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And I also think that maybe he’s onto me. Lawson thinks that I might be his stalker. And I was very careful not to lie to him about that. I didn’t confirm it, but I didn’t outright deny it either. Later, if he replays that conversation, he might realize that.

I start instructing the dance steps, demonstrating them as I speak them out loud. The electric slide is basic, with very few actual steps, and the steps repeat over and over. It should be pretty easy for Brewser to pick up. He’s an intelligent guy, so if we were actually going to line dance, I have no doubt he would be able to figure it out.

“Oh, hold on there,” I hear Lawson as we make the third turn.

I whirl around to find Lawson grabbing Brewser’s elbow to steady him.

“Oops,” Brewser says, giving me a self-deprecating smile. “That crossover caught me that time.”

I nod. “It will take some practice. I guess I’ll need to hang onto you.”

“Or Lawson could keep coming to practice.”

I need to get Brewser alone so I can talk to him about this crazy story. Not just what we’re going to do about this competition we’re supposed to be going to, but these practices that are now supposed to be a regular occurrence.

“Lawson won’t be able to compete with us,” I tell him.

Maybe we’ll just pretend to practice, and we’ll go to New Orleans for lunch on “competition day” so he won’t have to actually figure this out.

But dancing would really be good for him. Even though I’ve only been aware of this whole plan for a few minutes, I’m already thinking about songs and routines and am excited for what this could mean for Brewser.

“I don’t want him falling during practice, though,” Lawson says, a concerned frown on his face.

“Well, of course, not,” I agree. “We could maybe figure out a way to adapt it with a cane. Or a chair?”

“I don’t want to use a cane until I need to,” Brewser says with a frown.

“I know,” I say gently. “I can hang on to you while we practice. Once you get the hang of it, it will be easier.”

Even if we don’t go “perform” anywhere, the dancing definitely will help with his balance and strength.

“Hang onto me?” Brewser asks.

“Sure. Like this.” I move in behind him and put my hands on his waist. “Now do the grapevine.”

He does, but his left leg seems tired, and his foot doesn’t clear the floor. He stumbles slightly. I steady him, but if he pitched forward more abruptly, I wouldn’t have been able to keep him upright.

“Okay,” I say quickly, moving in front of him. “Maybe I should be here.”

Brewser grins at me. “This feels more like just regular dancing, rather than line dancing.”

I give him another you’re-in-trouble look and say, “Well, the competition isn’t only for line dancing.” Hey, if he can make stuff up, so can I. “We could do any kind of dance.”

He gives me a little grin that says he completely reads the looks I’m shooting him accurately. Then he nods. “Maybe we should do a different kind of dance.”

“What are you thinking? Is there something that you like or know really well?”

He seems thoughtful. “Well, it’s a fall-themed dance competition. What’s another fall-type dance?”

I arch both brows. “A fall themed dance?”

He’s really just making things up as he goes here.

“You mean like a hoe down?” Lawson says with a chuckle. “Do you want to square dance? That could be fun.”

“Well, we would need three other couples to square dance with us,” I say.

“Oh, maybe we should get some other people involved,” Brewser says.