It was the summer of 1966, when everyone still called me Baby, and it still hadn't occurred to me to mind. I decided against the Peace Corps, and, though I got in, I never went to Mt. Holyoke that fall of '63. Instead, I went to Juliard.

That's where I am now. Or, I should say was, since we left the school itself nearly 18 hours ago. I don't have any idea where we're going; one of my teachers convinced me to sign up for a dance competition. The catch was, I couldn't know where the contest itself was, or who else would be in it, until I got to the place itself. So, I was going in blind. Literally. James, my Latin-ballroom teacher, made me put on a blindfold.

I was abruptly reminded of the summer at Kellerman's, and how I had, essentially, gone into that situation totally blind too, even if I didn't see it at the time. 'No, don't think about that summer.' That's what I thought to myself every time my thoughts wandered that way.

The car just stopped. I hadn't noticed it slowing down. I had noticed the song on the radio though. The Four Seasons "Big Girls Don't Cry". Exactly like last time.

I stepped out of the car – with help- to feel the sun on my face. I could hear James talking to someone, but I didn't know who. Then he told me to take off my blindfold.

When I did, I stepped back in time.

We were at Kellerman's. The sun was shining, and there was Max, standing right in front of me. Right next to him, obviously waiting to unload our luggage, was Billy. He looked exactly the same, except maybe a bit less boy-ish looking than he had three years ago. His mouth was open. H looked shocked. I imagine I must've looked very similar.

Then Max stepped forward, hugged me, then held me at arms-length saying, "Well if it isn't Baby Houseman! Well, you have certainly grown up, haven't you?" Then he turned back to James and said, "If it wasn't for this girl's father, I'd be standing here dead." He said more, but I pretty much stopped paying attention, instead focusing on Billy.

I was going to say something, but before I could, he rushed forward and hugged me, which I gladly returned. "Where the hell have you been?" he asked me.

"Here and there," I replied, still in shock.

He got the keys from James and we started to unload the car, chatting about what had been going on in our lives. Slamming the trunk shut, he said, "You should come up to Quarters tonight, I know everyone would love to see you."

It seemed that James just then noticed that Billy and I knew each other. Then decided to point out the obvious. "So, I take it you to know each other..."

I told him, "Yeah, I spent the summer here about three years ago. Assuming the staff hasn't changed much I know just about everyone here." Max had excused himself to greet another car full of dancers. I could tell they were dancers. They were all tall and graceful, much like Penny. Speaking of, "How's Penny doing?" I asked Billy.

"Not too bad. She'll love to see you again," he said. He grabbed our bags – with help from me of course- and led us over the large grassy field to the same cabin I had in '63. I got mine and Lisa's old room, James took my parent's room. As he went to leave to help unload more cars (they were arriving by the minute), he said again, "You should really come up to Quarters tonight, everyone's missed you." And with that, he was gone.

A moment later, James walked in. "So, what exactly is this 'Quarters' that this kid wants you to go to?" he asked.

Turning to him, I said, "Staff Quarters. Usually guests aren't allowed up there."

"But you are?"

"I know some people," I told him, smiling and turning around to start unpacking.

( )( )( )

Well, Max stopped by to introduce James to Neil. That was fun. Not. Neil and I don't exactly have the best history.

So, now it's the traditional Saturday evening "entertainment". At least that meant dancing. I should have been excited about it, but I wasn't. I know why, but don't want to acknowledge him. Then the Mambo started. There was suddenly an open space in the dancefloor. And right in the middle was Penny and the one person that I really didn't want or expect to see ever again. Yeah. Johnny.

I don't know what came over me. One second I was bumming, the next I was... desperate. I just had to show Johnny that I was back and better than ever. I didn't even ask James if he wanted to, I just pulled him out into the open space and we started dancing. We somehow managed to mix Latin Ballroom with the traditional Mambo. And we were good. Penny and Johnny were really good too, don't get me wrong, but their dance was choreographed, and you could tell. Ours was just dancing to the music and baring our souls in the process. All of us rocked.

The end was the most interesting part. Johnny and Penny were even more stunned than Billy to see me, and they had an audience. Everyone clapped for the performance, and I walked past Johnny barely glancing at him, to go ask the band if they knew Havana Nights. They did.

Walking back to James, I looked at him and said, "Showtime."

And what a show we gave. While I was putting my all into every spin, dip, and every other move that was in our routine, every cell in my body had it's attention on Johnny, wanting to see what his reaction would be. As the music stopped we froze in our last dip, holding it until the applause came. And boy was there applause. It felt good, to know that half the people there were dancers themselves, there for the competition, and they were all applauding us.

Then, I dared to look at Johnny.