“Oui, c’est ça,” he murmured. “Relax into the music and my movement. It’s all about communication. And trust.”
The music went on far longer than any song she had ever danced to, and she began to hope it wouldn’t end. When they did go to sit down, Frédé grazed her hand with his lips. “Magnifique! Let’s have a rest and then, if you like, we can dance to another piece.”
“I would like that. But please be honest… Did I really do it?”
His laughter was warm and genuine. “You really did it, Nora. Mais oui!”
He brought her another glass of champagne, and they watched the others move around the floor. Mark and Marie danced with effortless grace—a blur of intricate footwork and practiced elegance. From time to time, Chloe and Olivier would pause them to ask for a tip—an impromptu lesson or a secret to make it look so smooth and flowing.
“How long must one practice to get that good?” Nora asked Frédé.
“Not as long as you might think. Once the partners know what is expected, a bit of practise can bring it all together. But as you may have realized, a tango can be as simple as the steps we were doing. There is no rush to get complicated. Did it please you?”
“It did, even though I was terrified of making a mistake and tromping all over your feet.”
“But you did not do that, even though you were terrified, because you let me guide you. That is the secret in the beginning. When you are more experienced, partners can take turns doing the guiding and the dance can become passionate, emotional, and dramatic.”
As they sipped more champagne, he explained the recorded music they danced to. “What sounds like an accordion is something called a bandoneon. It truly is the soul of tango music. Then there is a violin, piano, guitar, and double bass. This is a tango orchestra. The sound they create pulls at the heart and can be beautiful or heartbreaking. Yet it is always emotional and seductive.”
“Even though I was mainly focused on not messing up, I felt that emotion. I love sitting here watching how the dancers are so passionate. Their movements shape a story in notes and even the pauses become dramatic. It’s an entirely new education for me.”
Frédé touched his champagne flute to Nora’s. “Magnifique, my new friend. You are catching on. Are you ready to go again?”
Surprised at her own eagerness, she nodded. Frédé stood and held out his arms. Then she was once again in the embrace. The abrazo.
As the evening went on and more bottles were opened, the dancing continued. From time to time, they all changed partners. To Nora’s relief, everyone she danced with kept the movements simple, and each dance gave her more confidence.
At one point, Giselle swept her into her arms. “Viens, ma belle. Dance with me. You are doing just fine. How do you like it? Do you feel the plaisir?”
Nora laughed. She already knew this was classic Giselle.
Chloe grinned at them as she and Luc swept by. Olivier was dancing with Marie.
The hours passed. The bubbles flowed. Nora fell in love with tango.
ChapterNine
Nora’s phonerang at half past nine the following morning. It was Chloe. “Mom, did I wake you? I just ducked out of a meeting but thought you might need a wakeup call this morning.”
“Well, I did hear the church bells earlier but immediately fell back to sleep. I totally forgot to set my alarm when I fell into bed last night. Thanks for calling. I’ll get up and jump in the shower. Giselle will be here soon. She has someone she wants me to meet.”
It had been years since she’d slept in so late, but today she’d finally broken her streak. Thanks to a raucous night of champagne, music, and merriment, she’d collapsed into bed sometime around three. But it had all been so very worth it.
Especially the tango.
She laughed out loud as the memories danced into her thoughts. She would never forget last night. She had learned to dance tango. Very basically, but she’d done it and loved it. The entire experience had seemed almost surreal and yet it wasn’t.
When they’d chatted during breaks, the others regaled her with stories of how the French love this dance. They shared stories of growing up with people doing it in their small villages. Giselle told hilarious anecdotes about tango spots along the Seine.
“Particularly, le Quai de la Tournelle is perfection when the weather turns warm,” she’d said. “I can’t begin to tell you the number of characters one meets there. Nora, you must come back in the summer, and we will go together. All of us!”
Dancing tango by the Seine under the stars was magical, they all agreed.
A quick shower left her feeling refreshed and her head somewhat cleared. She would have to ask Chloe about champagne hangovers and how to avoid them while still enjoying the bubbles.
She organized her things and laid the clothes she had already unpacked on the futon. Her plan was to simply throw them over her arm to take them next door.
Giselle expected her to move in around nine thirty and had promised to come over and help in spite of Nora’s protestations that she had very little to take with her.
