Chapter 1

                                                       2011

    Alice Shea was happy.  It was Saturday night, and she was going dancing.

   “The parking lot is pretty full,” Dan said, as they approached Straight Shooters, the popular North Houston Country & Western nightspot they had been frequenting for the past two years. 

   “I reserved us a table, “Alice said.  “So did you get all your reports turned in?”

   “Yes, I’m all good ‘til Monday,” Dan said, “but they’re sending me out again—Louisiana. I just found out this afternoon.“

   “I hate that about your job,” Alice said.

   “Well, considering the recession-- and I’m not getting any younger.  I ‘m grateful that I even have a job,” Dan lamented.  “I had six months of unemployment in the last two years. When I took this job, I was under the impression that I would be in town more, but they seem to sending out of town every week now. I’m not going to complain.  Maybe week after, they’ll have me back in town.”

   The tall, lean sixty year-old salesman of restaurant equipment, swung his F-150 into an open space, and shut off the engine. “Have you got your boots?”

   “Yes,” she said.  She took her wallet out of her purse. “Here, let me give you some money to cover my drinks.“  She gave him a twenty. 

   “That’s too much,” he said.  He fished around in the pockets of his wranglers and pulled out his money clip.  “Here’s a ten,” he said. 

   “Have you got everything?  Cuzzi?  Handkerchief?” she asked.

   “Yes, I’m ready,” he said.  “Let me get the door for you.”  Dan exited the pickup and walked around to open her door. 

   Alice looped her boot carrier over her forearm. Dan took her hand and eased her down onto the pavement. He sized up her outfit; mauve western skirt worn mid-calf, beaded white satin top with cutouts on the shoulders and rings over the shoulder blades that held it all together, and a studded western belt hitched on one of her generous hips at an angle. Her medium blonde hair was in a flip and she had silver chains and bracelets adorned with a multitude of colored glass baubles. “You look fabulous, Ms. Shea.” He said with a smile.

   “You look pretty good yourself, Mr. Anderson,” She responded back.  “I’m wearing my new boots tonight. I bought them at Country Dance Fest in Austin last week.”

   “Great!  Shall we, then?”  Dan put his arm around her and they turned and headed for the door.

 

   Straight Shooters was the primary watering hole for the C&W lovers of North Houston. Paneled in rough-hewn pine and decorated with neon beer signs, pool tables, coin-operated games of skill and five bars, the popular spot smelled of stale cigarette smoke, dried beer stains and occassional wafts of cologne. In the center of it all, was the well-worn hardwood dance floor, laid out racetrack fashion with rails lining both inside and outside, with openings every fifty feet for dancers to enter and exit. Inside the infield was a bar and several tables.

The crowd was a mix of young and old, traditional and contemporary. The young men, more often than not, wore their cross-emblazoned shirts with their tails out. The older men still wore the multi-colored, yoked western shirts of yesteryear, starched and tucked with western belts, roper jeans and cowboy hats. The young ladies favored artfully weathered and aged tight jeans with cleavage baring tops. Some wore skin-revealing club wear. Their primary accessory was their cell phone which they referred to frequently as evidenced by the glow of the liquid crystal screen on their faces as they sent and received messages. The mature ladies dressed casually for the most part with some favoring the traditional flowing broom skirts that could fly into a saucer shape with a pop when the lady was spun and stopped. Cowboy boots were the common denominator.

   Likewise, the music was a mix of new and old. Country and Western standards, mostly from the 80’s and 90’s, shared space with contemporary C&W hits as well as a few contemporary club dance songs from the Disco and Pop genres.

   Inside, Dan turned to Alice.  “I’ll get you a drink.”

   “Our table is over there,” Alice said, pointing to a railed platform beyond the DJ booth.

   Dan went towards the bar while Alice went to the table marked with her name on a card attached to a foot-high metal stand. She removed her street shoes and pulled on her new tan leather dance boots. About the time she finished, Dan arrived with his customary Miller Lite and her Vodka and Seven-up with a twist on the rocks.

   No sooner than he sat down on the comfy, cushioned seats, a short man in a cowboy hat walked up. “Alice, how about a dance?”

   “Later, Ed,” she said, smiling. She turned to Dan. “That’s a guy from the Wednesday night class. Roy does two mini-classes of 30 minutes each. The first class is Basic Two-Step and then he does West Coast, East Coast or Waltz. They’re five dollars a class, but they’re mostly beginner and intermediate. I’ve just been taking them for something to do.”

   The music changed to a new up-tempo two-step.  “Well, let’s dance to that one," Dan said.  

   He led Alice to the corner entry and they stepped onto the hardwood. He took her shoulder and connected to her right hand with his left, pushed forward with two timing steps and began moving her down the line. After a few basic turns, he put Alice into square-off and then double-turned her out. Changing his grip to right-to-right, he gave her an outside turn to a two-arm shoulder drop. After two measures, he lead her in a sweetheart wrap and then spun her into basic dance position going down the far side of the floor.

   “I love that move,” she said, smiling.  “You’re the only one who does it.”

   “We learned that in Melody’s class,”  Dan said.   “Remember?”

   They danced to two more songs, and then exited the floor.

   An attractive brunnete with long, flowing hair approached them, smiling. “Alice, I heard about your dance competition last week. Congratulations!”

   “Oh, thanks,” Alice said, giving her a hug.

The lady in stylish western wear and alligator boots turned to Dan. She gave him a huge hug. “Dan, good to see you. Where have you been?”

   Dan enjoyed her soft embrace, the quick look down her blouse, and the smell of her perfume for a brief second. “They have had me out of town for three weeks in a row, now.  It’s good to see you.”

  Both Alice and Dan greeted other dancers as they made their way back to their table. They took their seats. Dan blotted the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief, then took a long pull on his Miller Lite.

   Theo Malvern, one of the Wednesday night dance instructors approached the table. “Alice, I heard a rumor that you were married to Denny Taylor, “he said.

   Alice looked back at him with a half-smile and half-frown, then shook her head.  

   Dan looked at her with an expression of surprise, not quite sure of what he had heard. The conversation apparently hit an awkward silence. Theo, apparently sensing his blunder, turned and disappeared. 

   Alice took a sip of her drink. “That’s Theo. He teaches the beginner’s class on Wednesday night.”

   Dan, poker-faced, nodded.  He was not quite sure what to make out of what he had just heard. He had never forbid Alice from going out dancing alone while he was gone. He had to work, and she loved to dance. He had always trusted that she was not trying to hook-up with other men, but in the space of one-hour, two men that he barely knew, had upset his neat and tidy relationship that had endured for five years.

   What to do about it was a different matter. She was attractive and a fantastic dancer. Many men wanted her both for dancing and romancing.  She had seemed to always be able to draw that line where she could maintain friendships with other men, yet not let it cause problems. He also had women who let it be known to him that they would love to be in a relationship with him. A dance with another woman was a three-minute love affair, where the two could hold each other close, touch each other and enjoy the fantasy of romance for a brief moment without the messy complications of adultery. The ending of the song, knowing smiles, and a polite yet tender hug shared, two friends would then return to their real lives, comforted that they were still desired and loved.

   Dan had for the most part managed to keep the flirtations on a safe level.  On one occasion, after he showed some familiarity to a lady who seemed to like him, he had to endure days of anger and ire from Alice because he seemed to know the lady a little too well. Their time apart, she at dance competitions in distant cities, and he on the road working, complicated the situation with the meeting of new people who did not immediately know of their long-term relationship. But come Monday morning, he was back on the road. Tonight would be there only time together for another week. He did not pursue the matter.  “I like that song,” Dan said as he stood and offered his hand.  “Let’s dance.” 

Alice nodded and stood to join him. They crossed the aisle, stepped onto the floor and worked their way into the throng, circling the track around to a triple-time beat. Though Dan had said nothing, Theo had raised an unsettling question that caught her unprepared. She did her best to hide the empty feeling that had settled into her stomach. She had never lied to Dan about the marriage which took place nearly fifty years ago. After all, she hadn’t married Denny Taylor, internationally known singer and actor. She married Dennis Taylor, a college kid who played guitar in a local band…