An Unfinished Story(26)

Soon the instructor, an older man in fancy shoes and a crisp guayabera, clapped his hands and asked everyone to gather around. Claire hesitantly joined the group in the center of the large wooden floor and noticed Didi returning just in time. Claire pushed away the thought of escaping and told herself that she needed to have some fun for once. All the other widows had giant smiles. Why was she so hesitant?

After thanking everyone for coming, the instructor sent them all to find partners. The ladies Claire had come with turned to the men or women next to them.

Claire turned to Didi, the safe choice, but her friend had already linked up and was giggling with another man. Claire suddenly felt light-headed, and she crossed her arms and looked down at the light-wood floor. Oh, how she wanted to leave, to be a sailor on a tiny boat surrounded by water.

Then a man with a genuine smile appeared. “Can I be your partner?”

Claire met his eyes and smiled back. He was twenty years older and wore a Hawaiian shirt tucked into blue shorts pulled up well above his belly button. A woven belt held him together.

“I’m Billy,” he said with an easy South Texas accent, sticking out his hand.

“Claire,” she said in a tremulous voice, wondering how she could so easily manage a large staff at a restaurant but feel vulnerable now.

“I have to warn you,” he said. “I’m terrible at this. Please forgive me, dear.”

Claire raised her hands in surrender. “I’ve never danced salsa in my life, so you’re already doing better than I am.”

The instructor clapped his hands again. “Now everyone spread out; make some room.” Claire and Billy moved away from the crowd and found their own space on the floor. “Face your partner.”

Billy smiled at her, as if assuring her that he wouldn’t bite.

“Ladies, we’ll go over your steps first. Men, you’ll do the opposite.” The instructor performed as he spoke. “Back with the right, two, three, up with the left, two, three. Now try it.”

Claire almost tripped over herself. “Oh God, I’m really bad at this. These don’t even feel like my feet.”

“It’s okay,” Billy said patiently, his laid-back Texan intonation easing her.

Determined now, Claire said, “Okay, here we go.” She counted again and focused on one foot at a time, switching her weight with each step. She felt like she was trying to pat her head and rub her stomach simultaneously. “I’m never going to get this.”

“So long as we’re done by my tee time Saturday morning, I’ve got plenty of time.”

They were soon attempting their moves to the music. “Oh, wow,” Claire said, “this adds to the challenge. Can you tell there’s no Cuban leaf on my family tree?”

“The only Cuban leaf I’m connected to is the cigar I enjoyed last week. It took me a year to learn what you just figured out in ten minutes.”

During another attempt, the instructor approached and put his hand on her hips. “You’re getting it, but loosen those hips. Have a little fun with it.”

Fun, she mused. She didn’t even know what fun was anymore.

But she and Billy eventually fell into their rhythm, and like an impostor, a smile planted itself on Claire’s face. But she couldn’t deny, impostor or not, it was a smile that had deep roots, one that she couldn’t have hidden had her life depended on it.

Claire covered her mouth. Though this was fun, she felt guilty. A dark voice inside her was stomping her foot, demanding, “Fun isn’t allowed.” And yet something felt right about what she was doing. She wanted to snap at the ugly voice and tell the little monster that she had every right.

Round and round they went, switching partners, adding new spins and various footwork. Toward the end of the hour, Lashonda and Claire paired.

As they attempted their moves, Lashonda asked, “Have you seen Claire, by chance? She was here earlier. The one with the sad heart on her sleeve.”

Claire caught her drift quickly. “I can’t believe you all talked me into this. But I’m so glad you did.”

The most genuine smile in the world. “Good for you for stepping out. I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”

Though she wasn’t necessarily accomplishing anything, Claire had a strong feeling that she was doing something so much more important than getting the monotonous checked off, like something to do with selling the house or running the café. The warrior inside her was breaking through, and she was getting down to the marrow of her life again. It wasn’t about trying to get by. That was all she’d done for so long.

It was about honoring David’s memory by living life to the fullest.

Why had this been such a difficult vision to see? Why such a difficult concept to wrap her head around? Hadn’t everyone been telling her this for years? Was it really this simple? A few little smiles as she stumbled around attempting to dance salsa?

Perhaps.



Claire spent the next two days packing and working with the movers to empty the house. She visited her old home one last time after the cleaners had wiped away the last of her and David’s life together. It was Tuesday morning, a few hours before the closing.

She climbed the steps and entered his empty office. She looked where his desk had been and, for one last time, imagined him sitting there.