Author's Note: In keeping with my tradition, the title of this work comes from a song, this time by Dion. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave a comment. Please remember to give your rating of the story as it is the only pay any of the authors get here.
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My neighbor's daughter was getting married and I felt obligated to attend since I had known her since the day she was born. I might have considered avoiding the five hour drive to the site of the wedding but my son was out of town on a work assignment and my daughter was off with her family at her son's travel team soccer tournament. That left it to me to represent the family at the occasion. Not that I minded terribly, but the distance meant that I would have to stay overnight, which in turn necessitated arranging for a dog sitter, and that in turn meant I had to give the house a thorough cleaning. Which is something I'm not very good at. A week of vacuuming, dusting and straightening made the house presentable enough for me to be able to feel comfortable leaving the house and the dog to the charge of my friend Sue.
During the drive, I reminisced about watching Barbara, the bride, grow into a very attractive woman. She's about five foot five inches tall with a dancers body, the result of fifteen years of dance lessons. She had wanted a career in dance, but realized that she, although quite good, was never going to be elite. Instead, she majored in speech pathology at college and was now doing quite well. I thought about when my late wife stayed with her at their house when both her brothers were born, going to dance recitals when she was in grade school, providing cover when mom or dad suspected she was involved in some juvenile mischief, and helping to provide some comfort when her dad died suddenly of a heart attack the previous fall. Her future husband, Robert, had been her high school sweetheart and even though they broke up for a time during college, they reconnected and seemed to be very much in love.
The reception was going to be held at an upscale resort hotel which had an outdoor area, separate from the pool, for private functions such as this. I had booked a room at the hotel since I figured if I was away for the night without responsibilities, driving to another hotel (or anywhere) might not be the best idea. After checking in, I grabbed a quick shower, changed into tan slacks, a pale blue shirt with a Jerry Garcia tie and a blue sports coat. After checking my reflection in the mirror and deciding that I didn't look too bad (...for an old guy), I drove to the church for the nuptials. The service was quite nice. Barbara looked lovely and the minister was a good speaker and not a boring monotone like some I've heard. After the service, everyone headed back to the hotel for the reception which included an open bar for an hour, a sit down dinner, a champagne toast and a DJ who would play music until 11 PM. After parking my car, I headed up to my room to freshen up, loosen my tie and unbutton the top button on my shirt.. Since it was cool enough I left my sports coat on, especially since I was pretty sure that after the sun went down I'd be glad I had.
After getting a drink at the bar, I chatted with Barbara's brothers, an assortment of her uncles and aunts, and a couple of other people I knew. I saw Amy, Barbara's mother, and gave her a hug and complimented her on how lovely the wedding was since I knew she had devoted a lot of time and effort in helping with the arrangements. While working my way through the crowd, I did manage to find the table that had my place card on it, so I knew where I would be sitting for dinner. I refreshed my drink just before the announcement was made that dinner would be served soon and for everyone to take their seats.
I arrived at my table, greeted one of the brides' uncles and his wife, and introduced myself to a cousin of the groom and his wife and another couple who were friends of the groom's family. There was a vacant chair to my right, and as I worked my way around to my seat, a slim woman, who appeared to be about 50 and apparently unescorted, approached the vacant chair. She was wearing a claret colored summer dress which accentuated her body in an understated way and shoes that were little more than a couple of thin leather straps and a sole attached to heels a little higher than were probably safe. Being that I was raised during a time that boys were expected to be gentlemen, I held the chair for the woman before taking my own seat.
"Hello, I'm Maureen, Robert's aunt, but everyone calls me Mo." she said as she extended her hand.
I shook her hand. "My name is John, Amy's neighbor, but everyone calls me John. I've known Amy and her late husband Bill since before any of the kids were born."
"A pleasure to meet you, John, and it's nice to know that chivalry isn't totally dead."
The dinner was well prepared, tasty and very close to being hot when served, all of which are a rarity at functions like these. The dinner conversation was pleasant and we all shared a few good laughs. The best man gave his toast and we all drank our champagne with a rousing "To Barbara and Robert."
After the usual wedding silliness, the bouquet toss, the garter, and Barbara ending up with a dollop of icing on her nose during the cake cutting, the DJ took over and everyone settled back to listen, chat and watch the dancers. Mo and I chatted and got to know each other better. She told me that she had been divorced for eight years after her husband left her for his thirty five year old secretary, and that said she was recently retired from her job as assistant to the president of a small manufacturing company.
When I looked a little surprised at that statement, she said "What?"
"Nothing, I'm just a bit surprised you retired so young."
"Flatterer," she replied. "I'm sixty six. How old did you think I was?"
"If somebody asked me how old I thought you were, I'd have said fifty-two to fifty-five."
"You should get those eyes checked, young man. Your eyesight seems to be failing."
I laughed "Young man? I guess we should go to the eye doctor together then since I'm four years older than you."
"Really? I guessed to myself you were about sixty. So you're retired then?"
"No," I replied. "I still work full time. Since my wife passed, it gives me a reason to get up every morning. If I retired, I'd probably end up sitting in a recliner, watching Judge Judy or The Price Is Right all day, slowly rusting and waiting to die. As it is, I enjoy my job, it's not high stress and there is none of the corporate bullshit that is so prevalent in today's economy."
Mo thought about that for a moment before replying "I can see your point. Even though I try and stay busy with walking, golfing, yoga and volunteering, some days I stay in bed too long with no reason to get up and get going."
"Well, if you live close enough, we should get together and play golf some day. I haven't played in two or three years, but I used to be half decent."
"I live in Thompkinsville, which is only about ten miles from you, so now that the weather is getting warmer, we'll have to make a date."
We chatted about our lives, likes and dislikes, and various other topics for about a half hour before the DJ played "What Becomes of the Brokenhearted" by Jimmy Ruffin. I looked at Mo, "Come dance with me."
"I'm not sure I remember how, it's been a long time since I danced at all, let alone a slow dance."
"Well, then it's time you danced again. Think of it as your exercise for the day."
She smiled, "I hope you have on your steel-toed shoes, because I think I may step all over your feet."
Smiling as I stood up and took her hand, I replied "I'm willing to take the chance, but no crippling me just so you can beat me at golf."
