The regulars, Herbert, Don, and Joseph waited at their usual table, drinking their cups of coffee, a deck of cards in the middle of the table. When the boss (i.e. the program manager, Sheila) wasn't around, we'd play poker, but poker was frowned upon, so we often played gin rummy instead. These guys told me everything I knew. I had no idea how to play cards until I met them.

Before I entered the senior center, I noticed that Sheila's car wasn't in the parking lot. That meant today was going to be a poker kind of day. We mostly played with Monopoly money. Other times we bet each other coffee and donuts from the nearby Dunkin.

"You're late," Herbert said to me as I sat down at their table.

A Korean vet, eighty-five-year-old Herbert Weinberg never went anywhere without his United States Marine Corps baseball cap. He was even more anal than I was and always gave me a hard time whenever I was late, even if it was only by five minutes. Today I was more than five minutes late, thanks to Levi Blum.

"Sorry about that," I said, reaching for the deck of cards. Joe swatted at my hand, nearly slapping it.

"It's Joe's turn to shuffle," Don said in his raspy, former cigarette-smoking voice. After thirty years of chain smoking, he quit last year at the age of seventy-eight, following a week-long stay in the hospital with COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) exacerbation. He also had pneumonia and was treated with antibiotics. He told me all about it.

"Just one of these days I'd like to see a game of strip poker," seventy-six-year-old Gloria said, sitting at the adjacent table with three other ladies.

"There's only one man here I'd like to see naked," Jeanette said, one of my dance partners. For an eighty-two-year-old woman, she had some pretty good moves and she was the friskiest one here. "Right, Ezra, honey?"

"Oh, stop it," Joe said. "You're embarrassing the boy again. He's too young for you."

"I never said I wanted to marry him," Jeanette said. "I can look, can't I?"

The words that came out of Jeanette's mouth were enough to make anyone blush. I bet she was a lot of fun in her younger days. She often talked about her husband of fifty years, who passed away nine years ago. Although she liked my ass, she told me her husband's wasn't as boney as mine. I had heard her husband looked like Santa Claus, both with his white beard and big belly.

By the way, my ass was never boney.

Jeanette had a touch of dementia, but not as much as Millie. Then again, Millie was ninety-eight years old and was bound to be forgetful. I reserved a dance for her every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at one o'clock. Bobby Darrin's Beyond the Sea was our song, even though Bobby Darrin wasn't from her era. Her era was more Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. Beyond the Sea was so ingrained in her memory and her routine, it became part of my routine.

Although Millie forgot a lot of things, she never forgot my face, the song, or how to dance.

My days didn't feel complete if Millie wasn't there. She always wore a headband in her shoulder-length gray hair, along with matching earrings and necklaces, reminding me of my grandmother who passed away when I was fifteen. Like my grandmother, purple was also her favorite color. Some days Millie didn't make it due to illness or a doctor's appointment.

"Is it time to dance?" Millie asked.

"It's only ten thirty," Don said. "Give the boy a break. He just got here. Dancing's at one."

"At one o'clock, Millie," I reminded her.

"Stop distracting him," Herbert said. "He's gotta focus."

The way I looked at it, I got paid to play cards, dance, sing, and play my guitar. While Bingo was always popular, so was Name That Tune, which was a lot of fun when I was in the mood to play.

If I could, I'd work five days a week, but my position was only funded for three days. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and an occasional Sunday, I often entertained for an hour or two at the local nursing homes for a small fee. I sometimes entertained for free because I enjoyed it so much. I got to sing and play all the oldies my grandparents used to listen to. My grandmother was the one who introduced me to all the oldies.

This particular senior center meant a lot to me because my grandmother used to come here, and she often took me with her. As a teen, I'd volunteer, singing and playing guitar, doing what I did now, only now I got paid. Whenever I landed in the hospital, staff and clients would send me Get Well cards. I must have been the weirdest twenty-four-year-old where my friends' average age was eighty.

The only married couple, Eleanor and Jack Carpenter, married seventy years, often joined in the dancing. Jack once told me he "he's been married seventy years and never strayed once." I guess that's something to be proud of. I couldn't imagine being with someone for seventy years.

After losing miserably to a group of old men, I helped Doris, the volunteer, set up for lunch. Just as lunch was served, Millie's daughter showed up to take her to a doctor's appointment. From then on, I knew my day was going to suck. I hated it when she left early. It always threw the rest of my day off. If I couldn't dance to Beyond the Sea, what the hell was I supposed to do? No one could dance as well as she.

When Millie left, I wanted to leave, too, but I was scheduled to work until three o'clock. I perused my playlist, searching for another song. Jeanette was always up for a dance.

Except not today, unfortunately.

"Let's play Name that Tune," Doris said.

I wasn't in the mood for Name that Tune, but I didn't have much of a choice. Today was a particularly off day because I didn't dance with anyone. Everyone was tired, although I had fun playing Heart and Soul on the piano with Mrs. Carpenter, the retired middle school music teacher.

Did I mention I could play the piano, too?

But piano was not my forte, that's for sure.

When I got home, I found a truck parked along the side of the road. What the hell's going on? I wondered before realizing that the new tenant was moving in. How could I forget?

Instead of offering to help, I stood on the lawn, watching Levi and another guy clumsily lug a couch down the concrete steps, attempting to get the thing through the front door of the basement apartment.

"Ezra, stop staring," Aunt Ruth said. "Come help me make dinner. It's almost sundown."

Abruptly, Levi let go of the couch in the doorway, catching his breath. Judging by the yelp, I suspected he dropped the couch on his foot. I couldn't stand to see these two guys struggle.

"Where are you going, Ezra?" Aunt Ruth asked.

"I'm going to help," I replied.

It wasn't customary for the landlord or landlord's family to help move in a tenant, but so far there was nothing customary or ordinary about this tenant.

"Oh, Ezra, I wish you wouldn't," Aunt Ruth said.

"Just give me a minute," I told her. "Can I give you a hand?" I asked the two men.

"Yeah, that would be great," Levi said, standing at the foot of the stairs. "This is Isaiah. He plays in my band."

"You have a band?" I asked, genuinely curious. In my maladaptive daydreaming, I envisioned myself singing and playing in a band.

"He's in more than one band," Isaiah said. "As a drummer, he gets to play in different bands. He's a hot commodity."

"You don't look like a drummer," I said to Levi.

"What do I look like?"

"You look like... hmm... you look like a writer or an English teacher. You're too skinny to be a drummer."

Isaiah burst into laughter, not realizing I was dead serious. I mean, Levi was tall and lanky, not what I expected a drummer to look like. I could be presumptuous at times.

"That's a bit judgmental of you, isn't it?" Levi said to me.

"Can we get this thing inside?" Isaiah said. "It's getting cold. When I agreed to help you, you never mentioned we'd be moving big pieces of furniture. I wasn't prepared for this."

Standing beside Levi, I picked up the couch, and together, with Isaiah at the top of the stairs, we managed to get the couch inside. We parked it in the middle of the room, between all the boxes.

"Who is this guy?" Isaiah asked.

"Oh, yeah," Levi said. "This is Ezra. He's the landlord's nephew. He's a damn good singer. Doesn't play too badly, either."

"What do you play?" Isaiah asked.

"Guitar and a bit of piano," I said, heading out of the apartment.

I stopped at the top of the stairs, desperate to alleviate the emptiness I felt whenever my day was out of whack.

"Do either of you like to dance?" I asked.

Usually I'd get Aunt Ruth to dance with me, but she wasn't always in the mood. Besides, these guys were much cuter and way more interesting.

"I'm not gay," Isaiah quickly responded.

"You don't have to be gay to dance," I said. "I usually dance on Fridays, but my dance partner wasn't around."

These two men stared at me like I had ten heads. This was why I had no friends. I was way too weird.

"I'll lead," I said as if that would make a difference in their decision to dance with me.

"Well, if you're going to lead," Levi said.

"You're nuts," Isaiah laughed as I placed my phone on the couch, hitting play. "This song's in Goodfellas," he said as Beyond the Sea started.

"I've never seen it," Levi admitted.

What? I couldn't believe what I just heard. Goodfellas was one of my favorite movies. Maybe that's how Millie and I ended up dancing to that song. I bet I watched the movie the night before I introduced her to the song.

"Maybe we could watch it some time," I said, taking Levi's clammy hand in mine.

"I'm leaving," Isaiah announced, but Levi was too busy following my lead to pay any attention to his friend/bandmate/assistant mover.

Levi wasn't a bad dancer, but I was always a pretty good leader. When the song ended, we stood there, awkwardly facing each other.

"Thanks for humoring me," I said.

"Thanks for your help," he said.

"Ezra, are you in there?" my aunt Ruth said at the top of the stairs. Isaiah had left the door open, but Levi and I were both too warm to notice the cool draft. We needed some cooling off, anyway.

"I... I better go," I said. "I'm coming!" I called up to my aunt.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for that drink, right?" he said as I backed away.

"Yep," I said. "One o'clock."

Starving, I ran up the stairs to deal with a disapproving Aunt Ruth.

"Your face is red," she stated as if that was a bad thing.

"Yeah, we were dancing," I said. "He's cute, don't you think?"

"Let's go inside," she said.

With the song still playing in my head and Levi's scent still lingering, I followed my aunt back to our house.