Chapter 9 #2
Well, three of us were terrible, Alice was a marvel, learning the steps in record time, dancing on those long legs of hers she’d made a career out of. And in our new line of signature orthopedic heels to boot. If Fran were here, she’d be shooting a commercial for sure.
The steps were a mystery the three of us couldn’t unlock, but we didn’t care.
Our laughter nearly drowned out the music as we tried to keep up.
I kept going left when everyone went right.
Marge was half a beat behind on every turn, stomping with enthusiasm that had absolutely nothing to do with the rhythm.
“Whoops! Sorry!” I apologized for the millionth time as I crashed into a woman when I spun the wrong way.
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” She smiled back. “Keep going!”
The music changed and everyone grabbed a partner. The widows and I stood in the center of the dance floor, trying to make sense of what was now happening. A man in a cowboy hat grabbed Marge without warning, and she shrieked first with surprise and then with joy as he spun her around the floor.
“Look at me! I’m Ginger Rogers!” she called, then whooped as they twirled away.
Another young man slid up next to Alice, offering his hand, which she accepted with a bow. Together they danced off like they’d been partners for decades.
Two more cowboys grabbed me and Sylvie, and at first, I went to protest that it was inappropriate to dance with a man other than my husband, but as the skinny little guy in his early twenties grinned at me with crooked teeth, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
Instead, I let him guide me around the floor, following the steps he knew so well.
I laughed and smiled until my face hurt as I spun past all the widows swept away with their own partners.
And I danced.
I danced terribly and happily and with my whole heart, the music filling up every corner of me that had been dark with worry, and I thought, This is what I was missing. This. Right here.
The drinks kept coming and the music kept playing, one song blending into the next while we danced, sweaty and flushed and laughing, and I didn’t feel like an old woman. I didn’t feel like a woman whose best friend had cancer. I felt like a Wilder Widow—wild and free and full of life.
“What is that?” Marge slid to a stop, and I smashed into her. She looked like a hunting dog that had just spotted a bird.
“Ow!” I rubbed my elbow, then looked to where she pointed.
The bartender was pulling back a curtain and opening a new section of the bar now that it was officially party time and not dinnertime.
“Is that… a mechanical bull?” Sylvie stopped dancing and joined us.
The three of us stared at it, as Alice was still off in her own world, spinning and dancing from one corner to the next. Then she caught us standing there and came high-stepping over.
“What’s going on?”
Marge’s face lit up as her eyes bulged bigger. “A mechanical bull, Alice. It’s a freaking mechanical bull.” She spun to me. “Doris? Is it your wish that we all take a turn on the mechanical bull?”
I looked at it for a moment, worry flooding my chest that we would get hurt. I’d seen the cowboys tossed from the young horses when they’d start them each spring. It looked… painful.
But I saw the squishy mats beneath the bull, and I remembered that the big guy was up there watching out for me, so I could have a little fun down here before I joined Him up there… dragging my three friends with me.
“It’s my wish! Bull rides for everyone!” I clapped, hopping up and down.
“Oh no,” Alice said.
“Oh yes.” Marge was already moving. “I love this side of you, Doris!” She whooped and tossed a fist in the air, beelining for the bull.
Sylvie just chuckled. “This sure is a different side of you, Doris.”
I crossed my arms tight. “No more boring Doris. I’m the one pushing this time. So, let’s go ride that bull, ladies!”
Marge shouldered her way through the small crowd that had gathered, and a minute later, she was climbing onto that bull with the confidence of a woman who had done far more dangerous things than this.
Which in Marge’s case was entirely true.
The bull came alive, bucking and spinning as Marge held on for dear life. The gathering crowd cheered for her as she hooted and hollered until her ride ended with a shriek as she face-planted into the mats.
For one long moment, everyone was silent. Then she leaped up, arms spread wide. “That was awesome!”
The bar roared back at her, people clapping her on the back as she sauntered out like a cowgirl who’d just won the entire rodeo.
“Okay, who’s next?” She waved an arm toward the bull.
Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was this newfound spiritual awakening I’d had to live life to the fullest. Whatever it was, I shouted, “Me!”
“DORIS!” Sylvie covered her mouth as she laughed. “Look at you go! I don’t know if I should be impressed or scared of this wild side!”
“Impressed.” Alice pinched those bright-pink lips together. “I am impressed. Good luck, cowgirl.” She smacked me on the bottom, and I giggled as I raced toward the bull.
I swung up with ease, having spent many hours in the saddle when I was on the ranch. The crowd around us clapped and cheered, no doubt shocked to see someone who looked like their grandma sitting on the bull.
But they didn’t know I really was a cowgirl. They didn’t know I’d recently decided to grab life by the horns as well as the mechanical bull beneath me.
I settled onto the padded body, wiggling until I found my center of balance. I looked at the girls, all three screaming and cheering.
I looked at the man controlling it, lifted my hand like the cowboys did at the rodeo, and gave him a sharp nod.
The bull lurched. I gripped the handle like it was the hand of the Lord.
And in approximately one and a half seconds, I was screaming through the air, landing in an awkward heap with my face smooshed into the mat, my legs up over my head, and my little pink boots kicking in the air as I tried to right myself.
But I didn’t care I’d been tossed from the bull so fast I didn’t even think we’d made a half spin. I rolled over and laughed so hard I thought my ribs might crack, tears pouring down my cheeks.
Three faces appeared above me.
“Doris! Are you hurt?” Sylvie dropped beside me.
I couldn’t answer. I was struggling to breathe from the silent laughter wracking my body.
“Is she paralyzed? Oh my God! She’s not getting up! She’s paralyzed!” Alice paced frantically beside me.
Finally, I inhaled a full gasp, and that huge breath came out in hysterical laughter.
“Wait a friggin’ minute.” Marge leaned close enough I could smell the tequila on her breath. “She’s not crying… She’s laughing!”
I couldn’t stop the laughter rolling from my body.
At the ridiculousness that I’d hopped onto a mechanical bull.
At the even bigger ridiculousness that I’d thought I would do so well people would tell me I should bull ride for real, and soon I’d head home to hop on El Diablo and show Axel my amazing bull-riding skills.
Then I laughed even harder at how spectacularly I had failed and how much I didn’t care.
“She’s okay?” Alice’s face squished in with Sylvie’s and Marge’s. “She’s really okay?”
“I’m okay!” I finally managed between hysterics. “I’m better than okay! I did it! I rode the bull! I stopped worrying so much.”
They pulled me to sitting, and I sat there on those mats grinning like a fool.
“All I do is worry. Worry, worry, worry. And for what? What has it ever gotten me? I’m done worrying! And I want to try again!”
I leaped up and hopped back onto that bull to the roar of the crowd.
“One more time!” I called to the controller.
He smiled and tipped his cowboy hat, then hit the button to start the whole thing over.
The widows stepped back, their faces filled with awe and pride as I grabbed that bull and gave it everything I had.
And two seconds later, I was screaming through the air, once again landing in a tangled heap of limbs.
“I did it! I made it a whole turn!” I screamed with pride as I climbed to my feet.