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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1997906-Now-that-Summers-Here
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1997906
A way to celebrate summer.
“I have a great idea for a summer get-together,” said Arthur Lafitte confidently, holding a glass of Gettysburg white wine in one hand and a lollipop in the other. 

Claudette Lafitte, Arthur’s better half, looked at him with pained impatience.  She nudged aside a crate of CDs and books near the edge of the couch and sat down. 

“Shall I beseech you now, Arthur,” Claudette lowed, “Or shall I wait for a drum roll?

Arthur chuckled, licked his lips and then threw back the last few drams of Gettysburg white.

“I say, my sweet, that we should have a dance get-together!  Dance, I say,” and Arthur did a little side step dance as he set his wine glass on the glass coffee table.

Claudette’s eyes were question marks, and they were duly noted by Arthur.

He also noticed a slight flush in her delicate, round face, and as she opened her mouth to speak, Arthur jumped in front of her.

“Hear me, my pet!  Summer is here, the days are long, yes? 

“Yes, Arthur, the days are long.”

“All right then, since we have all this extra daylight, let’s have a dance party!  Don’t you think that’s a good idea!  We can dance the evening away, and dance into the night.  Folks would find that appealing, yes?”

Claudette had vowed to abstain from any alcohol, yet she was overtaken by the sudden attack of anxiety--although she wasn‘t quite sure why.  What she did know was that she needed a drink.  So, while eying Arthur narrowly, she poured a bit of Gettysburg white in her blue Coney Island mug from which Earl Gray tea had served and given its all. 

“Sounds interesting,” Claudette said evenly, a twinkle in her now widened eyes.  “Continue.”

Arthur, taken aside by his wife’s succinct yet direct request, straightened as if a sudden surge of electricity zeroed in on his lumbar vertebrae.  Then, regaining a modicum of composure, he summoned further, plaintive plea:

“O Claudette, listen to me!  We can invite our friends and play music and dance. And here‘s more--since it will be a dance party, we can emphasize songs with, “Dance" in the titles.  And there are so many to choose from--Dance the Night Away, All She wants to do is Dance, Dancing Queen, ah the list is almost endless!  A good idea, yes?

Claudette sat back on the plush, blue couch, slipped off her size six New Balance walkers and put her feet up on the coffee table. She arched back her delicate shoulders and pointed her cute, periwinkle sock-covered toes toward Arthur in a way that would have made any synchronized swimming team proud.

“To tell the truth, Arthur, it’s not a bad idea.” Claudette said evenly, her French accent suddenly more pronounced, as if the villages of Brittany hung on each syllable.

“Give me a hug, Arthur,” and she set her mug on the table next to a book by John Grisham.

“O my sweet,” and the two engaged in a late morning longing amid the incessant hammering of a next door roofing project and the televised cacophony of The Price is Right.

__________________________________________________


It was a happy dance cookout with abundant sunshine, low humidity, hot dogs, hamburgers, a large jar of olives and French bread.  Music was played from laptop computers--the get-together was, “BYOC” which meant “bring your own computer.”  Turns out that Windows Media Player came through in that not only was there plenty of music apropos for dance, but many “Dance” title songs were available from the plethora of hard drives, such as Let’s Dance, and Last Dance with Mary Jane

And so the party was imminently successful.  Arthur was seen to do a little dance when he thought no one was looking.  The light of day lingered; fresh breezes wafted in from a not too distant crop of tall pines fronting a state park reservoir. 

As the sun began to set, Arthur found Claudette leaning against a makeshift pine-log fence.  Arthur‘s smile was warm and sincere as he came face-to-face with his wife.

“May I have this dance?  O, My sweet Claudette, check that--allow me to be more poetic; shall we dance the night away?”  And the two embraced amid the revelry of all in attendance.

The sun had set, and as a slow, romantic song played on, the Lafitte’s were seen dancing in the moonlight.


730 Words
Writer’s Cramp
June 26, 2014

Requirements:
--lollipop
--crate
--jar
--fence


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