I arrive at the Rusty Horseshoe and find Marvel already on the dance floor. I walk over, glad he made an effort to choose the right clothes for this date.
Tambara: Getting started without me?
Marvel: I figured I’d practice so I wouldn’t embarrass myself.
Tambara: Looks like you’re holding your own. And I like the boots.
Marvel: Thank you. Boots were a requirement, right?
I nod and smile as he leads me to the nearby table.
Marvel: You look beautiful. I’ll never forget to say that again.
Tambara: Thank you. You know I try.
Marvel: I’d say succeed.
I try not to grin too hard as I think about the dance tips Juanita gave me earlier. The music is pumping, making it hard to remain in my seat, and I’m eager to show off.
Tambara: So, are we here to dance or sit?
Without another word, Marvel takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. I carefully show off my newly learned footwork, although I’m not quite confident enough to stop looking at my feet.
When I do glance up, I see Marvel doing his own thing. He hasn’t mastered the Cowpoke moves yet, but his steps are carefree and smooth, making him look like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
As the music picks up, the floor becomes more crowded. But Marvel and I still manage to feel connected as we move our bodies to the fast country rhythms.
Four songs later, we’re struggling to catch our breath. As the music slows and the dance floor begins to clear, I suggest we stop to take a few pictures. He happily agrees.
Marvel: Don’t forget to send me a few of these. I need something to put on my nightstand.
I try again to hide my smile as we pose, and I snap a picture. After we go through a few poses, he’s the next to make a suggestion.
Marvel: Ready for a drink and a moment to rest our feet?
Tambara: Sure, but anything besides nectar. Now that I’m learning to make it, I’m all nectared out for now.
Marvel: You mentioned that you made nectar. How’s it going?
Tambara: Well, honestly, I’ve only made like one bottle. But as I learn, I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot more.
Marvel: Hmm, that gives me an idea for our next date.
So he’s already thinking about more dates.
The dancing crowd has migrated over to the bar. Marvel glances over, probably calculating the wait. He walks to the juice barrel next to the dance floor instead, grabs the nozzle, and pours us some drinks while I find a table off to the side away from the crowd.
He walks over with two drinks in hand and places one in front of me.
Marvel: I hope this is okay. It’s Pineapple-Lime juice.
Tambara: It’s fine. Thanks.
I take a sip, decide that I like it as I savor the tangy sweetness, then ask him a very important question.
Tambara: So, how do you feel about cats?
Marvel: Cats?
An amused expression crosses his face.
Marvel: So, you’re a cat person?
Now I’m a little concerned.
Tambara: Don’t tell me you’re not.
Marvel makes me suffer for a few moments before he breaks into a grin.
Marvel: A cat is all we ever had. My mother had a cat named Bastet. I think she was an Egyptian Mau, and believe me, she was spoiled by all of us and lived up to her name.
He’s sure to love Maj then. That makes me happy.
Tambara: Good. All cats should be spoiled. I have a beautiful cat named Majesty.
I excuse myself to visit the restroom and return to see Marvel at the dartboard. He turns to me when I approach.
Marvel: Do you play?
Tambara: Not really, but who doesn’t love throwing sharp objects at things?
Marvel smiles a crooked smile, which quickly becomes my favorite thing.
Marvel: Should I be concerned?
He steps aside and gives me the dart. I take it and aim before answering.
Tambara: Maybe.
We play a few rounds of darts, not really keeping track of who won, then make our way to one of the tables close to the dance floor. We regret it immediately because it makes it harder to hear each other.
Marvel: What else do you like to do here in Chestnut Ridge?
I can hear him say Ridge, but the rest of his words are lost in the loud music. I lean in slightly.
Tambara: What was that?
Marvel: *practically shouting* I was asking what you like to do here in town.
Tambara: *raised voice* Honestly, there’s not a lot to do here. It’s as country as it gets. There’s a fairground though, and of course the horse competitions.
We continue trying to speak over the music while a guy dances too close to our table, moving wildly and bumping it with his feet from time to time. Marvel does his best to ignore it.
Marvel: You had a competition today, right?
Tambara: I did. I tried a new event and won 3rd place.
The guy backs into the table again. Marvel glances over, then turns his attention back to me.
Marvel: That’s good.
Tambara: I can do better. But I’m glad my mom was here to see it.
Marvel: Your mom?
Tambara: Yeah, she’s here in town for a few days.
The guy bumps us again. Marvel looks over, annoyed. I watch closely, eager to see how he handles it. I’d personally confront the guy, but Marvel settles on a more peaceful approach.
Marvel: Maybe we should take this outside.
He leads me toward the door.
Once we’re outside, the music from the jukebox switches to a slower song. The loud boots stomping on wood are replaced with the gentle chorus of crickets. The music is softer out here, but still carries through the open doorway. Rather than continuing our conversation, Marvel takes one of my hands and gently places his other around my waist.
Marvel: This is so much better. I was waiting for the music to slow down a bit.
I never thought about it, but now that I feel his arms around me, I realize I was waiting for it too. He leads me into a gentle sway from side to side, then releases my waist and spins me slowly. The movement is purposeful, steady, and soft.
The music switches back to a midtempo song, and Marvel finally releases me. We stand there face to face, and I can see that he’s wrestling with something. He looks off to the side, making me think something is wrong.
Tambara: Is everything okay?
His eyes shift back to me, and he grins that crooked grin once again.
Marvel: I was just wondering if this would be a good time to kiss you.
I’m almost frustrated that he has to ask.
Tambara: It’s a perfect—
Before I can complete the sentence, he leans in and places his lips on mine. His kiss is soft, and I can tell he popped another mint at some point. That seems to be his thing. The cool mintiness lingers as he gives me a gentle, careful kiss.
After our kiss, Marvel takes my hand.
Marvel: It’s getting late. I should walk you home.
His hand remains firmly in mine as I guide him toward the ranch, and I tell him a little more about Chestnut Ridge, especially about the hills and the time my horse Finesse abandoned me there.
Marvel listens thoughtfully the entire walk home. I watch his reaction as the ranch suddenly appears in front of us. He glances over, but doesn’t seem overly impressed. His attention is still on me. He finally releases my hand when we’re standing at the gate.
I’m not quite ready for the evening to end, but I’ve been in this situation before, and I don’t want a repeat of that moment. I carefully choose my next words, keeping them light and casual.
Tambara: Would you like to come in a moment?
He glances at the house before turning to fully face me.
Marvel: It’s late. I should probably go.
Tambara: Not even for a glass of water?
I can see him mentally weighing his options. When his eyes finally glow with his decision, he takes both of my hands into his.
Marvel: Your mother is here. That’s not the way I want to meet her.
Damn him for always being so thoughtful.
Tambara: She doesn’t have to know. I’m sure she’s asleep.
Marvel: If she’s anything like my mother was, she isn’t. She’s up making sure you get home safe.
There has to be something I can say to make him stay, even for just another moment.
Tambara: Yeah, but—
He ends my words by lifting my hands and kissing them, sending sparks up my arms and making goodnight even harder to say. But somehow I manage.
Marvel: Goodbye for now. See you soon.
He turns to leave.
Tambara: When?
But he’s already too far away to hear the softly whispered word.
(Generation 5 Chapter Summaries)
