He held her hand in his; she was reminded of a song where the spaces in between his fingers were perfectly filled with hers. It seemed to be true in their case too. Sometimes she, when he was near and it was still, would just sit and memorize every part of who she knew him to be. When he discovered her eyes on him, he would smile with a knowing smile. He wouldn’t look away though from his book or article, and she continued on with her gaze, encouraged by the wrinkles that lit up his eyes with his amusement of her.
I said yes, when my friend asked me if I wanted to go dancing at a downtown café in Denver. My friend assured me that there were lessons before hand, and you didn’t need a partner. I grew up listening to the greats, Count Basie, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, and Benny Goodman. But, until the night that I went dancing with my friend, I hadn’t fully appreciated what I loved listening too so much. The cover charge was seven dollars, and that included an hour of east cost swing lessons, and a live big band performance following, where I practiced what I had just learned in the lesson. It was a welcoming community of people those dancers. I met a few men that had been dancing for years, and said how exited they were that the young people were starting to really dance again. One gentleman in particular named Max, who, I noted, could kick his legs up higher than I could, and never seemed to tire. He danced every dance, and on that first n...
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