He stepped in to help with the dishes upon observing that the social bee had risen from among the men in the living room and taken a seat amidst a gathering of women in the garden.  This decided it; he’d lost his chance with her.  He was now a part of the background.  He’d need a good reason to step out of the background to become present to her.  He kept at the dishes, and declined help, just to watch, because she was soon painting a story with her hands that had the women reacting in mock shock and awe.  A couple of times, she had even to bend low at the waist, she was laughing so hard.  It was as if the party had just begun.  When he then accidentally shattered a glass in the sink and looked up after minutes of gathering the pieces, another woman had taken to painting her story in a similar way — with the same bend at the waist — to similar mock reactions.  Two others followed with variations on the theme.  When she then jumped back in again, leaning in, softer, the women turned rapt and erect, and took to nodding.  Another woman joined the earlier three this time in taking her turn at leaning in — in the way of the social bee — to get her own story out.  It’s why he finally accepted help with the dishes and quietly slipped out the front door.  He had desired her attention, but he wasn’t about to disturb a bee out pollinating the flowers.