The Ukrainian has gamely agreed to take a short series of private dance lessons with me so that we can not make a fool out of ourselves impress all our guests at our American family wedding to be held here in San Francisco in less than 3 weeks. On Saturday, I called the Cheryl Burke Dance Center in the Portrero Hill neighborhood to arrange for our lessons. “You will be with Serge,” the receptionist told me. Oooo….Serge, I thought, imagining some Russian ballet star.
Sure enough, today the Ukrainian and I arrived at the dance lesson 15 minutes early to be greeted by Serge. And what were the first word’s out of Serge’s mouth? “You speak Russian?” — to the Ukrainian, of course, not to me.
“Da,” the Ukrainian replied.
I excused myself for a moment to leave them to bond in their mother tongue to use the ladies room. When I returned, the Ukrainian said, “Baby, not only is Serge Russian, but he is from Ukraine!!!”
“See, baby. I really am the best wife!” was all I could reply. Silently, I thanked God for small coincidences.