The Last Dance ~ Songs To Stories Volume VII ~ By Britt Wolfe
Inspired By: Holy Ground (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift
He thought he had forgotten her. Until her name reappeared in print—and brought it all rushing back.
When Walter Callahan reads the obituary of Margaret Dawson, the love he lost more than sixty years ago, the quiet rhythm of his days is shattered. Once a brilliant NASA engineer, now an old man surrounded by silence, Walter is swept back into the dazzling warmth of a love that shaped him—one that danced its way into his soul and never truly left.
Their story unfolds in the shadow of history, in the golden hours of a Texas autumn and the hushed heartbreak of November 22, 1963. As Walter revisits the places where he loved her, where he lost her, and where their lives forever changed, he is haunted by the memories of a girl with music in her fingers and forever in her eyes.
The Last Dance is a sweeping, poignant reflection on the kind of love that arrives only once, echoes through a lifetime, and still makes your heart ache decades later. For every reader who’s ever wondered what might have been, this is a story that reminds us: some dances are meant to be remembered.
Inspired By: Holy Ground (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift
He thought he had forgotten her. Until her name reappeared in print—and brought it all rushing back.
When Walter Callahan reads the obituary of Margaret Dawson, the love he lost more than sixty years ago, the quiet rhythm of his days is shattered. Once a brilliant NASA engineer, now an old man surrounded by silence, Walter is swept back into the dazzling warmth of a love that shaped him—one that danced its way into his soul and never truly left.
Their story unfolds in the shadow of history, in the golden hours of a Texas autumn and the hushed heartbreak of November 22, 1963. As Walter revisits the places where he loved her, where he lost her, and where their lives forever changed, he is haunted by the memories of a girl with music in her fingers and forever in her eyes.
The Last Dance is a sweeping, poignant reflection on the kind of love that arrives only once, echoes through a lifetime, and still makes your heart ache decades later. For every reader who’s ever wondered what might have been, this is a story that reminds us: some dances are meant to be remembered.
Inspired By: Holy Ground (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift
He thought he had forgotten her. Until her name reappeared in print—and brought it all rushing back.
When Walter Callahan reads the obituary of Margaret Dawson, the love he lost more than sixty years ago, the quiet rhythm of his days is shattered. Once a brilliant NASA engineer, now an old man surrounded by silence, Walter is swept back into the dazzling warmth of a love that shaped him—one that danced its way into his soul and never truly left.
Their story unfolds in the shadow of history, in the golden hours of a Texas autumn and the hushed heartbreak of November 22, 1963. As Walter revisits the places where he loved her, where he lost her, and where their lives forever changed, he is haunted by the memories of a girl with music in her fingers and forever in her eyes.
The Last Dance is a sweeping, poignant reflection on the kind of love that arrives only once, echoes through a lifetime, and still makes your heart ache decades later. For every reader who’s ever wondered what might have been, this is a story that reminds us: some dances are meant to be remembered.
Excerpt From The Last Dance By Britt Wolfe
The names always came at the end. He never rushed to get there.
He flipped through the world as it was—headlines about people who would be forgotten, stories about technology he no longer understood, articles that reminded him how far he had drifted from the centre of it all. And then, inevitably, the pages thinned, the ink grew smaller, and a procession of names waited for him.
It hadn’t always been like this. There had been a time when he had skimmed past these pages, uninterested in the names of strangers, in the ceremonial rites of people he had never met. But everything had changed the year he retired. Only a few months after he left NASA, an old friend—Ed Koenig, one of the best engineers he had ever known—had passed away unexpectedly. The obituary had been buried in the back pages, a brief paragraph that barely scratched the surface of the man’s brilliance. It had unsettled Walter in a way he hadn’t anticipated. If Ed—sharp, strong, meticulous Ed—could go so suddenly, so quietly, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Since then, Walter had read the Births, Deaths And Marriages section religiously, as if tracking the names of the lost might prepare him for his own inevitable place among them.
Today, his gaze drifted down the page, the familiar rhythm of names and dates lulling him into complacency—until he saw it.
A woman's name.
His breath caught.
A name that brought memories and regret rushing to the surface, but also feelings of warmth and of perfect togetherness.
Margaret Wilkes.
Walter’s fingers tightened around the paper, his pulse quickening. The name was printed in simple, unassuming typeface, tucked between strangers whose lives he had never touched. But hers—hers had been different.
Margaret Wilkes had been Margaret Dawson when he had known her.
Maggie.
She had been his once. Or perhaps he had been hers. It didn’t matter now. The years had taken what they had and folded it into something distant, something unreachable. But seeing her name here—printed so plainly, so finally—made it feel as though she had just left him all over again.
His eyes skimmed the words, each one heavier than the last:
Margaret Anne Wilkes (née Dawson) passed away peacefully in her sleep on the morning of March 2, 2025, at the age of 84. Margaret was the beloved wife of 62 years to Richard Wilkes and a devoted mother to four daughters: Elizabeth (Daniel) Carter, Julia (Mark) Reynolds, Katherine (Henry) Sullivan, and Abigail (James) Foster. She was a cherished grandmother to eight grandchildren: Eva, Benjamin, Anna, Nathan, Lucy, Evan, Amelia, and Aden. A gifted cellist, she performed with the Houston Symphony for over three decades, filling concert halls with warmth and grace. Beyond the stage, she dedicated herself to the performing arts, serving on the board of numerous charities and advocating for arts education. Even after retiring from the symphony, Margaret remained devoted to sharing the joy of music, offering free lessons to children in her community. She was a woman of kindness, conviction, and unwavering generosity. She will be deeply missed by her family, friends, and the many lives she touched. A memorial service will be held on March 6 at St. Andrews Church, followed by a private burial. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Reading for All Foundation or the Houston Youth Orchestra in her honour.
Walter read it again. And again. As if, by sheer will, he could force new words onto the page. Words that didn’t describe the death of a woman he had so loved, and who he so regretted losing.
But no obituary could capture what she had been.
Not really.
Not to him.