The community center gymnasium smelled of floor wax and lukewarm cider.

Yellow light streamed from the overhead fluorescent fixtures, casting long shadows on the wooden floor.

A slow, quiet waltz played from the dusty speakers near the stage.

Harold’s hand on my waist was warm and steady.

“You are doing wonderfully, Eleanor,” he said.

His voice was low, barely louder than the recorded violins.

I looked down at our shoes, watching my sensible black pumps try to follow his lead.

It had been two years since my husband, Arthur, died in our bedroom.

This was the first time I had let another man hold my hand.

“I feel a bit foolish,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on his collar.

“Do not,” Harold said.

He smiled, and the deep wrinkles around his eyes softened.

“We are just two people learning how to walk again, Eleanor.”

I looked toward the back of the room, near the refreshment table.

My daughter, Rachel, had promised to drop by, but her chair remained empty.

Instead, the heavy double doors at the entrance banged open.

The cold November wind swept inside, rustling the green crepe paper decorations on the walls.

I looked up and saw my son, David.

His dark winter coat was unzipped, and his face was flushed red from the cold.

He walked straight toward the middle of the dance floor, his boots thudding loud on the polished wood.

“Mom,” David said.

His voice was sharp enough to cut through the music.

Several of the elderly couples stopped dancing to look at us.

“David, what are you doing here?” I asked.

I stepped back from Harold, my face burning with sudden heat.

“I went to the house, and Rachel told me you were out,” David said.

He glared at Harold, his fists clenched tight at his sides.

“She said you were here, but I didn’t believe her.”

He stepped closer, his breathing heavy in the quiet room.

“This is disrespectful to Dad’s memory, Mom.”

“David, please,” I said, reaching out to touch his sleeve.

He pulled his arm away quickly, his eyes wide with a strange, desperate anger.

“It has only been two years,” he said, his voice trembling.