"When you asked me to dinner, this isn't what I expected," Thomas confessed as we made our way inside the elegant theatre.

"Consider it a welcome to Italia gift," I smiled and then quickly turned my attention to the host. Heat rose in my cheeks. A server then lead us up the stairs to a balcony area with the ideal view to the stage. The table had candles, warm bread and butter, and little chocolates. Lucille reached for a chocolate and unwrapped it with a slight smile. I'm pleased that she's enjoying herself a little. I was concerned that she would feel like Thomas was dragging her here, and her somber mood seemed to confirm that when I introduced myself. Hopefully, the rest of the night will go smoothly.

A moment later, a waiter placed menus in front of us.

"We're having dinner here?" Thomas exclaimed with thinly veiled boyish excitement. I chuckled but quickly covered it with a cough and a sip of water when I saw Lucille grimace slightly before she popped the chocolate into her mouth. Maybe in England it isn't proper to show such enthusiasm. "You're being overly generous, Enola."

I straightened, satisfied by his response. "It is not a problem. Since my husband and both my parents have passed, I have more...luxuries than I anticipated having. It's a joy to share it with others." Lucille's face went blank and Thomas' smile was fading. "It is alright. This happened a long time ago."

Thomas opened his mouth and then closed it.

"Would you be alright if I ordered for the table?" I offered. "I'm guessing you are not too familiar with Italian dishes?"

"Not at all. That sounds lovely, thank you," Thomas smiled politely. I beckoned our waiter and placed our order. After he left, a sinking feeling came over me.

I sighed. Young women have it so much easy. They can flirt and tease, and they become more of the delicacy that men hasten to devour. I miss being looked at with lust...and love. But if I do that now, my words, in this aging body, would be less of an enticement and more of a repellent. I seem to wear my age no matter how much paint and powder I put on my face. Maybe tonight will only be a nice time with potentially a new friend and his sister. Nothing more.

The theatre darkened and candles were ignited one by one on the stage, each lit candle floating to light another. The dancers were softly illuminated. Both Lucille and Thomas leaned forward for a better view. Each couple had a candle in their joined hands. When the music started, in sequence, each couple moved to the steady pace of a waltz. The long flowing gowns moved and vanished like smoke only to be seen again on the other side of the stage. Faces faded in and out. The flames would also dance and flicker but none were blown out despite the swift movements of the performers. The theatre gradually lightened so all the dancers were visible. When they stilled and the music stopped, applause broke the silence and then the dancers were replaced with actors.

"How did the candles stay alight?" Thomas asked, transfixed. When he looked at the table, his eyebrows rose in surprise to see our food had been delivered without his notice. I took a bite of my food, prolonging his curiosity.

"That's what the perfect waltz looks like. If the candle does not go out, then you have passed the test."