Forever Again, Short Story, Chapter 2

      Chapter 2

         Bret had not had a downward spiraling day. He had eaten a small breakfast, ran three miles on the beach and it had rained. He worked on two of the beta computer games he was checking out for the company he contracted web design through. Neither one of them held his interest. Now he stood in the dressing room of the club getting ready to put on another Friday night show.
         Bret was an excellent dancer, had been all of this life. He also liked to dance and make women in general happy with his moves. A friend introduced him to the club scene and he enjoyed it so much he continued to work Thursday, Friday and Saturdays nights as a dancer. As he pulled on his leathers and made small talk with the others, his mind kept returning to the dream he had the night before. It was a dream he had often. There was a girl, who he danced with somewhere near a beach, in a house, in a ballroom, on a roof and down a street. In all the dream sequences, he could never get a clear picture of her face, at least not one that held in his brain when he woke up. The only thing that stood out were her eyes. They were absolutely gorgeous, light brown and almond shaped. When the girl laughed her eyes laughed and had small creases at the corners. Those butterscotch brown eyes sparkled. If the powers that be were trying to give him a message, all he knew was he had to look for those eyes.
         "Okay listen up guys, we only have one birthday in the club tonight." Darik always checked with the waiters to see if they could come up with someone special. "She's an older lady, sitting at the front table near center stage. She is with two cuties who have been here before. Apparently our birthday girl has never been to a review. Take a look and let me know who would be willing to give her a little extra attention during your single's set. Ten minutes until curtain. Have fun and enjoy yourselves." Darik gave them a small salute and headed to the back of the stage.
         Bret checked the mirror on his table and settled his hat making sure the curls of his hair peaked out the bottom. He had been told more than once that it looked sexy. As he fixed his pants, so they rode low on his hips, he listened to the entry music start. They made their way behind the curtain and took their positions. Bret liked this set. He had worked with the others to choreograph the moves so it was provocative and had some fancy foot work.
         The lights on the other side of the thin black curtain went down. Darik fired two blank shots behind the stage and the spot lights that would put them in shadow came on behind them. The DJ started the drums and the gaiters. The electric excitement climbed. This was a mental and physical high to his system. The black film thick curtain rose and they strutted forward. Their Stetson hats were pulled low, shadowing their down turned faces. All of them had learned a long time ago how to work the room. Each of them would be checking out the table down front, as soon as they could to see who wanted to do a one on one with the birthday girl. Darik would want volunteers to show the special lady attention.
         Halfway through the steps, each of them would be turning from facing the back of the stage to the front. Bret was the fifth one to turn. They threw their hats behind them, allowing them to survey the room. Bret did his quick pivot, casually looking out over the crowd. While staying in step, Bret found the table were the lady sat. His eyes locked with hers causing one of the very few missteps he had ever had happen when he dancing.  The eyes in his dream were staring back at him. They weren't from either of the young woman but the older lady. She had to be late fifties. Pretty for her years. Those eyes only held for a brief time before sliding away. The lady was submissive. In order for Bret to not mess up the routine anymore he had to  concentrate. Exiting the stage, he knew he had to get a better look at the birthday lady.  His head was reeling with questions.
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         As the men left the stage, Lily let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. Slowly, everything came into focus, and she rubbed her hands trying to get them to stop shaking. Looking at her nieces, saw they were both staring at her. "Well that was interesting wasn't it?" Reaching for her wine she drained the glass.
         Magie refilled it. "Aunt Lily what just happened?  Here you better eat something," she continued pushing the hors d'oeuvres closer to her.
         "I think we would both like to know the answer to that question," Kerry added leaning closer.
         "What?" Lily started, but the look on both girls faces told her she was going to have to give them more. "Oh all right." Lily reached into the small clutch purse and pulled out a two inch by three inch delicately carved white ivory case. Carefully she folded it out and laid it on the table. Inside was a worn picture of her deceased husband. He had died thirty years earlier but Lily had the picture chemically treated so it wouldn't fade. Lily pulled her hands back and picked up her glass of wine. Sipping the wine she watched the girls over the brim of the glass for their reactions.
         Both girls leaned in, but it took some long moments before the reason Lily was upset hit them. Maggie whistled softly and Kerry quietly whispered, "Wow, that is just way too cool. That's Uncle Mike right?"
         Lily nodded. Mike had passed before either of them had been born but the family was close and her and Mike's pictures were in many places and homes. "Yes, your Uncle Mike was very special to me," she said as she gingerly touched the picture. Carefully, she put the case back in her clutch. "I'm not sure we should stay. I'm not sure I can sit and watch the man dance. Your Uncle liked to dance. He danced when we went out. He danced at home for just our entertainment."
         "Oh no, Aunt Lily." Kerry reached out and grabbed her hand. "We are definitely staying. You need this. Let your dreams come true even for a little bit. We will be here for you." Magie nodded.
         Lily took another sip of her wine and looked back and forth between the two girls. Then she looked to the spot where the man had left the stage. Making a decision, she nodded and picked up some of the food. "All right then." Raising her glass she said, "Here's to dreams."
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         Bret stepped off to the side of the stage and peered back into the room through the small windows which on the lounge side looked like part of a row of decorative mirrors. They were really one-way mirrors so the employees could watch the patrons. There were ten minutes before Martin did his bad boy routine. The breaks allowed the waiters to take and deliver refreshed orders. The females at the table his eyes were glued to started talking. The older lady rubbed her hands  as if they were cold and then reached out draining her wine glass. One of the younger girls refilled it immediately and pushed one of the dishes of snacks closer to the older woman.
         Bret wished he could hear what the women were saying. Leaning his hand on the wall above the mirrors he continued watching. His attention was drawn to her eyes. The eyes in his dreams. When she smiled it surrounded her eyes. There was sadness there also. A sadness which made him want to go to the table, hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine.
         The woman pulled a small white box from her purse and laid it gingerly on the table. When the younger girls leaned in their faces showed surprise. Whatever was in that box was good. Her fingers lightly glazed over the contents. He bet it was a picture.
         After a few moments, she picked the small box up and carefully put it back in her purse. The younger girls reached over and gave her hugs. She looked up at where he had left the stage and Bret's body went tight. All the blood in his brain went south to below his belt. He knew she would not know he was there but their eyes met. She put her hand on her lips as he threw her a kiss.
         When a light blinked behind him, he stepped back and found Darik checking his phone. The Bartender would be texting him about one of the patrons. All the waiters had been trained to ask questions which would give them information about the clientele. Bret took the chance the information was about the woman at the table. He crossed his arms over his chest saying, "She is mine, Darik."
         "Peter already said she was his," Darik shot back never looking up from his phone.
         "Tell Peter she is mine. He can have anything I make in tips off the dance, but the woman in mine." Bret wasn't going to give up. He had to be the one to dance for her.
         Darik looked up and stared, then nodded. "Since you are going to take the spot I have some information." Darik looked back at his phone and shot his finger across the screen. "Her name is Lily; she is 60 today; this is her first time at a review. She is also a widow and probably has been for a while. The girls are her nieces." Darik put his phone away but didn't leave. "Bret she is a nice lady according to my reports. Take it slow and don't push until after you've had time to read her."
         "Sure thing boss, take it slow and no touchy-feely. Now I have to go and get dressed." Bret walked to the dressing room contemplating what dance to perform. He was scheduled to do a fireman's routine, but he was considering changing it. The woman was more of an "Officer and a Gentlemen" type. He would be willing to take odds she had watched the movie more than once and cried every time at the end. He passed Martin coming out of the dressing room and gave him the customary high five. Standing in front of his locker, Bret looked around. "Hugh, I need to trade tonight. I have our birthday girl and I want to use the Navel Officer routine."
         "You were up for the firefighter routine right?" Not waiting for an answer he continued, "Sure man I'll trade. You do that routine better than me anyway."
         Bret smiled. "Thanks." Turning to his locker, he took out the costume pieces he needed. Martin would be about fifteen to twenty minutes depending on the crowd. Add to that the ten minute intermission would give him at least another fifteen. Before he started to change, he went to the back wall and used the house phone to let the disk jockey know he had switched routines. Slowly he dressed, running through the possible dance moves he could use. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized this was going to be fun and he was going to get his fill of looking into those eyes, the eyes in his dreams. Maybe, the dreams would make some sense if he could touch her.