Dawn of a New Day

"It really looks like Christmas out there," she said.

"Has it started snowing?"

"Been snowing for a while."

"Maybe I should cancel."

"Mom!" she scolded.

Shana had put my hair into a French braid that swept around my head and over my right shoulder. She ensured my perfume was appropriate and applied the subtle makeup she had planned so very carefully.

At last, I was ready.

Bundled in my heaviest winter coat with galoshes on my feet and a plastic scarf on my head, I was anything but sexy. But, as hard as it was snowing, I needed the protection. The snow was manageable at the moment, but it was still snowing, and I wondered about later.

It was only five or six miles to the hall where the party was being held, but the going was slow, with the streets covered and visibility very spotty. I was cautious and pulled into the parking lot, surprised at how many cars were already there.

I slogged to the door and, once inside, made my way to the coat room, where I exchanged my scarf for the heels and stuffed the plastic bag in one of the rubber boots.

"Dawn, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," I answered, nodding. Summer Fischer was one of our designers, and she and I got along very well. I was glad she'd made it to the party.

"You look spectacular."

"No brownie points tonight, Summer."

"Let's go inside and mingle." She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the big room with lots of tables surrounding a large dance floor with a well-stocked bar at one end.

"Can I sit with you guys?"

I did, and the dinner was delicious, the company entertaining, and I was glad I'd decided to attend the party. But, the night was young, and the wine was very good...and very plentiful, so I needed to pace myself.

It was a very mixed group with new college grads and a few near retirement, so I didn't envy the DJ.

I was talking and laughing with Summer, whose husband had been kind enough to fetch a glass of wine for me when I felt a gentle tap on my bare shoulder. I looked up to see a young but smiling face.

"Dance?" he asked.

My first impulse was to tell him I was forty and probably old enough to be his mother...but I didn't. Instead, I smiled.

"Love to," I said.

He took my hand, helping me stand, then led me to the dance floor, which was moderately full. Of course, I wondered where we were headed. It didn't take long to find out as, still holding my hand, his arm went around to my back, bare skin, of course, and, with a small space between us, we began to dance.

I was probably biased for some unknown reason, but I didn't expect someone his age to be able to foxtrot so smoothly. He received another smile.

"I've been in the building for about six months now, and I don't recall having seen you during that time."

My body felt like it was vibrating his voice was so deep and resonant. I wondered what it would be like if we were dancing closer.

"I'm out of the building quite a bit, but I'm with the furniture stores decorating group."

"I guess our times don't dovetail. I'm with the dance studio—I'm there in the evening much of the time."

That explained a couple of things...why we hadn't seen each other and why he was such a spectacular dancer. I'd always loved dancing and gliding around the floor with...I realized I didn't know his name.

"I'm Dawn."

"How poetic. It fits you."

His voice...his words...his dancing—if I were interested in a man, this was one that might provoke my interest. If I were interested...and if he wasn't so young.

"Thank you; you're very kind. And I certainly am enjoying dancing with you."

"Excellent, and likewise. Most of the time, when I dance with younger people, they don't have a clue. You're an exception."

As he spun me around, I was processing what he'd said, or at least trying to process it. Could what Shana'd been saying be true? Was I just too stubborn and blind to believe it? And maybe I should introduce him to Shana.

"And I'm Sonny," he said, interrupting my reverie.

One more spin and the music stopped.

"Thank you so much...and that's a gorgeous dress," he said as he led me to my table. A small bow, and he added, "I may come by again later. A big smile and he moved off across the room.

"Pleasant fellow," Glenda said, wiggling her eyebrows.

I knew exactly what she was thinking, so I cut off that line of thought.

"I'm thinking of introducing him to Shana. He's a wonderful dancer."

I finished my glass of wine and headed for the bar to get another. The wine was excellent, but I needed to be careful. I still had to drive home after the party.

"Hey, hon, remember to save the next slow dance for me."

I recognized Mitchell Reynolds' voice.

"I'll have to see, Mitchell," I answered as I felt his hand on my bare back. Everyone called him Mitch, but I refused to get even that familiar. As far as I was concerned, he was just a little weird.

"Wine? You should hit the harder stuff—it's free, you know."

Not very good reasoning as far as I was concerned.

"Whatcha doing after the party?" Mitchell asked, his hand now rubbing my back.

I twisted around and pushed his hand away.

"I'll be going home to sleep...and don't you say a thing," I warned him.

"Come on, Dawn. Loosen up and have some fun."

I just shook my head, turned, and headed back to my table. I hoped that Mitchell had gotten the message and would leave me alone. The next message, after two glasses of wine, would be much more clearly worded and spoken. And I wasn't saving the next slow dance for him.

We had fun and laughed a lot doing the Y-M-C-A dance.

I wore heels when I worked, small heels and the four-inch giants I was wearing, at Shana's insistence, were a continual challenge. I was proud of how well I was doing and thankful that I wasn't in pain.

When Sonny showed up again with the music much more upbeat, I was more than wary, not anxious to be humiliated...or worse.

"Just follow me," he said, brimming in confidence. I wished I could be the same.

On the dance floor, I was amazed. I followed him as best I could, which was better than I had imagined, and when I was lost, his hand on mine or on me somewhere else kept us looking like a polished pair. I definitely needed to have Shana meet him.

I'd reluctantly gotten a third glass of wine, confident the exercise and the passage of time were protecting me. It had been an unusually pleasant evening, and, surprisingly, I was reluctant to have it end. I had enjoyed the many "looks" I'd gotten during the evening and had tolerated the hands on my bare back, something I wasn't used to. Thank the lord, none had attempted to venture where they didn't belong.

Halfway through my glass of wine, I felt a hand on my bare shoulder. When I turned to see who it was, our eyes met, and his smile made me feel warm all over.

"Hello," he said, his voice matching the mile. "I have to admit I've watched you all evening, trying to work up the courage to ask you for a dance."

I didn't think I was entrancing enough to cause that kind of reaction, but the speaker was a distinguished-looking gentleman who wasn't at all familiar, and I guess I was flattered by what he'd said.

"I'm Jeffrey, and would you be kind enough to dance with me?"

"I'd love to. And I'm Dawn."

The night was nearly over, and this seemed to be a perfect way to end it, dancing with someone at least close to my age. Plus, he was a nice-looking guy without being overwhelmingly handsome. When he took my hand and led me to the dance floor, I was looking forward to a pleasant four or five minutes.

"I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you how lovely you are in that dress. Both you and the dress are very striking."

"Thank you so much. You'll make me blush with compliments like that."

He wasn't Sonny, but he'd certainly done some dancing.

"I don't recognize the perfume you're wearing, but it's..." His eyes met mine. "Well, It matches the rest of you...near perfection."

"Jeffrey, I'm far from near perfection."

"I apologize if I'm embarrassing you, but I'm just stating what I see and feel. I'll be quiet."

I wasn't sure I wanted that...I wasn't sure what I wanted. He didn't give the impression he was "hitting" on me. I guess he was just, I giggled to myself, being honest. Shana would jump up and down if she knew I'd had that thought.

Since it was near ending time for the party, the dance floor was full, everyone finishing a final dance. I was dancing closer to Jeffrey due to the reduced space, and when there was no one close, he smiled and spun me around.

It was then it happened.

I squealed loudly.

I learned later I'd stepped on the foot of another dancer. I just knew there was an excruciating pain in my right ankle, and I was on the floor, Jeffrey hovering over me, along with a big group just looking.

"What happened?" he asked, holding my hand.

"My ankle," I groaned.

"Should I call 9-1-1?" someone asked.

"No, no. I'm a doctor," Jeffrey assured them. "I'll take care of this."

He was pressing, pushing, and flexing my ankle, asking me questions with each movement, nodding at each of my answers.

"I'm Travis Charnock, the manager here. Is there anything I can do?"

Even I could tell that Travis seemed nervous. I'm sure the word "lawsuit" was rattling around in his head. I did notice the crowd was dispersing, leaving my fate in Jeffrey's capable hands.

"A couple of things. First, help me get her to the couch in the other room. Second, come up with a bag of crushed ice and a towel."

I was helped to stand, not using my right leg, and Jeffrey tucked his head under my right arm, and we walked to the couch, Jeffrey substituting for my right leg. I laid back against a thick pink pillow, but I was still grimacing from the pain. The ice bag appeared and was on my ankle, which I could tell was already very puffy.

"Listen," Jeffrey said. "I'd be the most surprised physician in the city if that ankle is broken. But, if you'd like, we can go to a hospital tonight and get it X-rayed."

"No, no. One day won't make any difference, and if I need to, I'll go tomorrow."

Jeffrey nodded his agreement.

"So, Dawn, did you drive yourself here tonight?"

"Yes, and if you can help me to my car, I'll go ahead and go home."

"Um, that's your right foot that's injured, and I don't think you'll be a very good left-foot driver. I'll take you home."

"No, no, I can't let you do that, Jeffrey. I'll manage."

"Please call me Jeff, and since I examined your ankle, I'm your physician of record for this injury, and I won't permit you to drive yourself home."

Despite the pain, I had to laugh at that.

"Please, Jeff, I can manage."

Travis appeared again...with a wheelchair. This should help get the lady to the door, but have you looked outside?"

"No, why?"

"There's probably six or eight inches of snow on the ground already, and If you're going to attempt to get home, you'd better get started."

Jeff helped me into the chair and wheeled me to the coat room, where I pointed out my coat. He helped gather it around me, and we headed for the door. When the door opened, my heart dropped.

"That's too much snow," I said.

"Not if we hurry. I'll bring my car up here and get you in. We'll get your car to you tomorrow. "

Before I could protest, he was clomping through the deep snow and was quickly back, his big black Mercedes causing me to smile.

He'd left the rear door open, and he came to the wheelchair, helped me stand on one leg as I wondered what he was going to do. Before I could protest, I was in his arms and headed for the car.

"Jeff," I squealed, but it was too late.

He slid me carefully into the back seat, ensured my ankle was properly positioned and was back around into the driver's seat.

"I'll need directions," he said, which I promptly relayed to him, and we were off, slowly for sure, but managing.

"How much is your ankle hurting?"

"It hurts, but having a baby was worse."

"I guess that's worse than most things," he said, laughing. "Seriously, though."

"I'll take a couple of Alieve when I get home. That should help some."

"We'll keep some ice on it until tomorrow, too."

We'll? Until tomorrow? What did that mean? He wasn't planning to stay...was he?

On the main street, there were deep ruts to follow, but when we turned onto the first side street, it looked as if a single car had passed. The next turn found an unblemished surface, as did the next two. Progress was slow, with a few tense moments of spinning tires, but we never stopped. Jeff seemed to be a very capable driver, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we turned into my cul-de-sac.

I pointed out my house, and Jeff headed for my driveway, it never occurring to me to warn him that the driveway sloped downward from the street. Too late, he saw it and tried to stop. The Mercedes slid slowly sideways until the front wheels clunked off the edge of the concrete.

"Shit. Sorry, Dawn."

It was clear Jeff's Mercedes wasn't going to move without help, and I doubted help would be coming tonight. It was snowing so hard the streetlights were just a glowing circle of white, and I couldn't see my front door. Jeff was looking at me from the front seat.

"No wheelchair," he said, smiling. "So, I'll carry you."

"No. I can't let you do that, particularly in this snow." I wasn't huge, but I was too heavy to be carried through deep snow. Maybe he could drag me in, like a dog sled or something.

"I'm the presiding physician in this, and my instructions are that Jeff, who you were dancing with at the time of your accident, SHALL carry you into your house."

"Jeff, please, no."

"I have the feeling I'm going to miss my gym session tomorrow, so this can replace it."

I sighed. It was becoming clear that I wasn't going to win this one, and I did want to get inside my house.

"Okay, I'll let you win this one, but only because I don't have other options."

With a big smile, Jeff climbed out and opened the rear door.

"I could have you climb onto my back," he said, smiling at me, "but the way you are dressed..." He paused. "And, quite honestly, the way you look, it's more appropriate that I carry you in my arms.

I tried to interpret the way he was looking at me, but to me, he still looked like a concerned doctor trying to make things easy for me. The thought struck me that I might be hiding from reality, but I dismissed it as I scooted close to the door.

Jeff bent and stooped, slid one arm under my legs and the other behind my back. Almost before I could get my arm around his neck, I was out of the car and in his arms. I clasped my hands together, once more noticing his cologne.

"Lighter than a feather," he said, looking at me from a foot away.

He kicked the car door shut.

"Suppose I should lock it?" he asked, a very serious look on his face as the snow swirled around us. His face transformed into a big smile. "Probably not."

The steps were nearly invisible, and I tried to recall how many there were. I'd never paid attention to that detail. Jeff navigated them flawlessly, however, and although I'd anticipated nervousness and a bit of fear, I felt totally secure in his arms.

He lowered me slightly so I could punch in the key code for the front door.

We were inside.

"Where to?"

"The family room," I said, pointing. "But put me down, and I'll hop there."

"There'll be no hopping as long as I have you in my arms."

He carried me to the family room. I don't think Sal had ever carried me around the house.

"Is the couch good?"

"Perfect."

I was carefully deposited and arranged.

"Where are the zip locks, and does the refrigerator have crushed ice?"

I heard that rumbling, crunching sound from the kitchen, and Jeff was back in two or three minutes. Pillows were arranged and covered with a plastic garbage bag, and my now very swollen ankle was on the elevated area. A thin tea towel covered my ankle, and a one-gallon bag of crushed ice surrounded it, covered by the other end of the towel.

"You're very efficient."

"Lots of experience but not usually with people dressed as you are." He looked around, spotting a throw on the back of a chair.

I was quickly covered.

Jeff knelt beside the couch. "How is it?"

"Well cared for."

"You know what I mean," he responded, chuckling.

"Still hurts some, but better than it was. This is going to be a long process, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. You need to get with your family doctor as soon as you can.

"Okay," I said questioningly.

He smiled. "I'm an ER doctor, to answer your question.

I hadn't asked a question, but he had seen it in my face. Jeff was proving to be an interesting guy.

He found the remote and flipped on the TV. With what was happening outside, weather reports were easy to find. And, it didn't take long to find they were expecting another fourteen to sixteen inches of snow...maybe more.

"Looks like you're going to have a house guest."

I was sure Shana would love to hear that.

"Holy crap."

"What's wrong?"

"My purse is in the back seat of the car...with my cellphone."

"Got it," Jeff said, and he did in only about thirty seconds.

I'd switched the phone off at the party, and when I turned it on, I had six missed calls from Shana. I called her.

"Mom, what's going on? Are you alright?"

"Yes and no. I'm home, but I fell at the party and sprained my ankle."

"Mom! Did you get it X-rayed?"

"No, with all the snow, I just wanted to get home. But there was a doctor there who took care of it."

"Thank goodness for that. Did you have any trouble driving home?"

I took a deep breath. She'd find out eventually. I smiled at Jeff.

"No. Dr. Jeff drove me home since it was my right ankle."

A slight pause and a very different tone of voice.

"Dr. Jeff?"

"Yes, and he's an ER doctor, so I'm very fortunate."

"Mom, that sounds great. Any future plans?"

I decided to surprise her. "Yes, he's spending the night."

"Mom, that's wonderful. I knew that dress would get results."

"He's stranded, Shana. He has no choice. His car slid off the edge of the driveway. And they're expecting more than a foot of snow on top of what's already down."

"He may be there more than overnight, Mom." She giggled.

I hadn't considered that. "I have plenty of food," I replied lamely.

"You have more than food I'm sure he'd enjoy."

"Shana! Wash your mouth with lye soap."

That brought a laugh from both Shana and Jeff, who I was sure had figured out where our conversation was going. I knew my face had turned bright red.

"Good luck, Mom," she said, accompanied by another giggle.

I ended the conversation.

"Sounds like a daughter," Jeff said, smiling at my still-red face.

"A nosy and pushy daughter."

"You are very lucky to have one that's interested."

"She is that. Do you have children?"

"No," he said, a pensive expression on his face. "Never been married," he added.

His personal life was none of my business, so I let that drop.

He stood. "Would you like to get into something a little more comfortable, although I love that dress?"

"That would make sense." I could change here in the family room, but then Jeff would have to root through my clothes and ...ugh. Or, he would insist on carrying me to my room. The way he was looking at me, I was sure he was reading my mind.

"I'll carry you to your room. It's late, and you may just want to turn in. I'll bed down on the couch."

"You'll do no such thing," I said as sternly as I could, with him scooping me up and starting toward the bedroom.

"No, no, that's fine. I'm used to that kind of thing."

I noticed that, as he carried me, the dress had separated at the split, and my left leg was exposed nearly to those red and lacy panties. Hanging onto his neck, it was impossible to straighten it, so I guess he'd be treated to a view of my leg.