Dora Hutchins was tired. Her arthritic hands ached and her head was pounding. She had been up since early that morning and couldn't remember if she had eaten. Nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She caressed her lover's head and whispered, "Jane, my beautiful Jane. I don't know if I can make it without you." She swallowed hard, "I don't know what to do." Tears slid from bright slate gray eyes, eyes garnished with laugh lines earned over many years of life. Eyes now draped in sadness and an emptiness to painful to question. Those eyes roamed over the tubes and wires attached to the still body of the woman she had loved for over forty years.

"Miss Dora," the night nurse walked in quietly, "it's almost time to go."

"Oh, Sandi." Dora smiled at the young woman who had once been one of her students. Fifty years of teaching had brought many young promising minds into her classroom. She remembered most of them. As if picking up a previous conversation, she continued, "I was reminding Jane of what a wonder you were in high school. You were such a star in my history class, asking questions, always wanting to know more. Goodness, I thought for sure you would be a teacher."

The embarrassed nurse struggled for an answer, "Thank you, Miss Dora. I loved your classes, but I always wanted to be a nurse like my mom."

"I remember," Dora reminisced. She turned back to the woman lying silently in the hospital bed, "You always told me to encourage them, no matter what I wanted. You certainly were right about Sandi. Look at her now." Dora softly stroked the familiar cheek. Driving back another tear, she continued, "You were right. Look at what an outstanding job she is doing taking care of you."

The nurse leaned over the older woman, "Miss Dora, I'm sorry but visiting hours for ICU are over."

Her head nodded but her heart remained with her partner, "I know. I just don't want to leave her alone."

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of Miss Jane. She'll be okay tonight while you go home and rest. You know how she always worried about you. She wouldn't want you to get too tired."

Patting her former student's hand, Dora replied, "I know, my dear, but, you see, we have only been apart once in all these years," Dora found herself sliding back into her memories of life with Jane Creighton as she had so many times since finding her lover unconscious this morning, "and that was my fault." Her voice softened and became distant, "It was her daughter's college graduation and I didn't think it was proper that I be there. I know things are different now," Dora said, hinting at the openness Sandi and her partner shared, "but back then we…, well, things were just different. You know, I think that's the only real argument we've ever had. Janey was so angry with me. She drove down the 125 miles to the college in record time and stayed gone the whole weekend. I was so worried about her and she didn't call. And I couldn't get her at the motel." Dora felt the worry and fear as if she was back reliving the weekend. She shuttered and returned to the present, "Of course, then we didn't have cell phones." She paused, recalling how miserable and sleepless she was the entire weekend, and then continued, "By the time she got back, I was frantic. Poor thing, she looked like she had lost ten pounds in two days. On that tall lanky frame, she looked too thin."

"I'm sure Miss Jane would understand if you went home and got some rest. She would be angry at both of us if you didn't take care of yourself or take your heart medicine. Miss Dora, you go on home tonight and I will call you if anything changes."

Dora held on to the chilled hand of her love - a lifeline giving her the courage to keep going. "Oh, Jane, I don't want to leave you." Tears again filled the grey, smile-lined eyes, "Please don't leave me."

Sandi put an arm around the older woman and helped her up. "Go home, please," she whispered. "Miss Jane needs some rest. We probably won't know the full impact of the stroke until tomorrow when they run some more tests. She will need you then. This is still the first day and it can be several days before we know anything." The soft spoken nurse walked her favorite teacher to the elevator, hugged her and promised to call if anything changed.

As the elevator doors closed, Sandi silently thanked Miss Dora and Miss Jane for saving her life. Miss Dora had been the adult she trusted enough to talk to when her own life had pirouetted out of control. Her senior year of college an emotional roller coaster after her first love affair with a woman had ended disastrously, she wasn't sure if she would be able to finish classes that semester. Desolate and confused, she remembered her favorite high school teacher and the teacher's friend. Everyone in town was aware of the "special" relationship of the two kind ladies, but no one ever said a harsh word against them. Over the years they had become an accepted part of the fabric of life in the town.

At 22, Sandi found herself driving back to her home town and ending up on her teacher's doorstep. The distraught student wasn't sure where else to go. The diminutive Miss Dora, her graying blonde hair askew, her eyes filled with the familiar twinkle, opened the door. "Good heavens, Sandi. I haven't seen you since you left for college. Come on in. My dear is something wrong?"

"Now, dear," Jane took Sandi's arm and lead her into the kitchen, "give the youngster a chance to have a seat and relax. I'm sure she is tired from that drive." Turning to Sandi, she continued pointing to the kitchen table, "You have a seat and chat with Dori. I'll make us all some tea. I hope you don't mind decaf. When you get to be our age," the talkative retired lawyer caressed the face of her partner, "all that caffeine just makes us twitchy old biddies, interrupts our sleep, and makes us forgetful. Heaven knows we need as much help remembering as possible." Miss Jane efficiently went about boiling water and brewing tea as she talked, never skipping a beat. Sandi was amazed at the warmth and love that emanated from the taller woman every time she passed by the smaller one. "Most people think old people are crazy anyway and we don't need to be giving them more excuses to think we are crazier than we are. Isn't that right, Dori?" Her hand grazed her adored's shoulder as she continued, "Of course, when we go dancing every Thursday night out at the club, all those young people keep telling us we are too old to be doing such fancy footwork."

The easy atmosphere and acceptance helped Sandi to relax. As she did, her own loss filled her. Sandi leaned back in her seat and the pent up anger and hurt took over. Tears flowed freely and she wondered if she would ever have anyone to dance with.

"Now look, Janie, you've made Sandi cry. Sit down and be quiet." Sandi felt the slender, almost fragile arms of her former teacher surround her and welcome her. "I know you didn't come back from the university to sit and hear two old ladies. What's going on?"

For the next two hours Sandi slowly peeled away the layers of hurt. As she did, she found acceptance and hope. Even more, she found herself. By the time Sandi left she knew she would be okay. It would take time, but she would be okay. Ten years later, Sandi recognized that had been a turning point in her life. Miss Dora and Miss Jane had saved her life. For this evening she would do whatever was possible to make sure that Miss Jane was well cared for while her friend went home to rest.



Dora slowly opened the door to the house she and Jane had shared for twenty-three years. The detritus strewn about the living room gave testimony to the morning's hectic activities. The EMT's had arrived promptly. Dora watched anxiously as they stuck tubes and needles into the tall thin woman. Once the paramedics were sure that Jane Creighton was stable they rushed her to the hospital. Picking up the torn paper scraps, Dora tidied up the living room, trying to put back together the pieces of her life. The house was too quiet. Her talkative partner had filled their house, and lives, with her constant chatter and optimism.

Sitting down, Dora at last felt the stress and anxiety of the day overwhelm her. As she leaned her head back, she allowed her thoughts to flow back to the first time she had met Jane. A tall, attractive woman had come into her classroom during the first parent-teacher night of the school year at the high school. That was so long ago.

"Hello, I'm Jane Creighton and my son Mark is in your American history class. He speaks so highly of you. I've been looking forward to meeting you. We've just moved to this area over the summer. I've accepted a job…." Jane continued on, but Dora was no longer listening. She was stunned at the endless prattle of the attractive stranger.

Obviously not from around here, Dora decided. "Nice to meet you," she spewed out in a brief silence respite. "I'm…"

"Dora Hutchins," Jane Creighton finished as she stuck out her hand. Surprised by the unfamiliar gesture, Dora put out her hand and accepted the larger one. "You are all my son Mark talks about. He has never, and I repeat never, been interested in History. How you do it I don't know. I want to thank you anyway. By the way, how is Mark doing in class?"

Dora stood there for almost a full minute before noticing the taller woman was not speaking. Mark's mother was definitely a commanding presence. Pulling herself together, she shifted into her more accustomed role, "Mark is a delight in class. He has worked very hard and is doing quite well. I'm somewhat surprised to learn that he hasn't had an interest in history. He not only reads the assigned readings but is bringing in outside information. He seems so enthusiastic about the subject. Here, let me show you some of his work." Dora pulled out a folder and, as the taller woman came to stand close beside her, she felt a warmness grow inside her. Goodness! she thought, I'm blushing. I hope she doesn't notice.

"Mark wrote this? Wow, I am surprised." Jane Creighton read the report as she spoke, "I mean, I've always known my kids are bright but I never knew Mark had such writing ability. Science and math always seemed his strengths. It definitely looks like he's doing well in your class." Jane looked at each page and commented. She was proud of her children regardless of anything they did academically. She turned and stared at the diminutive figure next to her and stared into lovely gray eyes. She felt herself pulled into the warmth she saw there. "How do you do it?" she inquired. If asked, Jane Creighton wasn't sure what she was asking.

Dora felt something inside her move. It made her uncomfortable. Stepping away from her student's mother, she put the folder away. "I love what I teach and I hope I can convey some of that to my students."

For the first time, Jane struggled for words. Realizing another parent had come into the room, she again put out her hand and was pleased when she felt the smaller hand fill hers. "It was a pleasure to meet you," the taller woman said, "and I want to thank you for all you have done for my son." She held the warm hand a moment longer and smiled, "Thank you." As she let go of Dora's hand, Jane felt an unfathomable loss. Some inexplicable event had drawn a line on Dora Hutchins' life page and only time would reveal how and where her life would go.

Jane Creighton's success as a lawyer was due to two traits: her persistence in pursing any task and her persuasiveness. To her surprise and frustration, Jane found Miss Dora Hutchins' impervious to the lawyer's determined efforts. The taller woman volunteered for every class field trip and activity. She attended every parent/teacher event. She showed up at least twice a month to have lunch with both of her kids. When the roof leaked into Dora's classroom and volunteers were recruited to move the teacher to a temporary classroom, and back, Jane was the first to arrive and the last to leave. Eight months after first meeting the intriguing teacher, she finally convinced Dora to have dinner with her - but only after Mark had finished school for the year and was no longer Dora's student.



Feeling chilled Dora woke suddenly and realized she had fallen asleep in Jane's chair dreaming about her lover. She could almost feel the long arms surround her. Reluctant to move to the empty bedroom, she walked over to the couch and grabbed the blanket. Going back to Jane's chair, she covered herself and wondered if she should call the hospital. She looked at the clock. It was three o'clock.



"Three o'clock. I didn't realize it was that late." The lawyer stood and moved towards the door. "Dora Hutchins, thank you for a remarkable evening. I don't remember the last time I've enjoyed anything…or anyone… this much." She put her hand out to the woman who had quietly and unassumingly stolen her heart during the past year. As Dora put her smaller hand into the larger one, the teacher felt her heart rate quicken. Jane rubbed her thumb over the smaller hand, "Thank you." She loved watching the blush creep up the younger woman's face. Reluctant to end the evening, Jane Creighton asked, "Think I could persuade you to put up with my company Saturday? We could drive to Orlando and go out." Jane was well aware she had fallen in love with the quiet, young teacher. She did not yet know if the woman reciprocated the feeling or even could love a woman. She was willing to take the risk, however.

"I would love to," Dora grinned. "Do you suppose there would be someplace we could go dancing?" Surprised by her own boldness, Dora withdrew her hand and stared down at the floor. For the past week all she could think about was being held by the taller woman.

The smile that crossed Jane Creighton's face lit up the room. And Dora's heart. Jane tried to be nonchalant, "I am sure we could find someplace to dance."

The drive to Orlando passed quickly, the two women lost in talking about so many things. Somewhere along the interstate, Jane reached for the smaller hand. The entwined hands remained clasped until they approached their Orlando exit. "Why don't we decide where we will stay tonight and then we can find a place to eat?" Dora eagerly agreed. As they finished dinner, Jane broached the topic of dancing. The normally assured lawyer was hesitant, "I, uh,…"

Dora watched in amusement. Long fingers played with the cloth napkin and the dancing dark eyes refused to look up. I don't believe this. Jane Creighton is speechless.

"I, uh, thought we might…that is, if you want…."

Reaching across the table to touch the top of her nervous friend's hand, she offered, "Do you think there is someplace we could dance? With each other?"

The look of relief was its own reward. "I, uh, found someplace that we could go. Are you sure?" Brown eyes stared into the gray ones, needing reassurance.

The sudden vulnerability Dora saw in the lawyer's question warmed her. "Yes," she smiled, "I am sure."

The club was packed with women dancing, most much younger. Jane held the small hand as they wend their way to the dance floor. Turning to the smaller woman, Jane leaned next to the well-formed ear and asked, "May I have this dance?" As she stepped into the long arms, Dora felt as if she had finally found a home for her heart.

They danced until the club closed, always with each other. Mostly fast music at first but then as the night got later, slower music was played. Jane pulled the smaller woman tight against her. "I have dreamed of this since the first night I met you. It is even better than I could have imagined." Jane loved the smell of the smaller woman, the warmth against her body. She knew that she would spend the rest of her life with Dora Hutchins.

All summer the weekend found them driving to Orlando and dancing. Dora felt so alive in her taller partner's arms. She never wanted the dance to end. By summer's end, Jane asked Dora to live with her.

"What about your children? What will they think?"

"It doesn't matter. I want to live with you."

"Jane, honey, they do matter."

"Dora, they want to know why we aren't living together."

Stunned, Dora stood and walked away from her lover, "What are you talking about?"

The lop-sided grin filled the lawyer's face, "Well, they asked why we spend so much time together and yet we don't live together. They both think the world of you and would love the idea."

It took some persuasion but Jane Creighton was determined. Her family would not be complete until Dora Hutchins was a part of it. Many years later, after the kids were out of college, they sold that house and built their dream home together. The color outside had changed over the years. Furniture had been replaced. Yet it was still the same wonderful, new place they first moved into. And no matter where they lived, the couple continued to spend at least one night a week dancing.



By nine o'clock, a weary Dora Hutchins had showered, changed clothes, and returned to the hospital. Dreams and memories had filled the hours of waiting while sleep had been intermittent.

"Hello, Miss Dora. She is resting. No change." The nurse at the desk was another former student.

"Thank you, Kendra. I'll just go in and sit with her awhile. Her children will be arriving later today and I want to have some time with her."

Dora immediately went into the intensive care room and took her seat by her lover. "Good morning, my darling. How are you? I missed you." She stroked her lover's soft hair, stood, leaned and kissed the chilled lips. "I'm so tired today. I couldn't sleep in that bed without you." She sat back down and began to relate some of the memories that had filled her dreams and thoughts. "I was remembering when we first danced. You were always such a good dancer. Whenever there was a new step, you learned them so easily. And you were so patient in teaching me. Oh, what a wonderful time we have together."

For the next two hours she talked. Slowly she relived the years with the tall dark-haired woman who had brought so much life into hers. Sometime around one p.m. Jane's children and grandchildren would be arriving. Until then, Dora would spend the time with her love, talking and sharing.

"Do you remember when you tried to teach me to two-step?" Dora reached for her friend's hand before she continued, "I was more like three feet. It took me forever to finally get it. I never laughed so hard or so much. You were gallant and patient." Squeezing the larger hand, she added, "You've always been patient with me." Dora could hear strains of an old love song playing in the distance as she talked. The thought of not dancing again with her partner tore at her heart. She lay her head down on the hospital bed and tried to push the pain away. "I can't do it," she cried, "I can't." She felt a gentle squeeze of her hand while a stronger one grabbed her heart. The song was louder and familiar. It was the first slow song they had danced to.

A familiar voice, a little more raspy, but still familiar, spoke, "I know, my love. I can't imagine not being able to dance with you."

"Janey, oh, Janey. I thought I had lost you." Dora smiled at the dark eyes and felt her chest explode."

"I promised I would never leave you. That first weekend we went to Orlando. Remember when we checked into the motel? I told you then that I would wait until you were ready, but I would never leave you."

"I need to get the nurse and let them know." Dora tried to lift her head but found it difficult to move. "Janey, something is wrong."

"No, my love. Listen. Can you hear the music? I just want one more dance with you." As she spoke she firmly gripped the smaller hand. With amazing strength, Jane stood up and pulled her younger partner with her. "One dance. One more. One to last a lifetime."

The music grew louder, covering the alarms and the voices growing dimmer. "Jane, you still dance as well now as you did that first weekend. And you look as wonderful." Dora placed her smaller hand into her lover's and slowly they moved together, lost in each other's gaze. They would have the rest of their lives to dance.