The Dance - Cover

The Dance

Copyright© 2021 by Rooftop Herald

Chapter 42

Date night on Friday was ordinary for once, both of us content to simply see a movie at the Cineplex preceded by a nice supper in a small hole-in-the-wall Italian place my foodie app had recommended. With all that we had going on that week, it was actually a welcome change of pace for us. Both of us felt that we didn’t have to swing for the fences each time we went out.

Saturday dawned with Dad and me at the ‘Y,’ improving our pugilistic skills to the point where our instructor was almost ready to have us start sparring with a partner in the ring. The weights on the jump rope had increased over time and the forearms really felt it after ten or fifteen minutes. The good news was that we’d lose the weights soon and start working on speed and quickness.

The usual Saturday chores awaited us at home: lawn, cleaning, vacuuming, mopping, weeding and general maintenance filled another couple of hours. Trent’s game was at noon and it was ninety minutes to Athens. We finished putting a dent in Saturday-work at nine-thirty, showered, changed and were in the Tahoe by ten. Both Dad and Evie were curious as to what the double date portion of the day had in store for them. Other than telling them to wear clothes in which they’d be comfortable doing almost anything from hiking to dining in a good restaurant, we hadn’t really shared anything with them.

Paige was in charge of the ‘to,’ phase of the day. That meant that from home to Athens, she was responsible for making the experience as fun as she could. I didn’t know her plans, but she had asked whether she could take my Surface along with us, so presumably they included music. I was right when she synched the device to the stereo in the SUV, beginning what turned out to be a ninety minute game of, ‘Name that Tune.’

When someone would get the song right, Paige would let it play through and encouraged us to belt out the lyrics that we knew and sometimes simply made up. That was perhaps the most fun, particularly when Paige would stop the song, go on the internet and read back what the words to the tune actually were. Dad took the brunt of the abuse as he was the most likely to get them wrong. In fact, Paige had an award that she pulled out of her satchel – it was a bag of M&Ms, for Mercer-McKenzie. On it, she had attached a card that proclaimed the wearer to be the, ‘Winner of All the Wrong Words,’ in a plastic envelope that could be pinned to a shirt. The rest of the day he had to wear it. All of us had similar pronouncements pinned to us by the end of the ride.

In Athens, we had a difficult time finding parking and we ended up walking almost ten blocks to the stadium Will Call box. Trent’s tickets were waiting for us and we spent the next three hours cheering for our friend and booing the losing team. We didn’t get to say hi or anything, but at one point number 53 turned around and scanned the section of stands we were in. Paige noticed and told all of us to wave. He raised his helmet in his hand in response.

It was mid to late afternoon by the time we managed to get back to the Tahoe, what with the crowds and foot traffic along the way. The main event for the evening wouldn’t actually begin until after seven, so we had three hours to kill. When we were all sitting in the vehicle once again, Dad turned to me.

“It’s your show, Tim. What do you have planned?”

He surprised a smile on my face. “That doesn’t start until seven and goes to midnight. We have time to look at antebellum architecture and grab some dinner yet. Paige has the map on the Surface, so she’ll give you directions.” Dad simply put the big vehicle in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

For the next hour or so, we’d drive, stop, hop out, walk around some historic buildings noting interesting features, and then hop back in to find the next place. The women wanted to group up and leave the men to look by themselves, but I shook my head when Paige tried to abandon me.

She was initially puzzled, and then realized that this wasn’t a family outing but a double date. Evie got the idea when Paige whispered to her. After that, she stayed firmly attached to Dad’s side. For his part, he realized fairly quickly that I was ignoring him when he tried to share things with me. Once he came up to speed, he made sure his comments were addressed to Evie.

Following the antebellum period, we found an art museum at the University of Georgia and wandered through that. I saw Dad’s eyes glaze over after what I judged to be an appropriate amount of time, and I suggested we simply walk around and do some window shopping in the historic district. Now Paige was encouraged to join her mom for the second half of our walking trip, peering into windows and imagining themselves with purchases from that store. Dad fell back to hang with me when that happened, looking chagrinned.

“I see what you’re doing here, Tim, and you’re right. This isn’t a family day trip is it? Thanks for treating it as a double date – now, want to share with me what’s coming up?”

“Dinner, Dad. Let’s find something that we know they’ll like while they’re pretending to be debutantes at the ball.”

I hauled out my phone and the foodie app, looking for whatever Athens had to offer that we couldn’t find elsewhere. It turns out that there were two restaurants of the same name featuring Cuban food here – Cali N Tito’s. The app warned that there would be lines, but when Dad had seen the menu, he jumped on it.

“Evie loves anything spicy,” he told me.

I was disappointed. “You’ve been holding out on me. I never knew about her love for heat. I’m going to have to find some new recipes.”

I think I saw his forehead break out into sweat at the mention that I’d be punching up my menus, but I knew he could handle whatever I wanted to dish out. Seattle’s Mexican-community restaurants had seen us there many a time while Mom was still alive, and he liked spice almost as much as I did. We turned off my phone, now that we had a destination, and moved briskly to catch up to the ladies.

“You know, I’m getting a little hungry here, Honey,” Evie informed Dad.

Paige made a similar comment to me.

“Good, we have a place picked.” Dad wasn’t sure of what came after though so he asked me if we should walk or drive.

“Drive, our evening’s event is in the direction opposite from where we parked.”

That got us all moving back to the vehicle. From the parking meter, it wasn’t much more than a five minute trip to CnT. The girls let out a little cheer when they saw the Cuban restaurant, even though the line was as advertised on the app. No matter, we disembarked and stood with all the others here, spending our time making conversation with each other and two other couples around us in line.

When it came time to be seated, we asked for a table for eight so we could continue getting to know our new friends. One couple was older, probably late fifties or early sixties; the other appeared to be a college-aged duo somewhere in the beginning stages of a relationship. Dad extended an invitation for both to join us, and our double date became a double-double.

The older folks, that would be Mom, Dad, Aaron and Renee, all ordered Margaritas to drink. Those of us not eligible yet for that privilege had cokes. Dad checked with the rest of the table before ordering appetizers for us all. I could tell that Jeff and Lorraine, the college daters, were a little leery at the thought of splitting the tab, but he put them at ease.

“My treat. We’re doubling tonight with my son and daughter and so far they’ve shown us a fabulous time, so I’m picking up dinner for everyone.” That got thanks initially, and questions soon following.

Dad had to explain the whole mother-father marriage, son-daughter dating situation, which drew congratulations from the rest of the table and satisfied their curiosity. It was when he took another breath that Paige told me to brace myself.

“One guess as to the topic of conversation for the rest of the meal,” she whispered in my ear.

I nodded, sighing. Sure enough, Dad launched into what should have been a PowerPoint presentation by now, telling the highlights of all the Tim stories from the past eighteen months. Renee and Aaron checked with me to see how I was taking it, seeming relieved when I joined in the tales-out-of-school, at least that’s what they thought those were. In one of the breaks they commented on that.

“James, Tim seems to be taking your ribbing quite well. If we had told such whoppers about our children in front of strangers, they wouldn’t have reacted quite as jovially. What’s your secret?”

“Well, part of it is because they aren’t whoppers and we don’t embellish any of the stories, so while they may make Tim a little uncomfortable, he knows we’re not trying to embarrass him with lies. He did it to himself.”

The older couple didn’t quite believe that, so Dad upped the ante. They had already heard of my courtship of Paige last fall, now he wanted me to tell the story of this year’s Valentine’s Day. I smiled, as that was a really good memory for both me and Paige.

Our appetizers arrived while I was telling them of that night, so it got interrupted while I ate from my plate and then Paige’s as well. She objected loudly then proceeded to steal items from my selections while I wasn’t watching. This added veracity to the tale of romance and chocolates and pizza ingredients and toxic odors throughout the house.

I finished the story around the time that everyone’s entrees had been consumed. Our guests at the table were still having a hard time believing that we had told them the truth. Dad noticed and shared with them what we were doing today with the double date.

“We got tired of hearing about all their perfect romantic moments, so we challenged them to think up something for today. First there was impromptu Carpool Karaoke,” he stopped when Paige shook her head. “Wait, that was planned?”

He got a nod in response. “Hence the name tag you’re wearing”

“I give up. Evie, these two really are dating savants.” He then had to describe what went on during the drive to Athens, the football game, the architectural and art tours during the afternoon, the couple dynamics that we had worked to establish as opposed to a family dynamic, and now the dinner. “And Tim tells me that we still have something else to do after this before we attempt the drive back to Macon.”

Now I had four sets of eyes unrelated to either Paige or me, staring in astonishment. First one and then the other couple asked if they could join us for the rest of the evening. I didn’t think the bowling alley would mind so I acquiesced, telling them that they’d need to follow us when we left, but that it was a short drive.

Soon after, Dad was presented the tab, paid for everything, and again invited our dinner companions to come along and experience the rest of the evening with us.

“I have no idea what Tim and Paige planned, but if it’s like the rest of the day, it’s going to be fun and probably unexpected.”

We got into the vehicles. I drove the Tahoe out into the street and waited for the other cars to find us. Paige punched in the address to the alley and we soon had a voice telling us to turn here, and that our destination was on our left. The surprise was complete when the marquee in front of the venue lit up displaying that Disco Bowling was now in vogue. The three vehicles found spots near each other and we headed into the building. Dad lingered a bit so he could reassure Jeff and Lorraine that their evening was on him as well.

I hadn’t known what to expect and so was pleasantly surprised when strains of ABBA music slipped past the double doors that sealed off the venue. We entered, got shoes, located the important areas of the alley, bathrooms and dance floor, and paid for two lanes. Dad and Mom took one with Aaron and Renee while Jeff and Lorraine joined us. We bowled, we danced, I taught people how to disco, I had fun with Paige as I showed her the John Travolta moves that Mom had instilled in my dancing genes. The floor emptied as I did that, folks stepping to the edge and clapping in time with the music. It was a blast, but by eleven, we were danced and bowled out. All four couples shook hands and hugged at the end of our night, and then since Dad and Mom had enjoyed another couple of margaritas, I got the keys to the Tahoe.

We didn’t exactly have to pour our parents into the back, but it was definitely a good thing that Dad wasn’t driving. On the way back, we listened to another Mercer mix. Mom and Dad in the second row of the Tahoe were making out like teenagers. I pointed them out to Paige and then tilted the rearview mirror so I wouldn’t spy on them.


The soundproofing worked once again, or I’m sure we would have heard another litany of, ‘Oh Gods,’ and, ‘Right theres,’ coming from the master suite that night. In the morning, both parents looked tired but extremely pleased with themselves at breakfast.

Grandma said something about it after church and was told there was a story behind it all. They were invited to our house for homemade pizza and do-it-yourself desserts, where they heard about the day-trip to Athens and the activities enjoyed by all. Grandma pouted until we told her they’d be there for the next time – a triple date if you will. Football took up the rest of the day.

The first full week in November passed relatively quietly. The volleyball team crushed another opponent, showing that they deserved their number one ranking in the region. Thursday during lunch Andie Ryan approached our table with news.

“I got a recruiting call from UGA.” It was all she could do to sit still at the table.

“And?” Paige asked.

“And they want to offer me a full scholarship to play volleyball.”

That was huge for her. She had been planning to take two years of Community College since her family couldn’t really afford to send her to a four year University. Now, she could have the full University experience and she was obviously ecstatic.

“I owe it all to you, Paige.”

That drew a smile, “You know you don’t. I think we owe it all to our coaches here and to Coach Eliot for coming out and working on our skills with us.”

“True, but if you hadn’t made the connections in Chicago, we wouldn’t have gotten Olympic-level training.”

Paige smiled again. “Well, then we all owe it to Tim and Dad for taking me to Chicago with them this summer.”

She leaned in to speak privately with Andie. “It’s a big world out there, Andie, and you should make the most of your opportunities. Tim shows me that almost every day.”

Andie smiled, “I will. You know what’s the funniest thing about all of this though? UGA was scouting Anderson Prep when we played against them, and that’s how I ended up getting the scholarship.” With that, she left our table and went to share the news with some of their other volleyball teammates.

It must have been the day for good news, since our lunch was interrupted again not more than ten minutes later by another volleyball player, Touloula Bell. She sat down opposite Paige which put her next to me.

“I’m not sorry to interrupt, guys,” she said. “I got a call last night from an Assistant Coach in Seattle, wanting to know where I was going to college.”

Touloula’s family was very poor and she had little hope of getting out of Macon. Paige had told me that she didn’t even have the funds to attend Community College, although her grades were good. She hadn’t taken the SAT or ACTs since she hadn’t expected to get much beyond cashier at Walmart. Now, the world was presenting her with options she hadn’t known might exist for her.

“What did you tell them?” Paige prompted.

“I said I didn’t think that college was in my future.” She laughed. “Coach Falls asked me what I would do if I got a full ride to one.” She wanted advice, “What do I do?”

Paige knew this was good fortune staring her teammate in the face. “You sign up and take the SATs immediately so they can evaluate you. You take the ACTs as well and then when they offer you the scholarship, you jump on it. By the way, the school that called wouldn’t happen to be University of Washington, would it?”

“How did you know that?”

“That’s where Tim and I are going next year, and I have an athletic scholarship there as well. We sent them links to the highlight films of our team that Tim has been making since August – that’s probably where they saw you. Good for you, Girl.”

Touloula was still unsure of the process, so Paige excused herself from the table so she could take the other girl to the library to get everything set up for College testing. I didn’t see her until next period, and then there were happy smiles.


Talk of one of Paige’s teammates possibly joining her at UW really brought home to me the fact that we would be leaving Georgia come next summer. I began to mentally list all of the things I still wanted to get done before then. One of those was to get my kit car up and running. Dad, Grandpa and I had been working on it together sporadically, but now I needed to see it through. I decided that since all three of us were here almost every Wednesday night, I would suggest that we block out some time after school and before dinner to work on the car together. I got Grandpa on the phone and he jumped at the idea – a talk later with Dad had him just as excited.

Another thing that I needed to think about was housing. When we moved to Seattle, Paige and I could do one of three things: we could live apart on campus, we could rent a house or apartment, or we could live in a place I either built or rehabbed. That weighed heavily on me for the evening. Paige noticed it but gave me my space, only asking me about it as we lay in our separate beds and discussed the day.

The little yellow radio cut into my musings. “So what was up with you tonight? You hardly said anything during dinner and then were quiet all evening.”

I decided that shared burdens were immeasurably lighter.

“I was thinking.”

She waited me out.

“I don’t want to assume anything, but when we go to school next year, where are we going to be living?” I laid out the three options I had identified. “I don’t know whether as a student athlete they’ll require you to live on campus or if you’ll have freedom to find your own accommodations.”

There was a little uncertainty in her voice when she answered. “I always thought that you and I would share a living space; apartment or house wouldn’t matter to me. I guess we hadn’t really discussed that, but I looked into it when I got my scholarship, and I don’t have to stay on campus.”

“Thank God.” Those words escaped me as I held my finger on the transmit button. “Then let me make this official. Paige, will you live with me next year?”

“Yes.” There was relief in her voice. “Where?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? What do you want?”

She laughed loud enough that I could hear it without the transmission. “What do I want? I want everything so long as it’s with you. Hold on, let me see if I can articulate it.” She was quiet for long enough that I thought maybe she had fallen asleep.

“Tim, are you still awake?”

“I’m here, Sweet Pea.”

“Good. I know what I want.”

“Tell me.”

“I want what we have here. I want a garden; a garage where you can work on your car; a back yard where I can have a pizza oven; a place to sunbathe in private; a media room where I can watch movies or study quietly; an exercise center, flower beds, lawn, good neighbors and friends. Is that too much?”

Her words had filled me with calm and a vision to settle my roiling thoughts. “That’s just the right amount; I want that too along with extra rooms for guests or parents. There’s only one thing you left out that I want in addition: a kitchen like we have here. I’m thinking that we may need to get in touch with Aunt June and start her searching for either a fixer-upper that would give us what we’re looking for, or a piece of land where I could build us something.”

The love in her voice surfed the airwaves between us. “That sounds perfect.”

We spent more time than normal that early November night discussing a house and yard large enough to accommodate everything we had expressed. When we finally signed off, I was fairly sure that we’d be doing rehab on an older property – maybe one of the mansions from the 1920s that had some deferred maintenance issues. Dad had paid me well for the summer, and he had told me that since the three builds we had completed had all sold at a premium, there would be a K-1 for my taxes from McKenzie Construction to the owners as well. I went to sleep happy.

Dad, Grandpa and I put the 427 on the front burner that week, stripping the Mustang frame completely and taking it to a custom shop for sandblasting and powder coating. They promised to have it ready for me to pick up on Saturday. In the meantime, we looked online to see what kind of engine we might want to put in it – the options were almost overwhelming. One question I needed to answer was whether I wanted to build the power plant myself and try to match it up with a transmission and axles or get something custom-designed for the car the other two McKenzies had gotten me. If we had any chance of getting this kit put together by the time I left for college, it would have to be the custom option.

My Surface was connected to the shed’s WiFi and all three of us looked at what was available. A low whistle escaped me as I saw the prices.

“I’m beginning to think that we just get the stock engine and transmission out of another busted up Mustang and put them in.”

The low end was $5K and the upper was closer to $25K. I think I caught Dad’s gulp as he saw the numbers flash across the screen.

“Well, it wasn’t my intention last Christmas to give you a fifty thousand dollar car, but then again it looks like I didn’t do as much research into it as I should have.” He paused. “Pick what you want and I’ll cover it, just don’t tell Evie. It’ll be your combination birthday, Christmas and graduation present all in one.”

Grandpa punched Dad in the shoulder. “What kind of dad are you? I’ll chip in some, too, so long as I get to drive it a few times before he drags it off to Seattle. You get him something nice for his birthday and for Christmas. Don’t cheap out.”

I laughed with them. I knew Dad would still see that I didn’t get gypped on any of those three celebrations, although my gifts might not be as lavish as they otherwise would have been.

“Thanks, guys.”

“You know he’s going to pick the high end now, don’t you?” my father asked his father.

There was a grin on Grandpa’s face that matched the one on Dad’s, “Wouldn’t be any fun if he didn’t. Can’t wait to burn a few mils off those performance tires you’re buying him either.”


Speaking of birthdays, Paige’s and mine were right around the corner. November had proceeded at pace to where our celebration week was upon us, even though apparently there was lash back at Oprah for having a birthday month. Ours got pared down to two days – one for me, and then one for Paige. Actually, it boiled down to a single celebration for both of us on her birthday since that fell on a Friday this year and we could extend the party into the wee hours of the morning if we so desired.

We decided to go low-key, surprising our parents with a request for them to treat us and the grandparents at the restaurant we had passed up on Valentine’s Day. Paige and I exchanged gifts with each other and were given additional presents from the elders at our table. I think that everyone was surprised when we teens gave each other household goods – I received a high-end blender from her and she a beautifully crafted desk lamp set from me.

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