This is going to be a long afternoon. I almost wish I’d get a call somewhere, anything to eat up some time. But no call comes.

So there’s no other choice. Another deep clean it is, even though I’m not sure if my house really even needs it all this point. Although, a few of my socks are still missing their partners. So I might as well.

“Come on, Buddy,” I say,

He flips back over and trots beside me as I head inside to find some more domestic distraction.

***

Every seat is full. What an amazing sight! Emma said it was sold out, but it’s still different seeing it in person.

I got here early, but there really wasn’t anything to do. I offered to help the band bring in their equipment, but they already have people for that. So I’ve just been hanging out with Peter and Linda for the last few minutes.

Zoe is taking the tickets up front. She really loves people, so she was the obvious choice, again. She seems to enjoy it, so it was fine by me. Doing all that at the raffle was enough social time for the year for me.

Emma comes bouncing over to us, a huge grin on her face. She’s in a much different mood tonight.

She grabs my arm. “Isn’t the turnout amazing?” She actually squeals a little.

“Yes, it’s wild to see so many people in this place. I don’t think they’ve ever sold out anything here before. They’re in for a real treat when you break out that chicken dance.”

“Oh, I thought you were kidding about that?” She smiles nervously.

“Nope, it’s happening. Talked to the front man earlier.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. But I will.”

She pulls me forward. “There’s no time. Let’s go take our seats!”

Zoe slides in beside Mia and Emma just as the lights start to dim. I’m on her other side, followed by Peter and Linda.

Everyone jumps to their feet as the smoke starts to roll onstage. The drummer starts things off, hammering out a beat to get the crowd pumped and it works.

It’s so loud in here.

The rest of the band members come out one by one, grabbing their instruments and adding to the drumline. At last, the lead singer takes the mic and sings the first line of “Walking on Sunshine.”

I think it’s impossible not to be happy hearing the song.

Emma is right. This band is amazing. The crowd is loving it.

About an hour in, they start taking requests. I keep lifting my hand like I'm making a request, but Emma grabs it each time to yank it back down.

As our little game continues, I notice that she lets her hand linger on my arm a little more each time before she pulls it away.

Our dance of limbs repeats itself as the band takes more and more suggestions. Each time, we both laugh a little harder. I start trying to dart my hand in different directions to avoid her capture. But let’s be honest, I like being captured by her.

I really would love to see her on that stage shaking her moneymaker, doing the chicken dance. But I don’t think she actually wants to do it so I’m not going embarrass her. Eventually I stop my teasing.

As the night winds down, the band announces they'll sing one last song. After the applause from the crowd, they thank everyone for coming. Then they ask Emma and I to come up on the stage.

She grabs my hand and I follow her. Hopefully, she’ll be the one who talks. Thankfully, it’s a short walk because the clamminess that attacks my palms is getting out of control quickly.

Nobody wants to hold hands with an over sweater.

The lead singer hands Emma the mic. Whew. Crisis averted. No talking for this guy.