My job provides me with a great excuse to put my personal life on hold. Our biggest event of the year, a black-tie gala attended by city dignitaries and the press, is approaching, and attending to its details fills most of my waking moments.
Many of our events are cocktail and hors d'oeuvre type functions, but this one includes not only a cocktail reception, but dinner, video presentations, multiple speeches, dancing, jam-packed swag bags, and more.
When the big night arrives, I'm feeling confident but vigilant. I know everything's been well-planned, but you never know when there'll be a glitch. For the majority of the night I'm busy, making sure things stay on schedule and go smoothly. Midway through dinner, I check to make sure the band is set up and ready. After dessert, it's time for dancing, and I finally allow myself to relax a little. At this point in the evening, replenishing bar supplies is typically all I really have to worry about.
I stand to the side of the action, where I watch couples head to the dance floor, admire gowns, and think about how the night has gone and what my boss will have to say about it on Monday morning. Toward the front of the room I see her dancing with her husband, and I take it as a good sign that she appears to be enjoying herself.
I'm about to make rounds of the room when someone is suddenly at my side, a broad-shouldered man in a black tuxedo.
"Hello, I'm William Taylor," he says, extending his hand.
"Hi. Kate Randall." I take in the man's strong jaw, tanned skin, and closely clipped hair. My hand is already in his before I realize who I'm looking at. It's Billy. I quickly scan the length of his body to take him all in, from his polished shoes, to his expertly fitted formal wear, to the haircut that seems to change the angles of his face and make him almost unrecognizable.
"Billy?" I know it's him, but his name pops out of my mouth like a question. He has the slightest hint of a smile on his face, as if he knows how good he looks. And he does look good. "What are you doing here?" I ask.
We stop shaking hands, but he keeps hold of mine for an extra few seconds. "I'm here to apologize, and to prove you wrong."
"Apologize? What could you possibly have to apologize for?" I'm still staring at him in disbelief. He doesn't look like Billy, but he looks perfectly in place at this gala.
"Dance with me," he says, holding out his hand again in invitation.
I scan the room, almost out of habit, as if to make sure no emergencies require my attention. When I look back at Billy, I see that his slight smirk has been replaced by an earnest expression.
I put my palm in his and he squeezes my hand in a way that fills me with comfort. My thoughts of him have been so filled with pain and regret, but somehow the warm pressure of his hand surrounding mine makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.
He leads me to an uncrowded section of the dance floor, and when we stop he puts his other hand on the small of my back and gently pulls me close.
He smells wonderful, like my very best memory, and I sink into the pleasure of being surrounded by his strong arms once again. We dance in silence for a few minutes, though the heat of his hand on my back and the way he continues to squeeze my hand in his, communicate a lot.
"Billy, I'm so sorry—" I start.
"No, Kate. I'm sorry. I got upset the last time we were together, and I shouldn't have run out without letting you talk."
"I never, ever, meant to make you feel like you were anything less than a wonderful man," I say.
"I know you weren't trying to put me down. I realized afterward that I have my own insecurities, and I put those on you. I'm sorry for getting angry."
Just then the music picks up tempo and Billy spins me away from him, and then pulls me in even closer. The country boy has a little Fred Astaire in him!
"Now for the part where I prove you wrong,” he says.
I'm cradled in his strong arms as we dance, and I realize how much I've been missing this.
"I don't believe you know me well enough yet to say that we're so different from one another. But I think we have something special going on between us, and it would be dumb for us not to find out how right we could be together."
He spins me again, and I have to admit I'm dazzled by his dancing skills.
"And though I know you weren't putting me down, I do believe you judged me by appearances. We all do that. Hell, men judge women by how they look all the time."
"But you didn't need to change for me," I say, again taking in his altered appearance.
"I haven't changed for you, Kate. I just got cleaned up for tonight."
"You clean up gorgeously," I say, reaching up to touch the close-trimmed hair by his ear. "But I like you dirty too. Muddy even." I run my fingers over his cheek, remembering our mud fight at the farm.
He grabs my hand and brings my fingers to his lips, kissing them briefly.
"I also believe that if we give it a try and find out we're perfect for each other, our parents would want us to be happy. They found happiness together. Why wouldn't they want that for us too?"
I think about all this while we continue to dance. The band plays a slower song; Billy pulls me close and it's hard to think about anything except how my body feels against his. There is something here, something between us. I've tried to deny it so many times, but it's real. I've tried to forget him, I've tried to date other guys, but deep inside I've always known that it was different with Billy.
"I'll admit you're making a good case, Mr. Taylor. But how do you see us carrying on a long distance relationship?"
"Oh, I think we can handle that," he says. "It's only about a ten-minute drive from my apartment to yours."
When I voice my surprise, he quickly continues, "And before you go thinking I’ve changed for you, and moved for you, I need to tell you that this is something I've been thinking about for a long time. I never intended to stay at my dad's place for so long, and now that Rebecca— your mom, is there with him and Tommy, I finally feel okay about leaving."
"You live here now?" This is even harder to wrap my head around than his new look.
"I do, and I could sure use someone to show me around."
My mouth is open to say something, but I close it. We dance, and I process all he's told me. I savor the feeling of his body against mine as I think about spending nights and weekends with him. I think about walks in the parks, restaurants I'd like him to try, things I want to show him at the museum. I think of more private activities we'll be able to frequently enjoy. I think about buying bigger living room furniture, and definitely, a bigger, sturdier bed.
Epilogue
One Year Later
We sit beside each other at the big farm table now when we visit my mom and George. Billy still antagonizes me, touching my leg or whatever else he can reach under the table, while I pretend there’s nothing going on. Sometimes I do the touching, and do my best to make him squirm.
Telling my mom that we were dating didn’t turn out to be as scary as I’d thought. She and George were surprised, but they were not at all displeased. In a private conversation, she asked me to be careful not to hurt Billy, and that if things didn’t work out between us, we needed to remember to treat each other with respect and do our best to remain friends. Billy later told me that his dad had a similar conversation with him.
A few months after moving into his apartment, Billy got a job at the city equestrian center. I’d never even known there was such a place! He gives riding lessons to kids and helps to care for the horses that are boarded there. He’s adapted to city living quite well, but we talk about moving to the suburbs someday, where we could still have access to downtown entertainment, but also have a yard and some space to call our own.
We visit my mom and George every couple of months, and our trips to the country are always fun. We usually stop at the roadhouse on our way, and enjoy a reenactment of the night we met.
We were just there last night, actually, and I still have a smile on my face.
I’ll never get tired of b
eing pressed up close to Billy’s perfect body.
Right now, I’m keeping a close eye on that very same model of physical perfection as he cares for Buck and Gracie.
Taking a long, peaceful trail ride is another ritual during our visits and today’s was one of the best. Fluffy, white clouds decorate the blue sky, and the softest hint of a breeze carries the scent of flowers on the air.
“You should really know how to do this by yourself by now, Kate,” Billy says as he unsaddles Gracie.
I step forward and rub the mare’s ears, something I’ve learned that she loves. “It’s much more fun watching you while you do it.”
He waggles his eyebrows in mock flirtation and flexes a bicep for my benefit. I consider the possibility of us having an actual roll in the hay, but I decide to be good.
I tear my eyes away from Billy’s muscles and help him groom the horses. He leads them to their stalls, and then we start for the house.