The story of Izak meeting Niki continues with their dance to “Dimples,” based in part on a story from my life.
Izak
“Izak, you know, I have wanted to dance with you since the night we met.”
Niki and I stepped out of my car into the brewery’s parking lot. It was another Thursday night, which meant the usual blues band would be playing. I already knew Niki wanted our first dance to be to “Dimples.”
Walking toward the entrance with our fingers interlocked, I said, “It should work out. I checked ahead, and it’s the same band as that night. I have to tell you, though, I am nervous about dancing with you.”
“Oh? Any particular reason?”
“Other than the obvious—that you have way more experience than I do—my most recent experience dancing was back in college with Emily…”
“Yes, I remember you telling me. To ‘Sea of Love,’ and you sang to each other. So, Izak, it will be fine. And you don’t even have to sing.”
“Funny. But Niki, I’ve seen you dance. Even by yourself, I’ve never been able to move like that.”
We paused at the door.
“So, dancing as a couple back then with Emily, did you actually know what you were doing?”
“Not really, no. We just held each other and moved.”
“I expect she held her own, which means you just followed her lead. That is all you have to do tonight.”
“Just follow you…” I held the door open for her.
She smiled as she walked past. “Exactly. Just follow me.”
* * *
Niki sat with me for the last couple of songs. The band’s leader began his introduction to the next song, “Dimples.”
“So, Izak, will you be okay dancing with the beer you have had?”
Niki had enjoyed a bit of beer as well, but she had still been out there dancing during her favorite songs with the usual group of women—several of whom were there the night we met.
“I can only promise to try,” I answered. “Beer or no beer, let’s do this.”
Niki took my hand and led me out onto the dance floor. I purposely turned my back on the spectators. As the music started, Niki took both of my hands.
“Izak, no one is judging us,” she said. “It is simply a dance.”
I nodded. Niki did too, but she was nodding in time with the beat. The dance moved swiftly through simple moves, at first, just holding hands as we moved together. Then with our hands alternating like pistons—my right hand extending toward Niki as her left hand met mine. After repeating this a few times, she told me to twirl her.
Sure, I thought. I’ve seen that move before.
Then it was her turn to twirl me. I fumbled, caught off guard by what it took to make that happen smoothly—especially given our height difference. It didn’t seem to matter to her, so I let it go. Suddenly, the rhythm shifted, blurring our movements as the tempo increased.
Niki
Izak was doing well on his first try with this kind of dance. It was especially impressive since I hadn’t told him everything I planned for us. I wanted to end on something we both would remember. I decided to try something I wouldn’t generally attempt with a total beginner: a counterbalance spin.
It was a move where we shared a single axis of rotation. With our hands firmly held and our arms stretched taut, I leaned back and started the spin. For someone who had no idea what to expect, Izak took to it as if he had done it a hundred times before.
“You are doing great, Izak,” I told him. “Don’t worry about anything. We are holding each other up now.”
Izak
We must have been. I knew Niki was right. I felt the rotation take hold, though I had no idea how she had actually started it. Suddenly, a vague sense of familiarity washed over me—a phantom memory of learning a dance for an elementary school May Day event.
I locked eyes with Niki, now only aware of her joyous smile. Then, the rest of the room disappeared.
Niki
The song was winding down. Trying to end at the same time the song did, I waited… Then, to bring us out of the spin, I planted my feet and pulled Izak slightly closer, absorbing the last of our momentum. The room slowed, but my heart didn’t. As we drifted to a stop, we were nearly touching, both of us breathing heavily. I didn’t let go of his hands. I looked up at him, the sound of the band playing replaced by applause for the band and the crowd’s murmuring. I waited to see if he felt the sudden shift in the air the same way I did.
Izak
The blur of neon and faces finally locked back into place, but my focus stayed entirely on Niki. The physical force of the spin was gone, replaced by a magnetic pull that felt twice as strong. The music had stopped, but she didn’t step back.
I looked at her smile, which had softened into something quiet and questioning. Lean in, my brain urged. I closed the tiny distance left between us. Her lips were warm, tasting faintly of the beer we’d shared and the electric energy of the dance floor. For a second time that night, the room completely disappeared.
Memory is the Key 