"Ladies and gentlemen," the bandleader spoke into the microphone. "It is time to announce the Prom King and Queen that you have chosen to honor for tonight's festivities." A hush fell over the crowd on the dancefloor and seated at the tables surrounding it.. "The queen of this Magical Night in Paradise is Emma McCann." Ladies in a rainbow array of long dresses and elbow length gloves, and men in black tuxedos applauded as Emma stepped breathlessly to the center of the floor. Her brown eyes glowed with delight; she hadn't expected her friends to choose her Queen of the Ball. "Tonight's King is Phillip Rogers," the master of ceremonies continues. Again, applause thundered through the elegant ballroom that hours before had been an ordinary dining room.
When he did not appear on the dancefloor, Emma looked around for Phil in the crowd of elegantly dressed friends. She smilled and shyly led him to the dance floor as the band began to play "Some Enchanted Evening." Phil's blue eyes filled with tears behind his glasses as he gazed into hers, as big and warm as the eyes of a doe looking at a newborn fawn. Though Emma was a tiny woman, only five foot two, she towered over him. Emma pushed Phil's wheelchair in time to the music, whirling him in graceful circles across the floor. Her fuzzy pink slippers seemed to float across the tile as the royal couple danced their special dance.
Phil couldn't take his eyes off Emma's face; she looked so beautiful. The joy in her features made her seem as fresh and vibrant as a teenaged girl under the spell of love's first bloom.. Moonbeams of happiness glowed from her huge, soft eyes. Her toothless smile radiated a warmth that made him feel young again. It scarcely mattered that a stroke had crippled him,so that he could no longer feel his body below his chest. Emma brought alive memories of passionate couplings beneath the stars when he was young and virile; he still remembered how wonderful it felt to be in love. To Phil, Emma's face and body were as lovely and sensual as they must have been fifty years ago. The veil of years could not hide the beauty that filled her heart and soul.
When the last bars of music faded to silence, tears rolled down Phillip's cheek. Emma pushed his wheelchair back to place and curtseyed, thanking Phil for the dance; her shimmering silver hair brushed his cheek as she bent to kiss him gently. She was so very happy tonight. Phil smiled through his tears at the girlish laugh and the blush on her cheeks. Emma would not remember this night when she awoke in the morning, pehaps the memories would dance away even before the band quit playing for the evening. Alzheimer's would steal these precious, happy memories from her, and although she was unaware, cancer was stealing the life from her lungs. Phillip, however, would treasure the dance, the smile, and Emma's sweet kiss in his heart long after she was gone.
