[Part 1, 2, and 3.]
The day after my harried exit, Meg and Tim were married during a beautiful Nuptial Mass.
It was during the wedding reception that my crush on My Miriam's Brother started developing into genuine admiration. Solicitous of his mother, he made sure her glass was never empty and her plate remained full. With grace and charm he was lighting up the dance floor with his sisters. Most endearing of all, however, was how the children flocked to him and how sweetly he danced with the toddlers and little girls. Oh, what an amazing father he would be!
I was trying to refrain from staring at him. I was sitting with many dear friends and genuinely wanted to visit with them, and also did not want to be obvious about my dance floor surveillance. But I casually glanced up long enough to see that he was headed straight towards our table!
Of course I would have to refuse him. The mere sight of him made my knees weak; there's no way I could stand long enough to dance with him! In the twenty seconds it took for him to reach our table, I had hurriedly crafted four excuses.
On principle: "Oh my, thank you, what an honor, but I don't dance." By a common complaint: "Thank you so much, but I'm so sorry, my feet are really sore." The simple approach: "I'm so flattered, but no thank you." And the delicate feminine excuse: "Oh, thank you so much, but my shoes are too tight for dancing."
I wasn't sure which one I was going to use but I had to pick quickly, he was here and extending his hand!!
I opened my mouth to speak, picking the airtight "on principle" excuse... my heart was galloping and the color was rising in my cheeks. In an instant I had to cover my mouth and fake a yawn to conceal my gasping squawk. He had asked my friend "Diana," who was sitting next to me, to dance!!
BURN!!! SHUN!! SMACK!
I was both fuming and relieved at the same moment. I'd be ready for him when he returned with Diana and asked me to dance. All civility aside, a cold and flat, shunned woman: "No thanks," would do.
But I never had a chance to score the sting; he returned to the table escorting Diana and then walked away. That evening he didn't ask me to dance at all.
To be continued...