"Well, you need not worry," Linda said, straining to sound confident. "I'm a nurse, remember? I'm fine. Really!"
For a moment, the two women paused, in silence. Maggie nodded, gazing at the carpet, deep in thought. When she turned her gaze up to Linda again, her eyes and expression were really soft. "Well, I know you like to do the waltz and foxtrots, those big, glamorous dances that take up the entire floor."
Linda smiled. "You know me well."
"And I know that you're not going to be able to get into dance position very easily."
Linda interrupted her. "I know that. Don't you think I thought of all that? You've had other students who've been pregnant before, haven't you?"
Maggie looked down at Linda's swollen belly again, a pained expression on her face. "Yes, but they weren't as far along as you! Listen, I'm in touch with your best interests here. Don't you think it would be better if you waited, say three months? You'd be rested, and fit."
Linda had anticipated this. She searched her mind for the words to tell Maggie that everything was okay. "I realize your concerns," she began. "but I would like a lesson. I'll sign whatever paperwork you need me to sign."
Maggie looked shocked. "Honey, it's not about that."
Linda persisted. "Tell Roger I'm ready for my lesson. I'm going to go back out to the lobby."
Maggie sighed. "Okay."
She escorted Linda back out to the lounge area. As Linda passed by the floor, she saw an intense, dark-haired man schooling a mousy woman in her forties on the finer points of Cuban motion. She assumed that the average sized, powerful looking man was Jared, the star instructor at the studio these days.
Once again, Linda sat for barely a long enough time to get her seat warm before Maggie reappeared with a pleasant-looking young man. He had brown hair, fair skin and an eighteen-ninetiesh look to him somehow. His eyes were expressive and lively when Maggie brought him over to meet her. Maggie said "Linda Heron, I'd like you to meet Roger, our brightest young instructor."
He smiled warmly for her. As he reached forward to shake her hand, Linda assessed him. He was an average sized-man, just a smidge taller than Maggie and thickly built. He looked nice, though, and Linda knew that many of his women students had probably fallen in love with him. She realized that it was unfair of her to compare her against the example of the dashing man in the marble ballroom from her dreams. At the same time, this reinforced her belief that such a man did not exist in this plane.