Chapter 3: Solare
Our first venture beyond the confines of the dance studio brought us to "Solare," an Italian gem just a short stroll away. The outing was Colette's way of reciprocating after I surprised her with champagne on her birthday. "Is Madame K available for a glass of wine?" she inquired one day after class. "It's my turn to treat you."
The outdoor seating at Solare, caressed by gentle May breezes, provided a serene backdrop. With glasses of crisp, dry white wine in hand—Vermentino, she had suggested with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she wanted the moment felt like a refreshing new chapter in our evolving relationship. The conversation flowed effortlessly, though most of it faded into the backdrop, except for one significant exchange.
Perhaps it was the recent celebration of Madame C's birthday that naturally led the conversation to the topic of my own special day. When she inquired about mine, I mentioned it was in November. Her eyes lit up with interest as she asked about any plans I had.
"Actually," I began, my heartbeat quickening as an idea I hadn't fully acknowledged even to myself suddenly demanded expression. I took a sip of wine for courage. "I was thinking of going to Buenos Aires." Then, before I could carefully consider the implications, words tumbled out: "You should come with me!"
The invitation, once spoken, seemed to hang between us like a daring leap into the unknown. There was a momentary pause, filled only by the roar of an airplane lifting from the nearby San Diego airport—a fleeting interruption that seemed to underline the gravity of my proposition.
We exchanged a smile, acknowledging the sudden breach in our tranquil setting, and I held my breath, contemplating: Had I overstepped? Was this too forward, too soon? Yet something about it felt inevitable, as if the words had been waiting since our first embrace in the studio. The suggestion was far from my usual cautious approach to a new type of relationship, yet something about my interactions with Colette made it feel entirely right, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this leap of faith.
Colette paused, her gaze holding mine, an unreadable expression playing across her face. Then, taking a leisurely sip of her wine, she replied with a calm that belied the significance of her words, "I would love to go back. Last time was with Richard, my ex-dance partner, for the Mundial tango competition. We were finalists in the tango salon division... not bad for two gringos," she said with a smile.
My heart remained suspended as my invitation hung in the air, while our conversation meandered through her past experiences and back to the prospect of Buenos Aires.
"Do you have a date in mind?" she asked, returning to my bold proposition.
With a mix of excitement and nervousness, I proposed timing it around my birthday and avoiding the Thanksgiving holiday. To my delight, she shared my sentiment about Thanksgiving and casually checked her black agenda.
"It looks like that week is my break from teaching," she announced.
It should be noted how fortuitous this was! Colette follows a rhythmic pattern with her group classes—six weeks teaching followed by one week off. The fact that her break perfectly aligned with my birthday time frame felt like yet another serendipitous sign from the universe.
We raised our glasses in a toast "To Buenos Aires" sealing our plan with clinking glasses. As we left Solare, the specifics of our conversation blurred into the background. What lingered was the exhilarating prospect of traveling to Buenos Aires together. In what capacity friends, teacher-student, or something more remained undefined. Yet, as I thought about my impending birthday, a wish began to take shape in my heart.