Let’s make some memories
It’s after 11. We return downstairs. “Okay, sit on the couch. Close your eyes and imagine you’re Cinderella at the ball.”
I find one of mom’s records. This will get her for sure. Bowing slightly….”Alison, may I have this dance?
She nods enthusiastically. It appears she is at a loss for words.
We shuffle with foreheads touching, arms wrapped around backs. Occasionally, we peck lips. There is no longer urgency; we swim in the moment, secure together. Sighs of utter contentment.
Song over, she whispers. “Why, oh why can these moments never end?” We are dreamers sharing the same dream.
“Stay here. I have an encore in mind.”
Music over, kissing seems anti-climactic. We sit on the couch watching tube and finishing the Jiffy Pop. Midnight comes, we watch the ball go down and lip lock wordlessly. Guy Lombardo is still playing Auld Lang Syne at ten after; nothing changes.
She zips up the boots and returns to a few inches over me. “Have fun?” I ask.
“Shit, yes. I never thought I would share New Years Night with a real boyfriend.”
“Better than on the couch with mom and dad?”
“Just a little.” Her eyes twinkle. “See ya back in the auditorium on Monday.”
I watch as night envelopes her out of sight.