MOVING IN STEREO

Love Song part 1

"I'll be the ticket if you're my collector

I'll charge the fare if you're my inspector

I'll be the luggage if you'll be the porter

I'll be the parcel if you'll be the sorter

Just for you here's a love song

Just for you here's a love song

And if makes me glad to say

It's been a lovely day

And it's okay."

Love Song

The Damned

The events of that particular Friday night were strange and unexpected. We were both tired. I picked up Greek on the way home. Sofi loved Greek food, and I knew it would be a pleasant surprise. It was one of those nights where I wanted to hang out with her, hold her on the couch, maybe watch television, play with the words, and sleep. She was excited to see the food I brought and insisted I go and change into comfy clothes and 'get settled' before dinner.

When I returned, she had the patio set with candles and everything. When I talk about the little things she did that made life so sweet, that is precisely what I am talking about. She wore a short dark floral print dress that perfectly accented her slender frame. When I sat down, she poured a drink for me, and that's when I noticed her hair. She had pulled it back away from her face and had large braids on either side of her head, creating a beautiful crown look; the rest hung carelessly onto her shoulders. She had on silver hoop earrings, and she had put on lipstick. She sat next to me, and I could not stop enjoying her. She looked so elegant.

There were times when I looked at her and just enjoyed her beauty. Other times I looked at her and wanted to snatch her up and devour her head to toe, still others where I wanted to simply hold her close and feel her warm body pressed against mine. Words could not and will not do those feelings justice.

We listened to some of her classical music as we ate. She was very animated that evening. She had won the part she had been practicing for in an upcoming production and was extremely excited. This was her first character part. I knew she had been working hard; I just don't think I realized how important it was to her. The more she talked, the more we laughed. It had been a long week for both of us and one where we had not had much time to catch up.

"So tell me more about this part."

"Ohhh," her eyes lit up a deep sparkling brown.

"I am the woman in green, Anitra, the daughter of the Mountain King."

I took a long drink from my glass.

"It's Peer Gynt. Grieg, well, Ibsen, he wrote the story anyway. Grieg made the music later. I'm sure you've heard it or some of it. 'In the Hall of the Mountain King' is a very popular piece."

"Popular?"

"Smarty, you know what I mean."

She knew her stuff too. She was really into classical, maybe due to her dancing interests. Still, she also enjoyed it and liked sharing it with me, explaining the nuances of the music. She didn't know anything much about other genres at all. It was my fortune to be able to expose her to other music, well, all the music I liked anyway. She was so utterly new to it all that it was endearing.

"So Peer Gynt?" I asked.

She pulled her chair out a little and faced me.

"It's Norwegian. Peer Gynt was a storytelling troublemaker who fell in love with a farm girl he was forbidden to marry from his town. So long story short, he hides away with this girl, Solveig, and asks her to wait while he strikes out into the world to prove himself. He gets introduced to the Mountain King, this mysterious underground king of this sort of middle kingdom. Then Peer Gynt meets his daughter, Anitria," she explained, holding her hands out on either side of her face.

"There are these two great dance scenes I'm going to get to do. The costumes should be amazing!"

"I'm proud of you, babe; you've been working so hard."

I put my hand out for a high five, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me over closer so she could kiss me.

"I love you," she said sweetly.

After we ate, I insisted on clearing the dishes. I took as many as I could the first trip, stopped by the CD player on the way back out, and switched CDs to Chris Isaak. Of course, she helped me with the rest, and we returned to the patio where the tiny white lights I had strung across from the top of the door frame to the brick knee-wall showered us in a soft glow. The night air was cooling down quickly. I sat again, and she placed her small soft hand over mine. I had to have more of her, so I stood and pulled her up with me and drew her in close, whispering 'I love you back, you know?' in her left ear.

She nodded, held me tight around the waist, then slid her arms down, gripping my hands, and began swaying to the music. I pulled her in closer, moving slowly with her.

"You know I've never seen you dance."

It was really a thought, but it came out verbally.

She stopped our slow dance and looked up at me, still holding my hands. She was smiling wryly, slightly from the corner of her mouth. She did that often when she was surprised by a thought that she considered herself.

"You want to see me dance?"

"Of course, I want to see you dance. I've always wanted to see you. We just haven't had time. I just haven't had time."

I stroked her soft hair and placed my hand behind her neck.

"I would love to watch you dance," I reaffirmed.

She smiled big, then drew her lips in, folding them under. That was an embarrassed or modest reaction. I had seen it before, but she was excited about the prospect. She was a strange dichotomy of a woman, exceedingly subtle but immutably conspicuous. Quiet but the most lively conversationalist I have ever known. Accomplished yet unpretentious, aware, intelligent, and still so naive.

"I've thought about dancing for you. I've felt like sometimes when I am practicing, I'm looking forward to you seeing me dance. I've thought about what you would think of it. Whether you would like it or not."

"I'd like it, trust me."

"Well, it's probably not as exciting as seeing The Damned or,"

She paused, trying to remember Bad Religion. She had heard me talking so much about them because I was excited about an upcoming show I had tickets for.

"Bad Religion?"

"Yeah," she smiled, covering her mouth.

"Not as exciting, I'm sure, but I still hope you like it."

I moved her toward the sliding glass door and back into the apartment.

"I've got an idea if you are up to it?" She said, spinning around to face me.

"Shoot."

"We could go to the studio, and I could show you the dance I have been working on."

She was grinning ear to ear and playing with her hair. It was rare for her to be nervous.

"I'll change and get my things; it'll only take a minute."

"I'm game Sof if you feel up to it."

She rushed in and kissed me hard on the mouth, then ran out of the living room towards the bedroom. I could hear her rushing around for a few moments, then she re-emerged in sweat pants and a hoodie. Her ballet shoes were strung over her right shoulder with her tiny black purse.

"I'll drive," she said, taking my arm and practically pulling me out the door.