Chapter 5: Transition

In February, Roger started following through on the ideas he had discussed with Dr. Franke. He went to a nearby Waldenbooks store and made his way to the Psychology section. As he approached, he saw an elderly woman holding a book. With her short grey hair and slightly wrinkled skin, Roger estimated the woman was in her seventies.

Roger approached the woman, as she was standing in front of the books he wanted. While he waited for her to move over, Roger noticed the title of the woman’s book, “In the Midst of Winter: Selections from the Literature of Mourning”. After waiting a few moments, Roger asked, “Did you lose someone?”

She looked up at him with a weak smile and sad eyes and said, “Yes, I’m afraid my Sal passed about a month ago.”

Roger returned her weak smile and, in a solemn tone responded, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, we were together for over fifty years. We met after he returned from the war. It’s been so long since I’ve been on my own...” and then she just stopped talking as she choked-up and her eyes started to water.

Roger continued to look at her for a few seconds and quietly said, “I understand how difficult it can be. I lost my wife just over a year ago, and I still have rough days.” He paused to collect himself as he fought back tears. “How are you holding up?”

Roger noticed another person in his peripheral vision. He looked over and saw a woman close to his age with chestnut colored hair that curled under a couple inches below her ears. Her head came up to Roger’s shoulder and she wore a long sleeve knee-length floral print dress. Roger thought she was easy on the eyes, without being particularly beautiful.

The new woman gave Roger a momentary stare before turning to the older woman and asking, “Are you alright, dear?”

The old woman looked up and wiped her eyes, then answered, “Oh, yes, I’m fine. I was just telling this gentleman about my recently departed husband.”

“Oh ... Sorry for interrupting. I lost my husband last summer. I actually came in looking for a book about parenting teenagers as a single mother,” the new woman offered her story with a weak smile of her own.

“Oh, my,” the older woman exclaimed. “I can only imagine how difficult it would be to raise children on your own.”

“It hasn’t been easy - working, taking care of the kids, and trying to have a social life. But the single parent support group has helped. I’ve been going for the last few months and they have listened and supported me with good advice.” The younger woman shared her experience with an upbeat tone.

Tears started to trickle down Roger’s cheeks, as the mention of children reminded him of Elizabeth and Gregory.

The older woman turned to Roger and noticed his tears. She grasped his hand and asked, “Are you alright, honey?”

Roger sniffled and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. He answered, “Yes, I was just thinking about my children. They died with my wife. I’ll be alright in a minute. Like I said, I still have rough patches from time to time” he said as he gave the older woman another weak smile.

She smiled back, before offering, “Well, nice chatting with you both. Good luck to you.” Then she took the book she had been holding and started walking towards the cashier.

“Thank you. You, too” the younger woman replied as she looked up from the shelf of books.

“Yes, good luck,” Roger added.

A moment later, after he had picked up the two books that Dr. Franke had recommended, Roger looked at the young woman, as she stood nearby, and asked, “Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt you. Can you tell me more about this support group that you attend?”

The woman turned away from the shelf to look at Roger. Then, with a tender smile, she replied, “Sure. My particular group meets at the Wellington Community Center. When I first went to look into it, there were a lot of different groups that met on different days and times. There is a group for single parents, divorcees, widows and widowers. I also looked at a few different locations before choosing the Wellington group. I chose this one because the attendees were close to my age, and it was close to home.”

Roger had a look of consternation on his face as the woman finished her summary of the area support groups. “Wow, I didn’t realize there was so much to consider.”

“Yeah, I actually sat in on a couple of different group meetings before deciding on my group. Most of them are led by volunteers.” The woman’s smile grew as she finished.

Roger smiled back and said, “Okay, you’ve given me a lot to think about. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. And good luck with your recovery,” she offered.

“Thank you. Good luck with your kids.” Roger turned to head towards the cashier, while the woman rolled her eyes in response to his words, knowing she would need more than luck.

As Roger headed toward the cashier, he reflected on his conversations with the two women. He realized that his mood felt a little lighter. Maybe talking to people really would help him get over Stacy. He also realized that he never got either woman’s name. He shrugged. ‘Oh, well’, he thought.

Next on Dr. Franke’s prescription for recovery was recreation. Roger considered some activities. Golf certainly was popular in Florida. So was sailing. But Roger decided he wanted to do something that would help him meet people. He pulled out the yellow pages and looked up “dance”.

On Monday evening in March, Roger was heading up I-95 with Mandy in the passenger seat when she asked, “So this is part of your recovery program from your therapist?”

“Yep. When I told him about my life, he noticed that I wasn’t having very much fun since Stacy died. So, he told me to find something fun to do in my free time,” Roger responded.

“And you chose dancing?” Mandy asked, with a bit of inflection to indicate he surprise. “I thought all you successful consultant types played golf.”

Roger pulled into the left lane to pass a silver Buick Century. He looked over to see a short white-haired old woman. She had two hands on the steering wheel with her elbows hanging downwards and her head so far forward that Roger thought she was eating the steering wheel.

Roger shook his head and said with a chuckle, “Yeah, a lot of my colleagues play golf. But I wanted something that would help me meet people and could also be a fun date activity.”

“And tell me again why I’m here?” Mandy asked. She had agreed to come as an opportunity to spend time with Roger, hoping he might invite her to take the class with him.

Roger signaled and eased back into the right-hand lane before answering, “I just wanted someone to keep me company. Thanks again for agreeing to come, by the way.”

A few minutes later, the pair pulled into a large strip mall in Palm Beach Gardens where they saw the Arthur Murray dance studio.

They entered the large open space with a high, exposed metal ceiling and a large mirror against one wall. There was an office in the far corner and several tables around the edges of the space. A 40-ish woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun wearing a black unitard and a loose chiffon black skirt down to her ankles sat at one of the tables. When she saw Roger and Mandy come in, she stood up from her table and approached the couple with a smile on her face and her hand extended, she said, in her thick Spanish accent, “Hello, I am Angela Delgado. How can I help you?”

Roger returned her smile while shaking her hand and answered, “Hello, I’m Roger Price and this is my friend Mandy,” Roger nodded toward Mandy. He continued, “I believe we spoke on the phone about me taking beginning dance lessons.”

Angela shook her head and turned to Mandy to shake her hand, saying, “Si, Si. You are in the right place. As I said on the phone, we offer classes for couples or individuals. They run four to eight weeks. Classes start all the time, although sometimes the singles class has to wait for enough men to sign up. Here is the schedule.” She handed Roger a sheet of paper, before continuing, “The beginner class runs for eight weeks. The more advanced class run six or eight weeks. We also offer class to teach specific dance styles. For example, we have a very popular six-week salsa class.”

Roger took the sheet of paper and looked at it briefly, then said, “Great, thank you. Do you mind if we sit and watch for a little while?”

“Of course. And if you decide to sign up for the singles class, you’ll be the fifth man for that class, and we can start next week. Are you sure we cannot sign you up too, dear?” Angela asked as she turned to Mandy.

Mandy struggled with Angela’s accent. She stood silently for a few seconds as she processed the words. Then she turned to Roger.

“What do you say, Roger? Can I be your dance partner?” Mandy asked, as she batted her eyes at him and smiled.

Roger furrowed his brow before answering, “Let me think about that.” He then turned back to Angela, saying, “We’ll decide by the end of this class and let you know.”

Roger thought about where he was, emotionally. As his recent session with Dr. Franke and the bookstore encounter showed, he still wasn’t quite ready to date. So, meeting someone to date at the dance class seemed premature. At the very least he could take the introductory class with Mandy then decide if he wanted to continue with her. With that thought in mind, he told Mandy he would gladly take the class with her. They signed up for the couples’ class that started later in February.

On a Saturday morning in April, Mandy called Roger. When he answered, she started right in, “Hey Roger! You busy today?”

Roger hesitated for a minute before answering. Usually, when she called with this cheery tone, she had some scheme up her sleeve. Roger took in a deep breath, preparing himself for her surprise, then said, “Nothing specific, maybe do a little work, go for a bike ride. Why? What do you have in mind?”

Mandy grinned, although Roger couldn’t see it. She continued, “I think it’s time for the next step in your makeover and recovery. We need to get you a new car.”

Roger groaned and asked, “And what’s wrong with my Civic?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the Civic; that is, if you’re a teenager trying to get to school, and can’t afford a better car. Or a married guy commuting to work whose wife doesn’t care what you drive.” Mandy responded, still with her cheery voice. Then she got a little more serious, “But you’re a very successful, single consultant who needs to live a little. So, let’s go find a car for nineteen ninety-seven Roger Price, not nineteen ninety-five Roger Price.”

Roger knew that arguing with Mandy was futile. So, in a resigned tone, he said, “Okay, Mandy, I’ll be there in an hour to pick you up.”

Shortly after ten, Roger showed up at Mandy’s door, wearing white chino pants and burgundy Aerodyne-logo polo shirt. The outfit was completed by a brown leather belt and oxford shoes. Mandy smiled as she opened the door. She was wearing a knee-length sky blue flower-print sun dress with a button up yellow sweater and blue flats.

“Hey, Roger, ready to car shop?”

Roger twisted his face into a grin and replied dryly, “Do I have a choice?”

“No!” Mandy shot right back at him.

“Okay, well since this is your idea, where are we going?” Roger asked, again in his resigned tone.

“We’re looking at sports cars for you. How much can you afford?” Mandy asked.

“You mean I have some say in this decision?” Roger asked, with a touch of sarcasm.

“It is your money, after all. I can’t make you spend it,” she replied, starting to hesitate at pushing Roger out of his comfort zone.

“Well, thanks for that,” he said, wryly. Then he perked up and added, “But you’re right, I do need to break out of my rut and start to live a little more. Dr. Franke did encourage me to have more fun, and a sports car sounds like fun. Let’s say I can spend up to forty thousand dollars.”

“Okay, let me think about this for a minute,” Mandy tilted her head up and looked off to the side as she thought about moderately priced sports cars. After thinking for a minute, her cheery voice was back as she proposed, “Okay, I think you should consider a Camaro, a Corvette, a Boxster and a Z3. I would say a Miata, but we already know that car is too small.”

“And a little girly, if you ask me,” Roger retorted. After a moment’s pause to consider Mandy’s suggestions, Roger said, “I’m not interested in the Camaro, I’ve looked at the car before and think it’s cheap. So, let’s go look at the Boxster, the Corvette, and the Z3. I’ve always been a little partial to BMW’s, so we’ll save it for last.”

Roger and Mandy got into his Civic and headed to the dealerships. A couple hours later, Roger pulled into Wendy’s for lunch. After getting their food, they sat down at a table and Roger looked at Mandy to recap, “Okay, the Boxster rode rough, and boy was it loud. I think I’m going to pass on that one. The Corvette rode better and was quieter, plus that engine sure had a kick. It’s definitely a possibility.” Roger took a bite of his chicken sandwich. He chewed and swallowed the bite, took a drink, then asked, “Are you having fun, Mandy?”

Looking a little worn out, and without any enthusiasm, Mandy replied, “Sure. Although, it would be nice if you let me drive a little bit.”

Roger got a sheepish look on his face before answering, “Oops, sorry about that. I didn’t realize you wanted to drive. I guess that is the fun part of buying a new car. I’ll make sure you have a chance to drive the Z3.”

“Thanks, Roger,” Mandy responded dryly.

Roger and Mandy ate a few more bites of their food in silence. Then Roger asked, with a little bounce in his voice, “I think I might be ready to date again. Do you know if Tina is seeing anybody?”