Page 23 of Threads of Kindness
“Champagne?” Gordon looked at Anita and raised an eyebrow.
She turned both palms up and looked around the room, wide-eyed. “Yes,” she said. “This whole evening is straight out of central casting for a fantasy New Year’s Eve date. I’m certain they’d be drinking champagne.”
“Do you have a favorite?” he asked her.
Anita sputtered with laughter. “I rarely drink champagne. I’m afraid I don’t,” she admitted. “Pick whatever you’d like.”
Gordon placed the order with the server, who nodded with a look of appreciation in his eyes.
“Very nice choice, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Gordon and Anita turned their attention to the dance floor. A couple in front of them executed West Coast swing moves with flawless precision.
Anita leaned toward Gordon. “They’re fabulous,” she said.
He nodded, eyes scanning the room. “As a matter of fact, ninety percent of the people out there are really good. I had no idea there were so many talented dancers in Westbury. I’ll bet people come from all over to enjoy this,” Gordon said. “The Mill puts on a first-rate New Year’s Eve.”
The server returned with a silver champagne bucket on a stand, rivulets of condensation snaking down its ice-cold sides. He plucked the bottle from the ice, wrapped it in a towel, and gripped the cork while twisting it off. A fragrant, wispy cloud of champagne followed the soft pop. He poured a small sample into a tall flute and handed it to Gordon.
Gordon took a sip and nodded.
The man filled a flute for Anita and topped off Gordon’s. “If you’d like anything else, please let me know,” he said, pointing to a card leaning against the bud vase in the middle of the table. “We offer coffee and dessert if you’d like something later.”
As the server moved away, Gordon turned to Anita. He picked up his glass and held it out.
“To us,” he said. “To the excitement that next year holds for us.”
Anita tapped his glass with hers. “Hear, hear.”
They both sipped their champagne.
“Ready?” Gordon asked. He set his glass on the table, stood, and extended his hand to her.
“If you’re sure we won’t embarrass ourselves,” Anita said. “I used to dance, but that was years ago. I’m terribly rusty.”
“Nonsense,” Gordon said. “The only thing that really matters is that we have fun.”
She placed her hand in his, and he led her onto the dance floor as the band began playing“In the Mood”by Glenn Miller. Gordon took her hands and pulled her close.
“Something tells me,” he said, “we’re going to give the rest of these couples a run for their money.”
He leaned back and led her into a basic sugar push sequence.
Anita followed his lead, and everything she’d ever learned came rushing back.
Gordon and Anita danced the night away, returning to their table only occasionally for a sip of champagne or a drink of water.
When the orchestra playedIrving Berlin’s “Cheek to Cheek,” Anita melted into Gordon’s arms. As the song suggested, she lifted her chin and pressed her cheek against his, drinking in the lingering scent of his aftershave.
“You smell divine,” Gordon whispered in her ear.
“I was thinking the same about you,” Anita replied.
Gordon pressed a kiss to her temple.
As the song ended, the orchestra leader proclaimed it was almost midnight. He encouraged the dancers to raise a glass. The orchestra leader announced that the orchestra would conclude with “Auld Lang Syne,” and invited everyone to the lobby for The Mill’s fireworks display over the river.
“Would you like to stay for the fireworks?” Gordon asked.
