Ch. 2

The next day, Archie was in his office, fumbling over his feet as he tried to copy the swishy steps of the swing dance video on his laptop. He admired the dancers for their grace and theatrical smiles, loved how their feet never seemed to touch the ground, but as soon as Archie caught sight of his feet, he stopped and blushed. He was too clumsy for this. He was probably too old, too. He wasn't like Ruby, who danced with the broom as easily as these professionals did with real partners.

A knock came at the door. Archie closed his laptop on his desk. "Come in."

Marco peered around the door, his newsboy cap in his hand. "Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"No, I was just, uh . . ." Archie straightened his tie and motioned for Marco to step in. "Come in. How are you feeling?"

The old man certainly looked better than before—his skin had a healthy pink color, his eyes twinkled, and he even seemed to walk better. "I'm feeling good," Marco said. "The soup you gave me, it was like magic."

Archie smiled and sat in the leather sofa. "That's good. But don't thank me, the credit goes to Ruby."

"Ah-hah." Marco joined Archie on the couch. "I heard music coming from here. What were you listening to?"

Archie shrugged. "Just some old swing classics. Did you know there are two types of swing dancing? east coast and west. I like east coast better. It's a lot more . . . kicky."

Marco raised his brows. "'Kicky?'"

Archie lowered his eyes, his smile impenetrable. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, what's the occasion?"

Marco reached in his pocket and pulled out a small piece of wood, polished and carved to look like a cricket. "I wanted to thank you for the soup, but now that I know it was Ruby's idea—"

Archie laughed and took the figure, studying it amusingly in his hands. "It's lovely, thank you." He looked at Marco. "Is it okay if I give it to Ruby? She didn't want me paying for the soup, anyway."

"Whatever you like. That Ruby, she's a good girl."

"Yeah . . ." Archie looked at the cricket again, his smile widening as he thought of the pretty young woman's dance steps. "Hey, do you want to get lunch?" he asked Marco.

0000000

The lunch rush was unusually slow today, with only Sidney Glass sitting a few booths towards the end, a husband and wife by the windows, and Emma having a grilled cheese at the counter. Ruby appeared from the back room with a tray of water, and it was all Archie could do to keep from smiling like an idiot in front of her. He sat at a booth with Marco and squeezed the wooden cricket in his coat pocket.

"I'll be with you guys in a sec," Ruby said as she handed Sidney a water.

Archie tapped his feet nervously until Ruby arrived at their table. She wore tight blue pants under her white apron, a red shirt, and a wisp of blush in her high cheekbones. "What can I get you guys?"

Archie waved his hand, his heart jack-hammering in his chest. "Oh, I'm not hungry."

Marco looked at him. "It was your idea to come here."

Ruby looked from Marco to Archie, then lowered her notepad. "I'll come back." She turned for the counter, then whipped back to Marco. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Marco."

"Thank you, Ruby. I made something for you . . ." The old man looked at Archie, who was staring intently at Ruby, as though she might dance if he looked long enough. He nudged Archie's leg under the table and the psychiatrist snapped out of it.

"Oh, right." Archie dug in his coat pocket and pulled out the wooden figure. "Here. It's a—"

"Cricket?" Ruby said.

"I made it in my shop," said Marco.

It obviously wasn't Ruby's style, but she smiled nonetheless. "Thank you. Is it okay if I paint it red?"

"It wouldn't be you if you didn't," Marco said.

Archie slumped in his seat. He wanted to be the one to give Ruby the gift, to pull her aside and ask her the secrets of her dancing style, maybe even take her up on that offer of a dance—

"I'll get you guys some water." Ruby plopped the cricket in her apron pocket and turned once more for the front counter.

Archie rubbed his temple. What an idiot. He should have spoken up. He should have said something cool like, 'nice dancing last night,' or 'red is a great color on you,' but every word seemed childish and awkward.

"You're doing it again," Marco said.

Archie blinked and looked at his friend. "Huh?"

"When you're upset, you rub your face. Would you have rather kept the cricket?"

"No." Archie shook his head. "I mean, yes, it was a lovely gift, but . . ."

"But?"

Archie looked across the diner. Ruby was refilling Emma's cup of coffee, a smile on her cherry lips. "Excuse me." Archie stood, a courage gathering in his chest that he never knew he had, and leaned over the counter. "Can I ask you something?"

Ruby looked at him. "Sure."

Emma's eyes were slowly traveling to the pair, inadvertently listening in, but Archie didn't care. "Do you . . ." He cleared his throat and suddenly everything got hazy. "Um, do you have . . .?"

Ruby's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She ducked under the counter and came up with a CD in hand. "I burned you a copy of JD McPherson."

Archie stared at Ruby for a moment, puzzled, then took the CD. "Oh. Thanks."

"Yeah, I also got a copy of those other guys—Buddy Holly and that fat guy."

"Fats Domino."

"Right." Ruby giggled.

"So, are you, uh, still interested in swing dance?"

"Yeah, I love it," Ruby said, her eyes shining. "It'd be more fun if I had a partner, though."

Lava rushed to Archie's cheeks. Was Ruby flirting? Impossible. She was just making idle chatter, like him. But her smile, God, her smile . . . And she liked the music he recommended. And she burned him a copy of that CD. And she smelled so damn good—

"Well, thanks." Time slowed as Archie turned away from the counter. The hand on the clock stopped, the fly buzzing on the window hovered as slow as molasses from a jar, and Archie's feet felt like they were made of lead.

His brain was was saying: YOUGODDAMNIDIOTWHYAREYOUSOST UPIDTURNAROUND!

His heart was saying: Youuuuuuuuuu suuuuuuuuuuck looooooooser . . .

Archie's vision went black, and only until he found himself sitting back at his booth did time start up again.

"Are you all right?" Marco asked.

Archie closed his gaping mouth, then nodded, a small squeak emanating from his lips. "Got CD." He held up the disc. He felt like a robot. "Music. Good."

0000000

Alone, at home, again. The rest of Archie's day was tame, as usual, the same garden-variety neurotics, the same chicken and vegetable dish for lunch. Archie mumbled angrily to himself as he washed his dishes and Pongo stared at him from the couch in the living room.

"Idiot. Such an idiot." He scrubbed his dinner plate until his fingers hurt, until it was clean enough to do surgery on him. He moved onto a helpless water glass and shook his head. "Should've danced. Should've—" Archie stopped and looked towards the living room. Ruby's CD was perched on the edge of his stereo system, practically staring at him as pointedly as Pongo.

Archie dropped the glass in the lukewarm sink and crossed the room. He popped the CD in his player and JD crooned "Wolf Teeth." Archie grinned and tapped his foot to the song. He wanted to sprint across the room, swinging his legs and arms, kicking his feet as exuberantly as the dancers in those videos he watched today, but he didn't know how. There was a fire inside of him growing. He could feel it with every beat of the song, every hoot of JD's rockabilly voice.

Archie looked at Pongo. Smiled slowly.

"Let's go for a walk, Pongo."

This time, he wouldn't walk away. This time, he would dance.

To be continued