A/N: First off, SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I lost my muse there for a little while and she's still a bit far away so I won't promise regular consistent updates quite yet. BUT I do fully intend to finish this fic. I have not forgotten it, and to prove it to you here is part one of the VFW dance!

Happy Reading!

angellwings

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: Change Your Mind

"I know you think that it's wrong,

But he grew on me like a rose,

The sweetest I've ever known.

I swear that he got a hold on me,

And now I can't let him go.

No one ever said it was easy,

And I love him.

You gotta believe me.

No, it don't seem right,

But I'll change your,

Mind, mind."

-"Change Your Mind" by Tori Kelly

Showing up at Lucy's house to pick her up was more nerve wracking than he anticipated. He told her he was going to treat it as much like Homecoming as he could and he thought she would like that, but what if he was wrong? Or what if the first date was a fluke and tonight was the night he screwed it all up?

He had the thin plastic container in one hand behind his back as he knocked on the Preston's front door. He expected Amy like the night before, but what he got was Mrs. Preston.

His suspicions that she didn't like him were very much confirmed by the cool indifference on her face as the door swung open and she motioned him in.

"Lucy's not quite finished getting ready," she informed him flatly. "She'll be down shortly."

She didn't offer him a drink or tell him to make himself at home. She simply walked away. Back to the dining room table where she appeared to be grading papers.

"Thank you, Mrs. Preston," Wyatt said after clearing his throat.

A moment later, Amy galloped down the stairs and pointed a large toothy smile at him.

"You're gonna love this!" She exclaimed as her socked feet came to a skidding stop beside him. "He's here!" She yelled up the staircase. "And he's wearing a tie!"

Wyatt brought a nervous hand to his tie and straightened it, instinctually.

"Relax," Amy whispered to him loudly. "You look okay for a boy."

He let out a snorting chuckle and nodded. "Thanks."

Amy craned her neck backward to take a glimpse at the plastic container behind his back and then turned an approving smirk on him. She didn't mention the corsage, but he knew she saw it.

As if unable to resist the big moment, Carol Preston slowly wandered toward Wyatt and Amy. There was a quick flash of pink at the top of the stairs. It gave him just enough time to prepare himself for whatever Lucy had in store, and then there she was. Standing on the top step with her hand on the railing, looking absolutely stunning.

The dress was a rosy shade of pink and sleeveless with a high neck. It had a sash wrapped multiple times around the waist with an off center bow in the front. The ends of the ribbon sash flowed down the length of the high-low skirt that fell in delicate pleats over her legs. It was understated but absolutely gorgeous. The silky fabric shimmered as she sauntered down the steps toward a slack jawed Wyatt Logan. Her hair was pulled back, loosely, into a low knot while soft flyaway waves framed her face. Her make up was more obvious, but not overly so.

Her lips, though, were a very tempting shade of dark red. The type of shade that would stain his lips the minute he kissed her, leaving an actual mark on him. For some strange reason, the idea of Lucy's lipstick rubbing off on him caused a smirk to form on his lips and heat flood his veins.

She smirked to match him and he knew her thoughts weren't very different from his own. When she reached the bottom of the stairs he shook his head at her in amazement.

"Lucy, you look...gorgeous."

She smiled shyly and then reached out to smooth a hand over his lapel, where he'd pinned his boutonniere. "You don't look so bad yourself, tough guy."

Her eyes left his to find her mother. Carol gave her daughter a small approving smile and a subtle nod before returning to her papers. No picture taking. No gushing. No fond farewells. The tension was palpable between them. Sadness flashed across Lucy's eyes but Wyatt refused to let it take hold.

"I, uh, thought we'd do this right so…" he let his sentence trail off as he pulled the plastic container out from behind his back. As luck would have it, he'd picked a corsage that featured a pink rose and it was the exact color of Lucy's dress.

"Oh, Wyatt," she said as a smile overtook her face again. "It's beautiful."

He opened the container and she carefully removed the corsage. Amy snatched the box from him and pointed to Lucy's wrist.

"Put it on her, dummy," she insisted.

Lucy chuckled and shook her head at her. "Sorry, she's excited."

"Yeah, well, she's not the only one," Wyatt said with a light laugh as she took the corsage back from Lucy. He slid it over her wrist, carefully, and then squeezed her hand. "Perfect."

"Wait, we need a picture," Lucy said as she took her phone out of her small purse and handed it to Amy.

Lucy looped her arm through Wyatt's and prepared for a smiling, average, front facing picture. But he was high on her, he supposed, because at the last second he surged forward and pressed his lips to her cheek. She let out a surprised laugh and leaned into it.

"You probably blurred the photo, you goof," she admonished. Though the beaming smile on her face weakened the scolding.

"No," Amy supplied helpfully as she handed Lucy her phone. "I just held down the button. It took like a gazillion pictures. One of them has to be good."

"You're a smart kid," Wyatt told her with a chuckle.

"Duh," Amy replied with a self confidant shrug. "Have fun, Lucy! Come and find me when you get home! I wanna hear about the old people at the dance."

Lucy mock saluted and winked at her kid sister. "Promise I will. First thing."

Amy disappeared back up the stairs, leaving Wyatt and Lucy alone. He held out his hand and tipped his head toward the front door.

"Ready?"

"To serve refreshments to senior citizens?" She asked with a chuckle as she linked her hand with his. "Absolutely."

Lucy didn't bother saying goodbye to her mother as they left. It felt pointed. Wyatt filed it away to ask her about it after the dance. He didn't want to risk putting a damper on her mood so early in the evening.

They arrived, checked in with the event planner (who turned out to be Principal Christopher's wife, Michelle), and then were put to work setting up. Wyatt was helping put out tables and chairs while Lucy helped finished with the refreshments and decorations. Lucy's attention shifted more than once as the band set up. They were a jazz and swing band. She hummed along with a few songs they used for their soundcheck. Which meant that Lucy's distraction became his distraction. He loved listening to her, even if she was only humming.

"You gonna get up there and sing with 'em, Valedictorian?" He asked, smirking at her as he picked up two more folding chairs.

"Hell no," she answered quickly. "They're at least a hundred steps above our high school's orchestra or a diner karaoke machine. I know my limitations, Logan."

He stopped and propped the chairs against the wall so he could stand beside her and capture her stare with his. "What limitations?" He asked pointedly. "The only limitations you have are the ones you put on yourself. Besides, you've got an audition to prepare for. Might as well start tonight."

She quirked a brow at him and then laced their fingers together. "What limitations?" She repeated with a quirked brow. "Sounds like someone needs to take their own advice."

He shook his head. "No, our situations are not at all similar, Luce. Maybe there is something else out there for me besides the shop but it won't come anything close to what you'll be able to achieve."

"I refuse to believe that," she replied stubbornly. "You're just as limitless as anyone else, Wyatt. I just have to find a way to convince you of it."

"Good luck," he said with a lopsided grin. "I'm pretty hard headed when I want to be."

"I'm aware," she answered with a chuckle.

A throat cleared from somewhere beyond Lucy and they both knew that was the signal to get back to work.

"We're not done talking about this," Lucy called after him while she watched him pick the chairs back up and walk away.

A half hour later the doors for the dance opened and people began to stream in. Veterans and their spouses as well as family and friends of veterans filled the room and took their seats. Wyatt was assigned to man the door and accept tickets and Lucy was in charge of the punch bowl. They were forced to stare at each other from afar for most of the dance. It wasn't exactly what he imagined, but then this was still technically part of his punishment for the fight with Jonas so it shouldn't be everything he imagined it to be. The dance was winding down by the time someone appeared to give him a break — at the same time Michelle took over for Lucy at the punch bowl.

He had almost met Lucy halfway when a cane shot out and nearly wrapped across his ankles. He stopped just short of the collision.

"Morty!" He heard a quavering voice screech from his left. "Watch what you're doing! You almost killed this young man!"

A soft, brittle hand landed on his shoulder and helped him straight up, while it's twin swatted at an elderly man with a hand carved wooden cane.

The man grumbled at his wife before he pointed a calloused thick knuckled finger at Wyatt. "I couldn't have killed him if I tried. Look at him! He's sturdy."

To prove it the old man solidly thumped Wyatt between his shoulder blades. He was pretty damn strong for a man who needed a cane to walk.

"Quit beatin' the child up, you brute!" His wife yelled with a tired sigh.

"He's not a child. When I was his age as I was in the service! He'll be fine. You wanna mother somebody then why don't you call that no good son of yours."

"He's your son too, Morty."

"Not until he gets a job, he ain't."

Wyatt's eyebrows shot up and a small amused grin formed on his lips. Put about 20 more pounds on this man, exchange the sport coat for a pair of suspenders, and Wyatt would swear he was talking to his grandfather. Wyatt's eyes drifted to Lucy. He was in a rush to spend some time with her but at the same time…

He felt an odd sense of comfort around this couple. He wasn't quite ready to walk away from them yet.

Morty caught Wyatt's eyes tracking Lucy from across the room and turned his gaze in the same direction.

The old man whistled low and thumped Wyatt between the shoulders again. Wyatt caught himself before he pitched forward.

"That your girl?" Morty asked with a smirk. "She's a pretty one. She got a name?"

"Lucy," Wyatt answered with a nod.

"Oh that's a lovely name," Morty's wife said as her eyes drifted to Lucy too. "Much better than all those other names you hear these days. Too many Ashleys and Brittanys. Why doesn't anyone use classic names like Lucy anymore? Or Margaret. Margaret's a beautiful name."

"I'm personally fond of the name Dorothy," Morty said as he winked at his wife. "Aren't you, Dottie?"

She chuckled hoarsely and kissed her husband's cheek. "You see, you're not always a gruff bully. Quit acting like it."

He shook his head at his wife with a begrudging smirk before he held out a hand toward Wyatt for a shake. "What's your name, son?"

"Wyatt," he replied.

"Oh! That's another wonderful name! You don't hear a lot of Wyatt nowadays!" Dottie exclaimed in delight.

Wyatt couldn't help but smile warmly at the frail older woman. "My mother was a fan of Wyatt Earp," he explained.

A quiet cough sounded to his right. His head snapped toward the sound and found Lucy standing next to him.

"Are you making friends?" Lucy asked him with a teasing glance and a grin.

"Morty and Dottie Landingham," Morty said as he took Lucy's hand and brought it to his lips. "You must be Lucy."

Amusement sparkled in Lucy's eyes as Morty released her hand. "Yes, I am. It's nice to meet you both."

"Oh, aren't they the cutest pair you've ever seen?" Dottie said enthusiastically as she nudged Morty with her bony elbow. "Remember when we were that young and beautiful?"

Morty's mock outrage was immediately directed at his wife. "What are you talking about? We still are young and beautiful! Keep talking like that, woman, and I'll have to prove it to you."

"Oh, shush, you!" Dottie said with a laugh as she swatted him again. "Don't let this old fool keep you," she insisted. "Go dance. Won't be long before you're as old as we are and you can't anymore."

"I don't know what you mean," Morty huffed. "I can dance."

"You can't even walk proper, you old fool," Dottie said with fond exasperation. "Let's find a seat before you end up clubbing someone with that damn cane."

Dottie shooed Wyatt and Lucy toward the dance floor and then led Morty toward the tables that were already half empty. Lucy chuckled as they watched them go and then threaded her and Wyatt's hands together.

"Well, they were adorable," Lucy told him with a wide smile.

Wyatt nodded and grinned wistfully after them. "They remind me of my grandparents."

He felt Lucy's eyes on him for a lingering moment before she suddenly started pushing through the people milling about, following Dottie and Morty. She kept a tight hold on his hand, preventing him from breaking away from her.

"Wait, Lucy, you didn't—didn't you want to dance?" He asked as he pointed over his shoulder to the dance floor.

"We can dance anytime, Wyatt," she declared. "But we may not always be able to talk to Morty and Dottie. We should take advantage of it while we can."

Lucy found their table and in no time at all they were settling into seats across from the elderly couple. Relief spread across Wyatt's chest. This was exactly what he wanted to do but he was too afraid of disappointing Lucy to ask. Thankfully, she saw straight through him, just as she always seemed to.

"Do you mind if we join you?" Lucy asked.

"No! Not at all!" Dottie assured her. "But wouldn't you kids rather be out there dancing?"

"No," Lucy said with a charming smile. "We're exactly where we want to be. Right, Wyatt?"

He beamed at her and nodded his agreement. "Yes, ma'am, we are."

"Oh!" Dottie said as she reached out and patted Wyatt's cheek. "Morty! Listen to how respectful he is!" She threw a wink at Lucy as she pulled her hand away from Wyatt's cheek. "You be sure to hold onto him now, Lucy."

Lucy blushed bright red and nodded. "I'm certainly going to try."

Wyatt cleared his throat awkwardly. He was pretty sure he was going to be the one working to hold onto her, not the other way around. "Mr. Landingham—"

"Morty, son. Call me Morty."

There were about 13 years of his Grandfather's voice in his head telling him to do anything but call this man Morty. He powered through it, though, his grandmother's instructions on being polite overruling his Grandpa Sherwin for once. "Morty, you mentioned earlier you were in the service?"

"US Army, served in Korea," he said with a nod. "Evacuated out of Hungnam with a hell of a lot of other people."

Lucy gasped and then smiled eagerly. "Christmas Cargo!"

At Wyatt's startled stare she demurred and shrugged.

"That's um...that was the codename for the evacuation."

Wyatt managed to close his mouth and grin crookedly at her. "I know. I just...didn't know if you would have—"

"I like history, Wyatt. You know that. Even military history."

She would never stop amazing him. Never.

"My grandpa was at Hungnam," Wyatt told Morty. "He was injured and sent home before the evacuation but he said it was the coldest he'd ever been in his life."

Morty nodded. "Sometimes I still feel that cold." He shivered for effect. "It was the kinda cold that sunk all the way into your bones. Moved Dottie and me to California as soon as I got back. I'd had enough winter to last me a lifetime. We didn't call it the Frozen Chosin for nothing. It's hard to describe that kind of cold. Let me tell you, there was one night where my buddies and I—"

"Oh, here we go," Dottie said with an exaggerated sigh. "Let me get comfortable. You've done done it now. We're gonna be here for a while."

Lucy and Wyatt laughed as Morty quirked an impatient brow at his wife. "You done?"

"For now," she answered while she arranged herself more comfortably in the folding chair.

"Can I get back to my story?"

"Please, go right on. Don't let me stop you."

The rest of the night was spent listening to Morty talk about close calls and freezing temperatures and of the refugees he managed to help onto a ship. He had story after story and Dottie had sassy quip after sassy quip. She matched him blow for blow. Lucy and Wyatt found themselves in love with the elderly couple by the end of the discussion. Eventually, though, Morty and Dottie called it a night.

Dottie kissed both Lucy and Wyatt on the cheek as she headed for the door and Morty shook both their hands.

"You're such a charming young couple," Dottie gushed as she patted Lucy's cheek, just as she'd patted Wyatt's earlier. "Morty and I weren't much older than the two of you when we met." Dottie took their hands and pressed them together. "You both just stick together, you hear? You do that and you'll be just fine."

"Dottie, teenagers today don't think that far ahead," Morty needled teasingly.

"They aren't your average teenagers, Morty. Not even our own grandchildren sit and listen to us the way these two did," Dottie said as she squeezed their hands. "You don't listen to him. Just cause you're young doesn't mean you don't know what real love is or can't put in the work to keep it. He's just being a curmudgeon."

Morty kissed the top of his wife's head and then handed Wyatt a business card. "I'm retired, but that still has my number on it. You call me before you join up, son. We'll talk more. Get you ready for Basic."

Wyatt froze for a split second and then pocketed the card with a nod. "Uh, right, yes. I'll do that."

Join up? Morty thought he planned to be in the Army?

"You're just the kind of kid the Army needs these days," Morty encouraged. "It ain't just for grunts anymore. They need intelligent guys like you. Career guys, with ambitions. Who want to serve and protect. You'll do just fine."

Lucy's eyes lit up and he knew they would be talking about this later. Morty said something Lucy agreed with and now Wyatt would never be free of the idea. But it was...it was ridiculous, wasn't it? Him in the Army? He wasn't a soldier. Men like Morty and Sherwin were soldiers. Wyatt had a long way to go to be like them.

They waved goodbye to Morty and Dottie and then they were put back to work. It was time to clean up. Disappointment drowned Wyatt. Lucy never got her dance. They'd gotten all dressed up and she still hadn't gotten a dance. Talking to Morty and Dottie had been interesting and he'd enjoyed every second, but had Lucy? Had he selfishly monopolized the night?

Lucy didn't look disappointed. So, why did Wyatt feel disappointed? Could it be that he wanted to dance just as badly as Lucy did? He watched her clear decorations off the tables for a moment and realized that was exactly the problem. He wanted to dance with her - to hold her close.

Maybe he'd missed his chance here. But the night wasn't over yet. They still had dinner once the clean up was over. He'd get at least one dance before he took her home.

Where there's a will, there's a way, right?