I said, “I’ve heard about guys with gunshot wounds. Apparently, if they’re real careful, they can make love after five days of healing.”
Tom pulled me to him with his good arm, then swung me around. He leaned in close to my ear and murmured, “Oh, yeah? Where’d you hear that?”
And so I danced with my husband, my Valentine. After a few blissful moments, I checked the food table. It was unmanned. Scanning the dance floor, I saw Julian dancing with a lovely, dark-haired girl. An Elk Park Prep faculty member? An alum? Why had I never seen her before? Had Julian just met her? Or were they old friends?
“Tom,” I whispered, “who’s that girl dancing with Julian?”
Tom pulled me close. “Goldy,” he murmured in my ear. Tingles again raced up my spine. “Will you never stop?
