I was not a great dancer, but I had learned to accept my inadequacies long ago. We headed for the dance floor. As we did, I glanced back at John and C...ndy. John was like me. He only danced because his wife insisted on it.I was only good for a couple of sets. The same with John. Sandy and Cindy had no issues with staying on the dance floor. Girls are like that.As I settled back into the dark recess of the club, John sat down next to me. Neither of us said a word as we watched Sandy and Cindy. "How are you feeling?" he asked, concern in his voice."Dire," I replied, "and too feeble to get out of bed." You don't have to," he said.He then lifted me into a sitting position in the bed, placing pillowsbehind me."Gerda recommended hot broth and coffee," he said, picking up a bowl andspoon from the tray, "now open up."He fed the broth to me, and I have to admit it did make me feel better.I watched his face carefully as he did so, marvelling at how solicitoushe was being. He surely had more. More

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