As Antonia and Maria continued to compare cooking fiascosand triumphs, Carol noticed that the room had filled with guests and a few couples were already dancing to the peppy music. Realizing how left out Larry seemed, she turned to him. “Did you used to like to dance?”
His eyes opened wide, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes. I dance.” Using the table to balance himself, he started to push himself up from the chair.
“Oh, Larry.” Antonia rested a hand on his arm. “I don’t think—”
“Yes.” He nodded at Carol. “Dance!”
Carol didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t meant to invite him to dance, but he seemed to think that was her intent. “Is it okay?” she quietly asked Antonia.
She chuckled. “Well, it’s up to you, sweetie. I’m not sure he’ll last out there for more than a few steps, but go ahead and give it a try. He’ll probably wear you out just leaning on your arm.”
Larry was already on his feet and reaching for his cane.
Carol linked her arm under his. “Maybe you should leave your cane behind. You can lean on me while we dance,” she told him, hoping that would work.
Antonia nodded her affirmation as she took her husband’s cane, and Carol slowly, very slowly, led Larry to the dance floor, where, to her relief, he managed to move a bit more gracefully than she expected. It wasn’t exactly a dance, but it was close, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Even though she was grateful for her height and strength, and that she was able to offer him some support and keep him balanced, she was still relieved when the song ended with Larry on his feet.
“That was great,” she told him. “How about we have a rest and try it again later?”
He nodded. “Later. Yes.”
She looped her arm through Larry’s again, and they slowly, very slowly, retreated to rejoin Antonia and Maria. About halfway there, Carol noticed an attractive blond near the mainentrance. Looking like a celebrity, the woman removed a fur-trimmed white cape to reveal a sparkling, pale-blue gown. Carol realized it was Victoria ... with Victor. She looked like the cotillion queen, and at her side, Victor was neatly dressed in black jeans, a white shirt and dark plaid vest, and a black bolo tie. Country debonair. Victoria linked arms with him as several well-dressed friends boisterously greeted them. The whole group, compared to her table, seemed full of youth and holiday cheer, obviously ready for a good time. Carol suddenly realized Larry was weaving ever-so-slightly. Worried he was tired, she diverted her attention from the striking couple and their noisy friends in order to navigate her slightly impaired and somewhat elderly partner back to the safety of the table, where Antonia and Maria both watched with wide eyes.
“Larry is a fabulous dancer,” she told the women as she and Antonia helped ease him into a chair.
“I had no idea you could still dance.” Antonia kissed her husband’s cheek, then shook her head in disbelief. “That was wonderful,” she whispered to Carol. “Thank you for asking him.”
Carol didn’t want to correct the misconception that she’d asked Larry to dance. After all, it had turned into a happy mistake. “If Larry wants to try it again after a rest, I’d love to be his partner.” She lowered her voice. “Well, unless you want to dance with—”
“No thank you,” Antonia said emphatically. “The last time we attempted to dance turned disastrous.” Her smile turned sad. “So I’ll warn you, dear, do so at your own risk.”
“Right.” Carol nodded, imagining the sweet old guy splayed across the floor with a room of onlookers gawking while she tried to get him to his feet. Maybe one dance was enough.
13
Carol moved the angle of her folding chair to focus on the people at her table instead of the dance floor. She had no intention of gaping at Victor and Victoria as they worked the room. They were obviously in their element and confident about their place in this crowd. They were probably preparing to dance the night away. More than ever she felt like an outsider, a misfit, and a wallflower. If there was any way to gracefully slip out, she would gladly do so. But how? Claim a headache? Call a taxi to take her home? But then Maria would be stuck with the car. Perhaps Antonia and Larry could give her a ride. The idea was tempting.
She turned to Maria and Antonia, who were engrossed in a conversation about their Christmas Eve plans. And so Carol just excused herself to the little girls’ room, where she entered a stall and pulled out her phone. Not that she had anyone to call. She briefly entertained the idea that a taxi could take her to the airport. But besides it being unlikely any taxi would take her the whole way to Grand Rapids, she knew that would be a selfish plan, not to mention impossible to explain to her aunt. How could she abandon Maria like that? And simply because she was having a bad evening.Grow up, she told herself, reaching to unlatch the stall door. She paused at the sound of voices.
“Oh, Victoria,” a woman said lightly, “you’re too modest. We all agree that your gown is absolutely gorgeous. Perfection.”
“She’s just fishing for compliments,” another woman said a bit wryly.
“Maybe it’s because Victor didn’t even mention my dress when he picked me up.” Victoria sounded truly wounded.
“Well, seriously, Vicki,” a high-pitched voice retorted, “if there was a cotillion queen, the crown would go to you, so get over it.”
“Besides, you know men,” the first one added. “They’re always slow on the uptake when it comes to fashion.”
“Maybe so,” High Voice said, “but Victor sure looks nice tonight.”
“So stop fretting over it,” another said. “Count your blessings.”
The sound of running water muffled Victoria’s response.
“Yeah, he’s quite the catch,” High Voice said. “Just be thankful, girlfriend.”
“But he was so chilly to me tonight. And when I invited him in for drinks when he picked me up, he flat-out refused and said we had to go.”
