three

Sally Stark lay on the dance floor, one arm thrown to the side. She had lost a shoe in her fall. A young man was kneeling next to her, checking her pulse while everyone crowded around. The music stopped as the DJ realized the emergency.

The man called out, “She’s breathing but she needs help. Someone get help.” Several people had cell phones to their ears, but judging by their repeated attempts and frustration, they weren’t able to get a signal.

Dan turned to me. “There must be a landline inside.” He ran toward the door of the restaurant and I moved closer to the crowd surrounding Sally. Geneva was kneeling next to her. Dan returned a moment later. “They’re calling over to Santa Rosa from the Inn. An ambulance should be here soon.”

As we waited helplessly, the young man continued to hold Sally’s hand. No one moved, and if anyone spoke, it was only in whispers. I spotted Moira in the crowd. Her face was pale, her hand over her mouth in shock. Twenty minutes passed before we heard sirens from the road. The paramedics arrived and pushed through the crowd. One of them quickly checked Sally’s vital signs. They lifted her onto a gurney and carried their burden up the stairway to the waiting ambulance. The man who had been attending to Sally followed them, describing his efforts. A few moments later, the ambulance pulled away, its lights flashing and siren blaring.

Everyone let out a collective breath of relief that the emergency was now in someone else’s hands. The DJ returned to his console and, lowering the volume, played a soft ballad, hoping to recapture the earlier mood. The young man who’d tried to help Sally approached us. He shrugged helplessly. “I did what I could, but I don’t think it did any good. I just don’t know.”

“You seemed to know what you were doing,” Dan offered.

“I took a training course, but I’m no expert.”

“Well, I’m glad you were here.”

The man nodded and turned away. He and his companion gathered their things and approached Geneva to say good night. In spite of the music, several other people were making plans to leave.

Geneva hurried toward us. “Dan, Julia, we’ll do the cake cutting right away before everyone leaves, and then we can wind things up. We’ll keep it simple.” The newlyweds approached the small pavilion where the cake stood. The DJ made an announcement, and once the first slices were cut, everyone applauded halfheartedly.

“Damn.” Brooked moved next to me. “What a fizzle. I can’t imagine what happened to Sally. Maybe she’s diabetic. Moira was standing near her when it happened. She might have noticed something.” Brooke turned to me. “You’re coming back with us, aren’t you, Julia?”

“I twisted her arm,” Dan replied.

“Good.” Brooke smiled. “Once everyone’s gone, we can pack it in. I’m glad you’re joining us.”

At that point in the evening, I wasn’t, but deciding on tact, I smiled. “Thanks, Brooke. It sounds like fun.”