The Good Dancer

“I understand”, I say as I watch my boyfriend get up from the table where we’ve just shared our favorite Italian take out. “I know you have a lot of work to do.”

He blows a kiss before disappearing into his office. When we signed the lease on this apartment 17 months ago, it was supposed to be our office, but Will is the one who sits there just about every night, usually while I watch TV or scroll mindlessly on my phone. I know being a lawyer is a lot of work, but if you already work 12 hours a day, how much more work can there be? 

I look at the clock on the kitchen wall. It’s 6:45 PM. This is one of those rare Friday nights when I’m going out with a girlfriend. Leslie just broke up with her boyfriend who she met not long after Will and I met. Three years is a long time to be dating. I can’t imagine how she must be feeling right now. I would be devastated if Will and I ever broke up. I quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher and cover the leftover pasta and chicken, stashing it in the fridge for a late-night snack or tomorrow’s lunch.

“Hey Will,” I say, heading over to the door of the office, which is open just a few inches. “Remember, I’m meeting Leslie at 8:00 PM tonight, so I’ll be heading out in about an hour.” I’m not sure if I’m expecting him to tell me to have a great time or to pull me into his lap for a snuggle, but he does neither.  

“I’m glad you’re going out, Jessie.  You always have fun with Leslie, and I’m really swamped with work tonight.”

I feel tears forming in my eyes, but I know I should be grateful. Will works hard, and he’s so devoted to me. If he makes partner at his Law Firm, we’ll be able to get married and buy a house. But he clearly forgot that the reason I’m meeting Leslie because she broke up with Jared. This isn’t going to be a fun night of partying, but a night of being a shoulder to cry on.

“Okay, well don’t work all night. It’s good to relax a bit too.” We’ve had this conversation about him working late into the night so many times. I don’t know how to respond anymore. 

“Come say goodbye before you leave, okay?” he says, and my heart swells. I do love this man, and I know he loves me too. He just defines love as taking care of someone, and that means working as hard as he can to give us a good life. That’s important to me too. I just wish he he could take off a few night a week – for both of us.

“I will, love you” I say. 

“Love you too,” he says, and we each blow kisses. I should just walk over to him, but the short distance between the door and the desk feels vast sometimes.  

With an hour until I leave the house, I head into our bedroom closet to pick out an outfit for tonight. I haven’t been out for drinks with a friend in months. It’s usually just Will and me, or a foursome with one of our coupled off friends. I would be excited about tonight, but I feel so bad for Leslie. Jared moved out of her apartment while she was on a business trip this week. Unlike us, they didn’t sign a lease together. He had moved into her place, and now, eight months later, he was moving out.

I scan the rack of clothes, eyeing the pants and sweaters and leggings I usually wear when I go out, but instead choose a cute floral dress I sometimes wear to work parties. It’s not flashy or revealing but I like how it clings to my hips, and the short sleeves show off my toned arms. I take a quick shower and carefully apply makeup before changing into the dress and pairing it with a pair of navy-blue flats. 

As I admire my outfit in the mirror, my thoughts return to Will. He makes me feel safe and protected and loved. But that wasn’t always what was important to me. In college, I went for the partiers, the “good dancers” as my mother used to call them. She always told me you don’t want to marry one of the good dancers. They’re not the kind of guy you settle down with. I know she would approve of Will if she were still alive. She would want me to be In a secure relationship.  Life isn’t perfect with Will, but nothing in perfect in life. We all just have to decide what is important to us, and at 27, I feel like I made that choice.

I take one more assessment of myself in the mirror, putting on a bit of lipstick and fixing my hair before I head back to the office. I stand at the door, knocking lightly. “Hey Will,” I say.

He looks up briefly at me and smiles. My heart melts again. I love his smile, and I really love his laugh. We used to laugh all the time when we were first dating. “So, you ready to go?” 

I step further into the room so he can see my outfit.  “Yeah, it took me forever to get ready.”

“You look nice,” he says. “Hey, have a great time. I’ll be here waiting when you get back.”

I’m not sure if he means he’ll be here in the office, or maybe waiting up for me in bed? That would be nice, especially after what I’m sure will be a tough evening. I open my mouth to ask, but the question sounds so foolish. “Great, I’ll text you and let you know how long I’ll be out… but probably not that late.”

“Just have fun. You deserve it.” He smiles again, but his eyes look for away. Is he thinking about the days we went out to bars together? Or is he just thinking of getting back to his brief or whatever he’s working on.  “Hey, I love you,” he adds, as if sensing my uncertainty. “More than anything.”

What girl could argue with a guy saying that to them? “I love you too,” I say. “I’ll miss you tonight” I mumble before I turn to leave. 

*****

We are meeting at one of old favorite bars.  I can picture that we’ll sit at one of those private booths near the front. I’m sure Leslie is going to have a lot to talk about. This has to be such a devastating time for her.

As I pull into the parking lot, I get a text from Leslie: Meet me in the back of the bar.

Wow, she must be really upset if she wants to sit in the back of the bar.  I picture her hiding in a quiet place, her eyes puffy from crying, and my heart hurts for her.

When I walk in, I head straight to the back, and find Leslie sitting at a table with two shot glasses in front of her.

“Hey, Leslie”  I say in my most sympathetic voice.

“Jessie, my girlfriend, come sit down and have a shot with me.” Leslie turns to me and she looks happy… and beautiful. She’s dressed in tight black pants, a tank top and heels. Her face is lit up, and it’s not just her bright pink lips and perfectly blushed cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, as she pulls me over to the table and shoves the shot in my hand.  

“Well, I’m sad about the breakup, but I also feel so free. Jared was the best boyfriend ever, but he just wasn’t the one. I’m starting over now. So let’s drink up.”

“Wait,” I say, not ready to down a shot. “But, you lived together? I thought…”

“We did, and it was fun playing house, but I realized I’m too young to make decisions about forever. Don’t you feel that way too sometimes?”

I feel a lump form in my throat as she compared her failed relationship to mine. I want to disagree, to tell her I’ve found my forever, but the words aren’t there. “How did Jared react when you told him?”

“He was upset. I mean we both cried. But Jared is so focused on his career, and he’s been toying with the idea of a job opportunity out of state.  I’m not prepared to follow him or devote my life to his career. I have my own life.” She clinks glasses with me, and I drink down the shot, feeling the burn, but also a burst of adrenalin. “Don’t you ever feel that way with Will?” she says as she slams the glass down on the table. “I know he’s a great guy, but he’s consumed with his job, and I worry that you might be lonely sometimes.”

My head is spinning from the shot, and also spinning from how Leslie is turning the tables on this conversation. Tonight was supposed to be her crying about her breakup, but I knew she and Jared weren’t in the same place and us. I look her in the eyes. “Yes, I’m lonely sometimes, but his career will benefit both of us, and no relationship is perfect.”

“That’s true,” Leslie says, signaling for the bartender to bring over two more shots. “Nothing in life is perfect, and it’s okay to fight with your partner, but you shouldn’t be lonely.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and as the bartender brings over two more shots, my head is already swaying. “But I love him, and he’s the kind of guy I’ve always known I wanted to marry.”

“What kind of guy is that?” Leslie asks.

I’m trying to formulate an answer when I hear someone walk up behind us.

“Hi ladies, how are you doing tonight.”

I turn toward the masculine voice to see not one -- but two guys. They’re about our age, still in their work clothes, except with their ties loosened and their short hair a bit ruffled. They’re both really cute, not that it matters to me.

“Oh, we’re doing okay,” Leslie says, her voice flirtatious. “How are you guys doing. Looks like you just got out of work.”

“Yeah, we were out celebrating with our work buddies after we scored a big account, but the rest went home to their wives, so it’s just us two single guys.” He gives a stunning grin before adding “I’m Dave and this is Brian.”  

“Hi Dave and Brian,” Leslie said. “I’m Leslie and this is my friend Jessie.”

They both nod. “Are you celebrating too?”  Brian asks.

Leslie tips her head back and laughs. “Well, sort of. I just broke up with my boyfriend, but I’m celebrating starting the next stage of my life.”

Dave’s eyes light up. “I’m sorry about your breakup, but I like your attitude. This is a new beginning.”

“For both of us,” Leslie says, and I hear the slight sadness in her voice.

“What about you, Jessie,” Brian asks, giving me an equally stunning grin. “Are you out celebrating tonight too?”

I feel my cheeks turn red at his words, so smooth, but with a genuine curiosity.  “No, I have a boyfriend. I thought I was coming here to console Leslie, but I guess that’s not the kind of night we’re having.”

Brian laughed. “That’s a good thing, right? Not to have to help a friend drown her sorrows.”

“I guess so – I mean yes, of course. I’m glad she’s handing this so well.”

“I think we need refills,” Dave says, eyeing his near empty beer can. “Can we get you ladies a chaser for those shots? My treat.”

“I’d be up for a beer,” Leslie said. “Two beers?” She looks at me, but I’m still stunned by this conversation and these guys. I can’t let someone buy me a beer. I have a boyfriend.

“Coming right up,” Dave says. “Two celebrating-our-next-stage-of-life beers.”

“Plus, two for us,” says Brian, winking at me. He actually winks, and my stomach flutters, like I’m some high school girl.  It must be the shot. I absolutely can’t have another one.

As they walk away, I turn to Leslie. “This is insane,” I say.

“Why?” Leslie says. “They know you have a boyfriend, but you’re not married. What’s wrong with letting a friendly guy buy you a $6 beer if he wants to.”

“It’s just…”

“Drink up,” she said. “This shot is in honor of you and Will. 

“Why me and Will?” I ask, picking up the small glass because what else am I going to do?

“Because I think you guys really are the real deal, but if you have any doubts – any reservations – you owe it to him to figure that out now. Cheers!” With that, she clinks my glass and downs her shot.

I down mine, feeling this one go down a little easier. I pray it doesn’t go to my head, because I need to keep my wits about me right now.

The guys return with four beers and pull up chairs. We talk for half an hour about our jobs, their big project, our lives and even about Will. Brian sits close by my side and I can feel him there looking at me intently when I speak, as though what I say is vitally important.

“Will is a lucky guy,” he says to me when Leslie and Dave start gravitating toward their own conversation and it’s just the two of us.  “But I feel bad for the guy.”

“Why is that?” I ask, trying not to sound flirtatious, trying not to edge closer and inhale the faint smell of cologne still clinging to him after a long workday. 

“Because it must have killed him to see you walk out of your apartment this evening looking so lovely, and knowing he wasn’t going to be about to spend time with you.” He shakes his head and says in a teasing voice. “Some guys just don’t know how good they have it.” 

I laugh, despite the lump forming in my throat. Brian has been kind and respectful, and the drinks are making my head swirl, but that doesn’t change anything.

“It’s okay. We’re pretty solid,” I say, wishing I sounded more convincing. 

Just then, a fast song comes on over the speaker, and the bartender puts up the volume. Everyone in the bar cheers and a few people get up to dance in the aisle between the bar and the tables.

Without a word, Leslie and Dave get up and dance their way over, leaving me and Brian alone. Leslie looks so happy, so alive. I know this thing with Dave probably isn’t leading anywhere, but this was what she wanted. A night of fun and freedom.

“So, shall we?” Brian says, pointing over to where a dozen people are now jumping and shouting to the music. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to go out and dance.”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “It does look like fun but…”

“Hey, not to brag, but I’m a really good dancer,” Brian says with a sexy grin.

“Of course you are,” I say, laughing for the first time all day. It feels good. I really do think Will is the one. But one dance with a kind stranger isn’t going to change that. And if it does, Leslie is right, better to find out now.  I get up, and Brian follows. He doesn’t take my hand or try to do anything cringy or awkward.  He hasn’t done that in all the time we’ve been talking. We head over to where our friends are already jumping and shouting the lyrics so loud you can barely hear the song playing and join the celebration.