Excerpt from my newest

Lilac in the Spring

by Paula Freda

“…The clip holding the lilac spray at her temple gave up the fight and slipped to the floor. “Oh, wonderful,” Helen grimaced, hoping no one had noticed. She glanced around. Everyone was busy choosing and accepting partners. Quickly she bent over to retrieve the flower, lost her balance, tried to regain it, but only succeeded in tipping the chair sideways and side-slipping to ground with a loud thump.

Mercilessly, the slow melodious tune did nothing to mask the noise, and everyone turned in her direction. Helen wished she were dead.

She heard the snickers as she turned to sit upright. The worst was yet to come, she thought, her face flushing with embarrassment. She had to get up, but that meant getting on her knees and maneuvering herself up. Maybe she should just sit there until everyone tired of watching her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her lips trembled.

“Are you all right?” a young man’s voice asked.

Black and white sneakers and blue denim jeans. She gazed up slowly, past a white long-sleeved T-shirt under a black sport jacket. Finally her gaze encountered a strong neck, a pleasing jaw, firm mouth, nicely shaped nose, and a pair of wide blue eyes filled with what seemed honest concern.”

Kurt Lance asked, extending a hand, “Here, let me help you up.”

Tongue-tied, embarrassed and at the same time flabbergasted that Kurt Lance was asking to help her up, Helen stammered a thank you and tried to hide the quiver that ran up her arms when Kurt placed his hands about her elbows and lifted her to feet in one fluid motion.

“Okay?” he asked.

Helen nodded. “I-I lost my balance. My-my hair clip fell.” She pointed to the lilac spray, feeling a desperate need to explain that she wasn’t normally a klutz.

Kurt bent and picked up her lilac spray and to her astonishment, clipped it back on her hair. “Looks nice on you,” he said, smiling. “Tell you what,” let’s finish this dance.

I’m dreaming, Helen thought, as she nodded timidly and heard a definite intake of female breaths when Kurt cupped her elbow and led her on to the dance floor.

He’s a nice kid, her mom had said. Oh yes, mom, he is. But he’s not a kid, he’s a young man. Helen hoped he did not hear her heart thumping loudly as he placed his arms about her. She noticed some of the dancing couples pause as he began to lead her across the floor. She imagined what the rubies were thinking, Sapphire is taking mercy on a wallflower. His good deed for the day. He might be laughing at her. It could all be a cruel joke, the Carrie plot, except that she didn’t have telekinetic powers.

It took her a few moments to muster the courage to meet his gaze head-on as they danced. She gave him another timid smile. He returned the smile. She felt her knees weaken, and nearly stumbled, but his arms, strong yet gentle, tightened imperceptibly, just enough to help her keep in step. Oh my God, she thought, he’s an angel. She absolutely would never forget tonight!

The music slowed to a stop, and he let go of her waist. But he kept his other arm about her shoulders. A true young gentleman, he’ll probably lead me back to my seat, she thought.

A fast tune shot out from the DJ’s equipment on the stage. Most of the couples on the floor began to shuffle and swing. Helen stood very still. He hadn’t moved. Was she supposed to walk away? Did he intend dancing with her again?

“Come on, let’s dance,” Kurt said.

Helen’s eyes widened with surprise. He must have understood her hesitation for he nodded. She couldn’t restrain the good-natured giggle. Later she would think how silly she must have sounded. She began to dance, letting her body move with the music, her feet stepping lightly to the music beat. Kurt was a good dancer, and his moves natural, not affected or goofy, or inappropriate. She took his lead for the most part, enjoying the freedom of swaying her shoulders and arms and hips to the liberating notes. She forgot to count the seconds and the minutes, thoroughly enjoying her second dance with a handsome young partner, the boy of her dreams.

It was indeed a night she would never forget. Three more dances — one rock’n roll, one slow, and then a waltz, The Blue Danube. She was glad that over the years her dad had taught her the basic steps whenever they attended family affairs. She felt a worthy partner as Kurt waltzed her across the floor, half empty, as several of the rubies had never bothered to learn the steps to this old and beautiful dance. As Kurt and she glided across the room, the auditorium appeared to vanish from her realm of reality. And for a few moments she was Cinderella at the ball dancing with her dashing Prince.

At length, both of them pleasantly exhausted, Kurt asked Helen if she would like a glass of punch. “Yes, I would,” Helen replied, wishing this enchanted evening would go on forever, but expecting any moment to awaken and find it all a beautiful dream.

Kurt escorted her to the refreshment table supervised by one of the faculty. Ruby Jennie broke the spell. “Hey, Lilac, our ride’s here.”

The use of her nickname jolted Helen back into the real world. She was a fifteen year old high school freshman at her first dance. Their ride was Jennie’s mom who had come to drive them home.

Helen fought back the urge to refuse to go. She stoically blinked back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes and gave Kurt her sweetest smile. “I have to go home now.” She immediately regretted her next words, “Thank you for your kindness. I had a wonderful time!” She saw Kurt frown and realized she had just committed a faux pas. Once again, the frumpy dumpy frizzy-haired wallflower, “Bye,” she whispered, and walked out with Jennie…”


Available at Amazon, Smashwords, Apple ITunes, among others, under my pseudonym Paula Freda




About dorothypaula

Come into my world of adventure, romance, inspiration, nostalgia, science fiction and fantasy, time travel, and the paranormal, and sensual clean romances (rated "G" and "PG"). You will find it all in E-books and Paperbacks by Paula Freda. http://www.angelfire.com/falcon/dpfenterprises.com/ Paula Freda, homemaker, mother of two grown sons, and former off-the-desk publisher of a family-oriented print small press, (1984 thru 1999), The Pink Chameleon, that she now publishes on line, was raised by her grandmother and mother, and has been writing for as long as she can remember. Even before she could set pencil to paper, she would spin her stories in the recording booths in the Brooklyn Coney Island Arcades for a quarter per 3-minute record. She states, "I love the English language, love words and seeing them on display, typed and alive. A romantic at heart, I write simply and emotionally. One of my former editors kindly described my work, '...her pieces are always deep, gentle and refreshing....'" Among the print publications in which her work has appeared are D'Youville Poetry Anthology, Clover Intl Poetry Competition, Small Press Writers & Artists Org. (SPWAO) Showcase II 1984, Nom de Plume, Labyrinth (1984), Harlequin Digest (a quarterly sent to Harlequin book subscribers during the 1980s), The Sacred Heart Messenger, Standard, Affaire De Coeur, Mid Island Times (hometown newspaper). On line, Peridot Books, The Romantic Bower, Romance and Beyond, and Alternate Realities. During February 2001 she taught an online class on writing at Topica.com. From 1985-1994 she coordinated writers clubs at two of her local hometown libraries. She further states, "I love writing, despite that I still have much to learn, and am grateful to any editor who takes the time to help me improve my skill. Although I've no fancy that I will ever be famous, or even want to be, my hope is that my writing will bring entertainment and uplift the human spirit. If someday in the future, someone reads my work and feels the better for it, then I have fulfilled myself."
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