Cliff found a quiet corner and they sipped their champagne and watched the “preshow show,” the parade of patrons, from the well dressed, to the badly dressed, to the barely dressed. Cliff’s murmured commentary kept her in giggles, as always. For fifty years, no one had ever made her laugh like Cliff could. Her husband, David, had been a wonderful man, and she’d loved him dearly—still missed him every day—but when she needed a good chuckle, she’d always looked to Cliff, David’s childhood friend and business partner.

There’d never been anything between them while their spouses had been alive. Never considered it. But as the grief had faded, they’d realized that there might be more between them than the shared love of a good laugh. Their children and grandchildren had encouraged the relationship, happy to see the “old folks” bonding in companionship and mutual support. As for romance, well, there was bound to be some hand-holding, maybe the odd kiss on the cheek, but that was it. After all, both would see eighty in a year or two.

Had the kids known the truth…Grace smiled. With Cliff, she’d discovered a passion she’d thought lost to age. Even with his bum knee and her recent hip break, they managed just fine.

“What are you thinking, Gracie?” Cliff’s voice was a growling purr as he leaned over her. “That glint in your eyes tells me I might want to skip the show.”

She was opening her mouth to reply, when an usher passed, telling people it was fifteen minutes to curtain.

“Time for me to find a bathroom,” Cliff said. “That wine at dinner went right through me and this”—he lifted his empty champagne flute—“didn’t help. How about you?”

Grace paused. She hated using public bathrooms with this wheelchair. Darned awkward. But there was no way she’d make it until she got home after the show, and the hallway congestion would be impossible at intermission. Better to get it over with now.

“So who goes first?” Cliff said as Grace wheeled into the bathroom hall. “Flip for it? Or…” He grinned down at her. “Maybe we should go together. I’m sure you could use a hand.”

“If we do, will we get to our seats in ten minutes?”

“Probably not.”

“Then save that thought for another time.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

A sly smile up at him. “Good.” Before he could answer, she waved at the bathrooms. “Seems we don’t need to flip for first dibs after all. There are two of them. You know you’re in a place that caters to us old fogies when…”

He smiled. “Too true. You take the first, then, my lady, and I’ll meet you in a few minutes.” He snuck a look her way and waggled his brows. “Sure you don’t want some help?”