Max has been feeling down lately. I thought it might be the thought of the upcoming holidays. He was not in the kitchen, not in his study, not in the bedroom taking a nap. I found him on the terraza languid on a chaise lounge behind a potted palm.
I sat next to him. “Max, dear,” I asked noticing the drained look on his face, “whatever is the matter?”
He sighed and looked at me, his eyes troubled. “I’m bored,” he said, making little circles on the arm of the chair with his finger.
Max sighed and looked at me, his eyes troubled. “I’m bored,” he said, making little circles on the arm of the chair with his finger.
“You? Bored? Ha! You’ve always found something to interest you! If a project isn’t tossed at you, you always find something to keep you interested!”
He sighed again. His head lolled to one side. “I need something completely different in my life.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Scuba diving? Bungee jumping? Zip lining?”
He chortled. “You know me better than that! However, it should be something athletic. Something to keep me from turning into a lounge muffin.”
“We tried skating,” I said, remembering our adventure at the ice rink just a few weeks ago.
He rolled his eyes. “Less demanding yet still athletic.”
“You obviously have something in mind.” Sometimes I had to wheedle his thoughts out of him.
He unfolded his laptop and typed in the YouTube search bar.
I got up and looked over his shoulder.
He said, his fingers tapping the keys, “I still have a few embers burning and passion is not dead.”
I blushed. What was he searching for?
“Ah …… There it is!”
The title of the video read: “Tango lessons for beginners.”
“Whew!” I said, pretending to mop my brow. “You had me worried.”
We watched a tall, slender, sinuous couple dance across the screen. “Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow,” the man was saying as he guided his partner dressed in very high heels and a slit skirt, backwards.
They dipped and swayed looking into each other’s eyes as if they had fire in their hearts.
Max pointed to the screen. “We can do that.”
“How romantic, Max,” I said, bending to give him a kiss.
The next day we signed up for lessons.
At our first class, we met our fellow students: Isabella and Guy, a couple in their twenties, Frank and Gracie in their early 80’s, Carl and Herbert in their 70’s. Herbert would be the partner dancing backwards. Everyone wore enticing dance costumes.
Max and I wore athletic shoes, sweat pants, and T- shirts. We definitely stood apart.
Rodrigo, the instructor, wearing tight black pants, a black satin shirt open at the neck, and black dancing shoes with small heels, looked us up and down. He smirked. “This is a passionate, sensual, erotic, steamy dance of the soul between two lovers. We dress to show our sultriness.”
Our outfits were the first faux pas but by no means the last.
Max and I had danced together before but what steps we didn’t know, we made up. This was our first attempt at following a pattern.
Rodrigo put the music on. We all started to move. Here we go. Lift off!