Special thanks to volunteer editor HeyAll for their invaluable assistance in the completion of this story.
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It's so nice to have friends.
That's what my wife Julie and I said to each other after we moved to our new city and were in search of some new ones. Not that there was anything missing from our relationship. Far from it! After three years we still can hardly keep our hands off each other. She is my partner in crime and my great joy in life. I have been made to understand that she feels the same way about me. But it's just not healthy to live in a bubble built for two. Everyone needs a larger social circle to run in; a support network, if you'll hold still for the modern jargon. I'm not complaining about where the search has taken us, in any way. I'm just, I guess, really surprised that we got here.
Let me back up.
We had moved into our new apartment and started our new jobs. Everything was going smoothly except that we didn't know a soul in this place. Work friends were just that...work. We needed to get out of the house in the evening too.
So we signed up for Latin dance lessons. We loved the music, loved to dance. This would be something new. If you've ever taken one of these social dance classes, which are everywhere, you know what a delight they can be. Most consist of around twenty people, some couples and some singles, equal numbers of men and women carefully regulated during the signup process. Once you have been shown the steps, you practice, and rotate partners constantly. It's like speed dating, but more physical. One after another, a different woman would take hold of my arms and we would move together. All kinds of women, different ages, different body types, all happy to be there and to be dancing with me, just as I was happy to be dancing with them. And when it was time to change partners, we would thank each other for the dance. As the instructors were fond of saying, "Tell them, 'It's been a little slice of heaven.'" Julie was experiencing the same thing with the men in the class. When the rotation brought us together again, it was like coming home.
We were doing the Meringue that night when she came to me and we quickly introduced ourselves. She was named Marla. She lacked only about an inch of my height, had straight dark hair to her shoulders, brown eyes, high cheekbones, and luscious lips. The top of her dress was a tight fit over bountiful breasts. Something of a contrast with Julie, who is blonde with blue eyes and several inches shorter. The thing that most impressed me, though, was that she was a great dancer. She moved through the steps gracefully and easily, and recovered from a false move that I made at one point so smoothly that it was almost invisible. When the music stopped she thanked me in a melodious voice that conveyed real enjoyment. I thanked her with the same enthusiasm.
Marla had come as a couple with a tall, lean guy also with dark hair. I caught sight of him from time to time and noticed that he was also quite talented on the floor. When the class was done for the evening I got back with Julie and we got caught up.
"That couple over there is pretty good," I told her, motioning discreetly toward them. "I know she is, it looked like he is too."
"Oh yeah, he is," she said. "They must be quick studies. His name is Jim, I think."
"She is Marla. Why don't we go talk to them?"
We both glanced over at them for a few moments, trying to make a decision.
"Sure, why not?" she said at last. We walked over to them leisurely. They were changing shoes. They spied us coming and looked up.
"Hi, you two are really good! Are you really beginners?" Julie said to them.
"At Latin we are." Jim replied. "We've been doing swing for a while and wanted to try something new."
"You sure picked it up fast," I said. "Marla, you really saved me that one time. Oh, and this is my wife, Julie."
"Pleased to meet you, Julie. And, uh, Bill, isn't it?" I nodded. "This is my husband, Jim."
"Good to meet you, Jim." We shook hands. He, like Marla, had brown eyes, his with a piercing look to them. But his other features were relaxed and he had an easy smile. The kind of guy, I judged, who could have his choice of women.
"So, are the two of you new to dance?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, this is our first class," I replied. "We just moved here a month ago and needed something to do with our evenings."
"Well, this is a good choice," he said, grinning. "The most fun you can have with your clothes on, I always say."
Julie giggled. She always makes me want to find a bedroom to drag her into when she does that. "We did have lots of fun tonight," she said.
Jim went on, "Say, since you're new in town, you'd probably like to have someone to explore the place with. We know lots of good sights to see, good restaurants and things that not everyone knows about. Why don't we get together one of these days and tour around?"
Marla chimed in, "Yeah, that would be great! Here, let me give you a number." She reached for her purse.
"We'd be delighted," I said.
"Yes, we would," Julie added. "That sounds like a wonderful time."
Marla produced a slip of paper and a pen, quickly wrote a number on it, and handed it to me. "There you go. That's my phone. Call us soon, won't you?"
"We certainly will," I replied. "Very nice meeting you both. We'll see you soon!"
We shook hands again all around. Marla's hand was warm and soft.
"Have a good night!" Julie called as we separated.
Julie called Marla two days later. I listened to her end of the conversation.
"Hi, Marla? This is Julie, from dance class—"
...
"Oh sure, we'd love to! That's what I was calling about. Saturday's fine, isn't it hon?"
I nodded.
...
"OK, we'll be here. Ready? We're at 542 Broad Street. Apartment 201."
