Free A Piggly Wiggly Christmas by Robert Dalby

snickering between bites.
    “I can’t get the part about that rhythm glitch out of my mind,” Powell told her. “I would have given anything to be there, if for no other reason than to show all of you how to do the bossa nova up right!”
    “Yes, I’m sure you could have done just that,” Laurie said, feeling as if he were being too cavalier about the entire business. “Once a ballroom dance instructor, always a ballroom dance instructor.” She didn’t bother to disguise the slight irritation in her voice.
    “Come on, now. You Nitwitts always manage to put yourselves in the damnedest situations, and you know it. Hey, the entire club deliberately chose to waltz down the produce aisle with me at the old Piggly Wiggly. And you all took on the Hokey Pokey at Gaylie Girl’s Labor Day wedding without batting an eyelash. You have to know by now that the Nitwitts hold a special place in my heart. Especially the one I’m gazing fondly at right this instant.”
    Laurie swallowed a bite of her stuffed pepper and then gave him a flirtatious glance. “Okay, okay. I’m a sucker for sweet talk. It’s just that there’s something I haven’t told you yet. I was the unanimous choice of the girls to come up with another of my brainstorms to keep Lady Roth out of our hair, and I’m afraid I might be running dry.”
    “What’s the dear ossified thing up to now?”
    Laurie took a sip of wine for courage and began explaining Lady Roth’s ongoing tiff with Lawton Bead. “Bottom line here is that she sings even worse than she dances, and we all remember what a ham she was hoofing it at the Piggly Wiggly last summer. But this is supposed to be Christmas, not Halloween or the Miss Delta Floozie Contest. Mr. Bead assures us that the second she opens up her mouth, people will run out of The Square as fast as their legs will carry them. And then some.”
    Powell looked amused at first. Then he sat back in his chair, briefly thinking things over while stretching his long legs under the table. “I can’t imagine you running dry of ideas. It would be totally out of character.”
    Laurie looked sheepish, averting her eyes. “There are only so many times a thirsty person can go to the well. Besides, I told all the girls you’d be happy to help me come up with something brilliant. You know—two heads, et cetera.”
    “I think you ladies are going to have to admit your first male member if this keeps up. Seems I’m in on everything eventually, whether I want to be or not. I’m already working with Renza, Denver Lee, and Myrtis on the publicity campaign, as you know, and now this.”
    He paused to take a healthy swig of his wine. “Oh, I meant to tell you—we’ve just received a commitment from WHBQ in Memphis to bring a crew down and cover the event on Christmas Eve. Got the e-mail just before you got home. We’re going to get that helpful television coverage again, just like we did for all the waltzing at the Piggly Wiggly.”
    Laurie brought her hands together prayerfully and rested them under her chin. “That’s wonderful news. Have you told Gaylie Girl yet? She’ll be thrilled to pieces, of course.”
    “I thought I’d let you do the honors.”
    “You lovely man—letting me be the bearer of such good tidings. Are you sure you really want to be a Nitwitt, though? I think you may be missing the all-important gossip gene.”
    He threw back his head and laughed. “Among other things. For now, just let me kibitz brilliantly on the side and lead the occasional Nitwitt around the dance floor.”
    On that note, they opted for a prolonged session of brainstorming, eating the rest of their food largely in silence. They were almost like a couple of cows chewing their cud. Every once in a while, there were barely audible grunts in place or the customary soft lowing. For all intents and purposes, however, they appeared to be stymied. They could tell just by exchanging frustrated glances that nothing remotely suitable was coming