Chapter 60 Punch and Cookies to Follow
Punch and Cookies to Follow
Connor
We check in at the main building, getting a curious look from the guard there.
He tells us the sock hop is for residents only, and I fib and say we promised to meet my grandpa here.
Grandpa used to tell me all sorts of stories about him wooing Grandma, so I know he would have been okay with the white lie if it meant I got to dance with my girl.
My girl. I know she isn’t technically, but she sure as hell feels like it.
Plus, we’re here, on a real date. That has to mean something.
I’ve still got Maize’s hand gathered in mine, and it feels so right. She looks up at me with shining emerald eyes. This wasn’t what she thought she was getting us into tonight, but I could truly care less. She’s beautiful, she’s here, and we’re going to have the best time no matter what.
When we get to the designated room, there is a sign on the door that says, “Sock Hop 6:30,” and underneath, “Punch and Cookies to follow.” It’s 6:45.
We’re a little late, mostly from having to check into the facility.
I open the door and gesture for Maize to precede me. I was raised a gentleman, after all.
When I follow her in, my face falls. There is a total of three people here: one sitting in a wheelchair—who appears to be asleep—and one couple dancing.
Or mildly swaying might be a better description.
A few streamers hang from the ceiling and a record player scratches through “Rock Around the Clock.” Even for a retirement home, I was expecting a little more than this.
I look to Maisie with scrunched brows, but she’s covering a laugh with her hand.
“What are you kids doing here?” Our attention is drawn to the man of the couple dancing.
“We came for the sock hop!” Maisie shouts. It echoes in the small room.
“I’m sorry, my hearing aid was turned down.” The man tinkers at his ear. “Can you repeat that?”
Maisie takes a few steps toward the man, dragging me by the hand behind her. “I said, we’re here for the sock hop.” This time, she enunciates each word in a tone he can hopefully hear better. I’m sure the wobbly music isn’t helping the matter.
“Oh! Well, isn’t that nice. Couple of youngin’s wantin’ a groove. Do you have a favorite? I’d be happy to play it. I’ve got all the records. Never sold a one of them. Came in handy since getting her, though, see? I’m Dick, and this here’s Doris.” He points to his female companion.
Maisie looks to me, and I search her eyes for signs of distress, but she seems…relaxed. “Pick a song,” she whispers. “This is in your wheelhouse, not mine.”
I drag a hand down my face and let out a coarse laugh, but I suppose we’re all in now. “How about ‘The Twist’?”
“Oh, my hip can’t move like that no more, but I’m happy to watch you two have a crack at it. Doris! ‘The Twist’!”
Doris shuffles over to the record player, next to which I notice a little crate set up on a simple table. She slowly filters through several records in the crate before pulling out what I assume to be “The Twist” in triumph. She switches out the record and lets the needle drop.
The familiar sounds of Chubby Checker fill the small space. This was one of Grandpa’s favorites. He said this was one he and Grandma liked to dance to when they would go out together, so it only felt fitting to share it with Maisie in this weird, albeit fun situation we’ve found ourselves in.
I take her hands and start to twist my hips to the rhythm of the song.
A belly laugh barrels out of her, and it’s music to my ears.
She follows suit, twisting her own hips.
I spin her around, and I think it catches her off guard because she nearly loses her balance, although maybe it’s her new shoes.
She’s usually so graceful, but here, right now, I can tell she doesn’t care how her body is moving; she’s just letting it flow, and I’m not sure she’s ever been more beautiful.
We finish out the dance, and Dick and Doris clap voraciously for us. The record starts the song over, but Maisie curtsies and says, “Thank you so much for having us, but I think I should get some fries and a milkshake in this one.” She points at me while making a funny face. “Don’t you guys think?”
The man sleeping in his wheelchair grunts awake and seethes, “Who are these people?” He’s clearly agitated, and I don’t want to provoke his wrath.
“You don’t want to stay for more?” Dick says disappointedly.
“We know you’re the superior dancers.” I go for charm. “We had our fun, but she’s right, I’m starving.” I rub my belly to punctuate the point.
The crotchety one chimes in, “Yeah, go on, get!”
“Jim, stop being so rude to our guests. They’re good folk,” Doris berates him, and he has the good sense to look sheepish.
“Well, stop by anytime!” Dick says with a wave. “Always nice to have young folk to talk to or dance with. Whatever you prefer.” He nods his head, and a pang thrums through my sternum.
Grandpa was my favorite person to talk to.
Maybe if I quit swimming, I would have time to stop by and talk with some of the residents here on occasion.
I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have moved from the home you owned into a place designed specifically for those who need extra care due to age.
It must be really difficult. Although it was hard to lose Grandpa so suddenly, I’m thankful he went out on his own terms, while he still had his autonomy.
Although I think he would have been close friends with Dick had he made it to a home.
“I certainly will, Dick. Thanks for the tunes. Those records really did come in handy.”
He beams, and I lead Maisie from the room and close the door behind us. I can barely hear the music on the other side. Now that we’re safely in the hall, we both burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe that was the sock hop I found online,” she says. “How did they even know to advertise it?”
“Must have been the activities coordinator or something. Definitely wasn’t Dick, Doris, or Jim in there.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder toward the door.
“I was serious about the fries and milkshake,” she says.
“Oh, I figured.” I bring our intertwined hands to my mouth and drop a kiss on the top of her hand.
“My Queen likes her ice cream in many forms. And fried snacks are the perfect accompaniment. Maybe they’ll even have root beer floats.
That would be the perfect Maisie trifecta.
” I let go of her hand, but only so I can wrap an arm around her waist as I lead us back through the building toward my car.
“It really would,” she sighs. “It really would.”
We “split” a root beer float and some fries at a cute soda shoppe near the retirement home. I hold her hand the whole time, and we laugh about anything and everything.
When we get back to her dorm room, it’s dark. Maize turns on the light to find a handwritten note from Angie saying she’ll be gone for the night.
“She’s such a weirdo sometimes.” Maisie laughs. “She could have just texted that, but she says sometimes things are better handwritten.”
I laugh, but there’s a ringing in my ears. I wasn’t expecting Angie to be gone. I don’t know if I can hook up with Maize again tonight. Now that I’ve had a taste of her trusting me with her heart, it all feels a bit too painful.
“Are you staying tonight?” she asks, looping her arms around my shoulders and pulling me in for a kiss.
I kiss her back and squeeze her hips. This is agony, but I say, “I had the best time with you tonight, Maize. And I want to stay more than you know, but I think I’m going to head back to my place tonight.”
She frowns. “Why?”
I rack my brain for the right words, but I come up empty. “You gave me a piece of your heart tonight, and I’m beyond grateful.”
I dip my head so we’re eye to eye, but her gaze bounces around, not wanting to meet my eyes. I sigh. She might bolt after this, but I have to keep being honest with her. She deserves it, and so do I.
“And I know we’ve already hooked up and spent the night together, but I think I need to leave tonight what it is.
You and me. Our first real date. I know I don’t have all of your heart, and I really promise that’s okay.
I’ll wait forever for you, Maize, but it’s hard for me to live in this middle ground.
For tonight, I need the little bit of separation between matters of the heart and what we do physically.
And please don’t mistake it; I love what we do physically.
Any other day, I promise we can make that happen. ”
I move to wrap her in a hug. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s practically a rag doll in my arms. Her arms hang loosely at her sides. Maybe I fucked up.
After a moment, she stiffens, her shoulders scrunching, and then she wraps her arms aggressively around my waist, holding me in one of the tightest hugs I’ve ever received.
“Okay,” she says and takes a step back. “I guess I can respect that. I don’t really understand it, and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt my feelings, but I’m glad you told me. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. You’re still my best friend.”
Friend. I want to be so much more. I honestly always have, but she doesn’t know that, and I know for sure she isn’t ready to hear it.
So, I say, “You’re mine too.” I give her one more chaste peck on the lips and head for the door.
Before I leave, she quietly calls out, “Connor?”
“Yeah?”
“I had a really great time with you tonight.”
“Me too, Betty, me too. I hope you have a good sleep.”
“You too. Good night, Connor.”
“Night, Maisie.”
As I close the door behind me, I’m left feeling two things: pride for being true to my wants and needs and agony for leaving her alone like this. Two things can be true simultaneously.
I head out of the dorm building into the starry night and walk until I’m too tired to feel anything at all.