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wish you all the joy of Gods blessing... your five children ... your twelve grandchildren . . . your twenty great grandchildren . . . and all your in-laws and out-laws. YEAH! SALUTE! LUCK! YAAA! SALUTE!!!! and everyone cheered and sipped their drink or emptied their glass and continued cheering as each one of the family kissed the golden and radiant couple, and with each kiss another cheer went up. When the endless parade finished, the Anniversary Waltz was played and they spun around the floor, slowly, but joyously, and everyone reached for someones hand as they watched the couple dance, their eyes looking into each others with the fire of endless joy as husbands and wives, parents and children, hugged each other and watched with moist eyes.
      Harry had his arm around his grandmother while his mother held his other hand. When the song ended, everyone cheered and the golden anniversary couple bowed slightly, like timid children, and were eventually absorbed by the people. You know, son, looking up at Harry with a hint of tears still in her eyes and the softness of fond memories on her face, your grandfather and I would have been married fifty years this October if he were still alive, God bless his soul.
      Harry smiled at her for a moment, then took her half empty glass and put it on a table along with his. Comeon grandma, lets dance. They joined the others who were dancing, and Mr. and Mrs. White beamed with pride as they watched them merge into the crowd; then they too joined the dancers.
    It seemed like every time Harry put an empty glass down,
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    someone was handing him another drink, and so he felt looser and looser and looser. And so was his grandmother. The half of a manhattan she had went directly to her head and she was dancing, sort of, with an old friend, kicking and wiggling in a confused version of a Brooklyn cancan. Harry joined the others, including his parents, who were clapping their hands as they watched her dance, but after a few minutes she stopped with a long wwwhhhheeeewwwwwwwww, and sat down, enjoying the laughter and attention.
      Harry continued to circulate among the guests, calculat-ingly sipping on his drink, slowly, not wanting to put an empty glass down and have another full one shoved in his hand. He was starting to feel the drinks and wanted to be careful. He put a cigarette out in an ashtray on a coffee table, and when he straightened up, he almost fell into the arms of a woman who was more than feeling her drinks. When he bumped her, she instinctively reached out and put her arms around him to keep from falling, Harry supporting her by holding her under the upper arms. When they finished with their, ooops, sorry . .. look out... are you all right? and stopped swaying back and forth, Harry withdrew his hands, but she continued to keep hers on his shoulders. Gee, I'm really sorry. I hope I didn't mess you up or anything.
    No, no. No harm done, smiling, everythings fine.
      Whats your name, tilting her head to one side, looking into his face, her lips slightly parted.
    Harry. Harry White, returning the smile and look.
      Mines Gina. Gina Logan. It used to be Gina Merretti, but thats a long time ago, gesturing with her hand. You can call me Gina.
    Glad to meet you, Gina, nodding his head and smiling.
    Harry, a quizzical look on her face, thats not so bad.
    Thanks, laughing.
    Why dont you dance with me, Harry? Come on.
      O.K., why not? shrugging his shoulders, then putting an open hand on her back as they eased themselves into the group of dancers.
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      Harrys reaction to Gina was Pavlovian, and his evaluation and assessment of her attributes were instant. She was probably in her forties, early forties, but looked at least five years younger, maybe even more, even though it was obvious she had a little too much to drink and it altered her appearance. All in all she was not a bad-looking head—her left hand clung to the back of his neck, moist and warm and alive—and his