He stood, and held out his hand to her. She took it, and let him lead her through the restaurant and up to the dance floor. He found them a cozy spot in the stage’s far corner, turned to face her, and took her in his arms. She was only as tall as his chin, and she tilted her head back to look up at him, liking the warmth of his hands, one at the small of her back, the other holding her hand. Resting her other hand on his shoulder, she imagined she could feel his solid warmth through the fabric of his suit coat and shirt, and she felt somehow at home with him.

“I suppose you know you’re the most beautiful girl here,” Harry said.

Anne felt herself flush, and looked down her arm at the scuffed hardwood floor. “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s true,” Harry insisted. “In fact, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in all of Superior. I’d go so far as to say in all of Wisconsin. I don’t know what you’re doing with me.”

She looked up into his blue eyes; was mesmerized, helpless, just for a moment. But she recovered quickly. “Well, I felt sorry for you,” she said, smiling beatifically.

He laughed, and pulled her closer.

The pianist obliged them with several lush Gershwin tunes, and they didn’t let go of each other until Harry happened to glance up and see another couple being seated at their table, the woman with a look of confusion handing Anne’s purse to the waiter. “Uh-oh,” Harry said, and led Anne down off the dance floor to confront the waiter, who apologized profusely, saying he was certain they had left. Mr. Vinzetti, seeing the commotion, came over and offered free dessert and coffee; Harry said they would take a rain check. Anne reclaimed her purse, and Harry paid the bill and got their coats. As he helped her into hers, Anne heard the waiter behind them, defending himself to Mr. Vinzetti, sputtering, “The table was empty for half an hour, what was I to think?”

“Were we really dancing for half an hour?” she asked Harry as they settled into his borrowed Buick, which was considerably colder than it had been prior to dinner.

He grinned at her as he turned the key in the ignition. “I wasn’t checking the time.”

“Well, it’s all right,” Anne said. “I suppose it wasn’t fair of us to take up a table when we were finished eating.”

“Want to go for a drive? Maybe out to Wisconsin Point?”

Anne laughed. “Harry Mickelson! Worse than any college boy! Usually they wait until at least the second date before they ask a girl out to Wisconsin Point!”

“Well, you know, being older, I don’t have as much time to waste.”

“I suppose that’s true.”