure wash over her, in her short courtship with Walter, she had never been able to make him laugh and there was something about her husband laughing at her joke that felt good.

The live band from one town over started to play and Wayne came to collect his wife for the first dance.

May Minelli came over and gave Patrick her best smile. "Unless you're otherwise engaged, would you mind dancing with me?" she asked. "Lorelei seems to have commandeered my husband."

Patrick looked at Teresa, who nodded encouragingly, and then smiled at May in return as he took her hand. "Actually May, I do believe they're playing our song."

An older gentleman that Teresa hadn't met yet came up to her. "I'm Brett Stiles. The town sheriff, you're the new Mrs. Jane, aren't you?"

"I am," Teresa answered.

"I noticed you aren't dancing," Sheriff Stiles said. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"Yes, of course!" Teresa replied because everybody else was dancing and she wasn't under her father's thumb anymore, it wasn't his business what she did. The only people she had to answer to was God, her husband and maybe Reverend Minelli when she finally joined his congregation.

The song ended and the sheriff brought her back to her husband. Patrick smiled at her as she sat down.

"I thought the only person the Sheriff liked around here was Grace," he said.

"He was just being friendly," Teresa answered as a popular Bing Crosby song from a couple of years ago started to play.

Patrick looked thoughtful for a moment and then held out his hand to Teresa. "How about dancing with your husband?"

"To this song?" Teresa asked.

"Why not?"

Teresa didn't answer, there was no way she could explain why she didn't want to dance with him to this particular song. A song where the singer was asking the person it was written for to be careful with their heart. She didn't want to believe that he'd already given her heart, she knew she certainly couldn't be trusted with such a treasure. Not when she loved somebody else, she was liable to break his.

"I'll dance with you," Teresa said instead, getting to her feet and allowing him to sweep her to the dance floor.

It was the first time he had really touched her since they'd gotten married. He was so tender, like he was afraid she would break if he held her too tightly. She looked up at him and saw he had closed his eyes. She looked away quickly, embarrassed at catching him in such an intimate moment even though it was with her.

With the sound of his heartbeat close to her ear and the way he was holding her so gently, she considered how he was a different man from the one she loved. He had never used a single line on her, he was completely sincere with her.

She found herself wondering what would have happened if she'd met him instead of meeting Walter, if he had been the one she had decided to gift with her heart, with her body. . . her soul.

Would she even be in the predicament she was in? Or would she have waited for another time and place to consummate their relationship? Because maybe just being with him and holding hands would have been enough for her.

Or maybe, she would have still but they would have set up a little yellow house with a white picket fence and a dog.

Kind of like the life she was living now but then, she wouldn't have been exiled to California.

The song ended and Teresa pulled away, ready to sit the next one out but Patrick wouldn't let her go.

There was a part of her, much to her dismay, that didn't really want him to let her go.

TBC. . .

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Author's Note:

I feel like I am coming up with more and more excuses for why I am not posting when I should. But I do have real reasons, it isn't because I am being lazy or being a review Natzi or anything like that. Yesterday's excuse was a dinner party that my mom was hosting for the other people who helped out with my sister's wedding and didn't get gifts. I was busy all day cooking and cleaning for it. So, I apologize for the delay.

Another time jump next week, but nothing too crazy, I don't think.

Until Next Time!

Love,

Holly, 5/16/2015_