Page 33 of Finding Basil
Carla’s smile was priceless. In that smile on a woman’s face, he saw that little girl that always seemed dirty from playing in mud and eating cherry popsicles in the summer. Two red stains on either side of her pretty smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief, and sugar-hyper.
He saw her tearing off the wrapping of her Christmas presents every Christmas Eve and inevitably finding the most Easter eggs each spring. They were always hidden in the orchard, near the trunks or up on the lower branches.
Tradition, and she was carrying it on well. Basil remembered Sabrina’squinceanerawell, and her pink gown and tiara that their mother had gotten special for her. He’d seen pictures of his mother’s and even his abuela’s, and now it was Carla’s turn to be the princess of the night.
When the song was over and everyone was applauding them, Basil hugged his niece and vowed, “You’re the most beautiful fifteen-year-old that ever lived.”
“Thanks, Uncle B. That means a lot from you.”
“You’re always going to make this family proud. You know that, right?”
“That’s the plan,” she said and gave him a wink as she left his arms and ran to her friends to brag on the dance, he knew.
Herb met him still on the dance floor, and asked for the next dance, which was a nice slow tune. “You were the other belle of the ball there.”
“Yeah? I can dance a little, I guess.”
“Humble too. Well, I’m never going to a club with you. You’ll make me look like a clod with two left feet.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
The purple lights on Herb’s smiling face were perfect. Purple fit him, funny enough. He looked like the charming prince in all the fairy tales he’d ever read as a child, sneaking Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast from his sister’s shelf.
That sandy blond head of shiny hair, those sparkling blue eyes, the quick smile that was just a little crooked, like he was never sure of himself.
Being humble fit him. So was being confident. His hands wrapped around Basil’s waist as they danced, and the smell of his aftershave was perfectly mixed with his flowery shampoo scent. Everything about him was lovely.
“Will you take me on a date this weekend?”
“Sure. Where would you like to go?”
Basil had never been forward with a man that he hadn’t been dating a while. Herb was not that, but he was someone that Basil felt more comfortable with than guys he’d been with for months.
The ease of their connection was so nice to feel that being forward didn’t seem like anything but natural. “To bed.”
Herb’s brows rose as if that was the last answer he expected. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I am. Just don’t disappoint me,” he teased. “You only get one shot at a first impression, you know.”
“Oh. Oh, better bring my A game then, huh?”
“Exactly.”
The flirting was only a little better than the dancing. Moving his body with Herb on that dance floor was why he’d thought of the sex. They were harmonious in their movements, knowing what the other would do before it happened.
Abuela danced close to them with Juan and told them, “You dance perfectly together, like I always have with Abuelo.”
As soon as she was away, Basil told Herb, “They have always danced well together. That’s where they met, at a dance at school. In the fifties, no less.”
“They met and fell in love on a dance floor?”
Basil nodded, knowing the story by heart. “They knew they loved each other before the end of two weeks, and Abuelo was asking her to marry him less than a month after that. She said no twice, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She said she’d know for sure he really wanted to spend his life with her if he asked three times. And, well, he did. That time she said yes.”
“Beautiful story. Is that what we’ll tell our grandchildren too?”
