This isn’t actually a date, is it?
Will kept turning up.
After our first meeting for breakfast, we made plans to attend a local, outdoor music festival. The festival was free and didn’t require a tremendous commitment from either of us. We could, in the end, run screaming from the town square if things didn’t work out. We would arrive separately.
The last time I danced
The prospect of dancing in public unnerved me. My sweet Robert and I hadn’t danced in years. The last time we’d taken a spin around the floor was at Maddie’s wedding. As the sun glanced off the crystal glasses, and silverware tinkled on the last dinner plates in the beautiful hall, Robert had danced with complete abandon. He threw his arms wide in turns which made me dizzy. His face lit up with unfiltered glee.
I was more reserved.
By her wedding day in 2018, Robert’s behavior had become increasingly erratic. Maddie was worried he might say something inappropriate at her reception. She didn’t invite him to speak. But she needn’t have labored over the arrangements. In his inimitable style, Robert invited himself to speak. Following my speech, he found a kernel of his old self and stepped up to share tales of Trent’s most enduring qualities.
