A few chuckles ripple through the crowd, exactly as I intended.My shoulders finally relax.I actually pulled it off without completely embarrassing myself.I hand the mic back and return to my seat.Keith leans in.“Good one, man.You did great.”A firm pat on my back, and then he turns back to his dessert.I stare at my plate, grateful for his support.
I don’t get a chance to pick up my fork when a tap on my shoulder startles me.
I turn to find a woman in her seventies standing there, her eyes twinkling with mischief.“It’s tradition, dear.”
“Sorry, what?”My mind races.Please don’t ask what I think you’re asking.
“The first dance,” she explains, extending a delicate but firm hand.“Goes to me.”
I hesitate.“And… who are you?”
She winks.“Floral.I’m as old as the town itself.”
“Nice to meet you, Floral.I’m Adrian.”
She hums in approval.“Very handsome, Adrian.”Then, without warning, she tugs at my arm.“Now, come on.We have a dance to start.”
“I don’t really dance.”I try one last time, but there’s no graceful way out of this without looking like a complete jerk to a sweet old lady.
“Nonsense,” she says as she pulls me to my feet.“I’ll teach you.”
I don’t get a choice when Keith encourages her.She holds on to my arm as she guides me to the town hall, where overhead strands of twinkling lights weave through the beams.The space is both cozy and yet suffocating, a contradiction I can’t shake, much like this entire night.
The band strikes up a song, one I vaguely recognize, and before I know it, I’m following Floral’s confident lead.Her hands are small in mine, her frame light as she guides me with surprising strength.
“So,” she says.“I have a granddaughter.”
Here we go.
“She’s single.A hairdresser.Very pretty.You’re single, right?”
“I am.”
But before I can tell her I’m not interested in being set up, her eyes light up, and she speaks.“Wonderful!You two would look great together.”
“I’m not interested, sorry.”
“What do you think about cougars then?”She winks.
Fuck me…I gotta get out of here.
The song ends, but before I can make a break for it, another woman steps in, taking my hand.
“I’m up next,” she says cheerfully.
Jesus Christ.
Over her shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Amelia, and I freeze.I thought she left.The sight of her startles me.She’s watching, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but I’m sure it’s nothing good.My stomach churns.Is she taking photos or notes?Filing away every interaction to twist into another piece?
I force myself to ignore her, to focus on the next dance, but it’s impossible to shake the intensity of her stare.
By the time the second woman approaches, I’m done.But to avoid offending someone or starting more rumors, I mutter about needing a drink and break away, finding Keith near the hay bale seating.
“You ready to go?”I ask.
A smirk crosses his face.“Why?I thought you were having fun.”
“Yeah, well, why don’t you go out there?”I nod toward the dance floor.“They’d love you.”
