Where One Goes(20)

“You know, you look like a young Audrey Hepburn,” Ike adds suddenly. “I always thought she was hot.” I snort and shake my head at his ridiculous lie of a compliment. I look nothing like Audrey Hepburn. She was classic, timeless, and regal. I’m . . . well . . . me. “What?” he asks, as if he’s offended. “I mean it. Why would I lie? It’s not like I’m trying to get in your pants. I mean . . . I’d like to, but you know . . . the whole dead thing and all would make it kind of difficult. ” I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. Good thing I’m the only one on the floor . . . well only one alive anyway. “There it is,” he sighs as a satisfied smile spreads across his lips. “You have an amazing smile, Charlotte.” I can’t help it. I blush. Ike McDermott is a natural charmer through and through. He can’t help himself. I wish for a moment I could’ve seen him when he was alive, living day-to-day. I imagine the chipper demeanor I see now is only a glimmer of what he was like when he was alive. My heart pangs at the thought.

Just as I finish sweeping and head to the kitchen to put the broom and dustpan away, Anna comes in, a little, blonde girl trailing behind her. I know immediately she’s Anna’s daughter; they look so much alike, it’s as if Anna spit her right out of her mouth.

“Hey, Char,” Anna practically sings as she pulls me in for a hug. I’m a little stunned. I’m not much of a hugger as it is, and I didn’t think Anna and I were anywhere near that kind of friendly affection in our short friendship. But I pat her back awkwardly with one hand in reciprocation.

“Hey, Anna. Who is this little beauty?” I beam at the little girl as I pull away from Anna’s bear hug.

“This is River,” Anna replies, and nudges the little girl forward. “River, this is Mommy’s good friend, Char.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Char,” River says, shyly, as she smiles.

“Nice to meet you, too.” I reach a hand out to shake hers, which she takes.

“Char, could you keep an eye on her for a minute? I need to talk to George about my schedule.”

“Sure. Would you mind taking the broom and dustpan back for me on your way?”

“Sure wouldn’t.” Anna takes them from me and scurries to the back.

“Mommy gave me two dollars in quarters before we came in so I can play the jukebox.” River reaches in her pockets and pulls out the quarters. One falls to the floor, rolling away and she chases after it, hunched over as she goes.

“She’s adorable,” I whisper so only Ike can hear.

“I always wanted daughters,” Ike notes, and I can’t help the sadness that squeezes my heart for him. Not many men want daughters. They usually want sons. He would’ve been a great dad. I’d like to say something to him, to comfort him, but I can’t. Not in front of River.

“So, what do you want to play?” I ask as she collects the quarter and tromps over to the jukebox.

“Justin Bieber,” she chirps happily.

“Oh God. Please no!” Ike groans, making me giggle quietly to myself.

“I don’t think there’s any Justin Bieber on here, honey,” I tell River.

“You pick the first one,” she orders as she hands me two quarters.

“You sure? This is your money.”

“Yeah. Pick one, and then I’ll pick one.” Running to the jukebox, her blond hair bounces as she goes.

“Please culture this child and play her some Johnny or Elvis,” Ike pleads. I decide on Elvis as Johnny Cash tends to sound a little deeper and Elvis’s songs are peppier.

Inserting the quarters, I select the song as Ike stares over my shoulder the entire time. When I glance at him, he smirks. “Good choice.”

As the jukebox clicks, preparing to play the song, I bend down and ask River, “Do you know any Elvis Presley songs?”

“Elvis?” River scrunches her nose, obviously having never heard of him.

“Anna should be reported for child neglect,” Ike snorts. “This child has obviously been starved of any type of culture.”

“Are we going to dance?” I ask River, ignoring Ike and holding out my hand to her.

River shoves her quarters back in her pocket and giggles. “You first,” she orders.

The first chords of Jailhouse Rock stream through the speakers, and I hurry to the bar and grab George’s sunglasses, slipping them on.

As the words bellow out, I lip-synch and move my legs in my best imitation of Elvis’ dance moves. Ike plops down in a chair at the bar. “And she can dance?” He clutches his chest. “Be still, my heart,” he moans dramatically.

When it gets to the second verse, I grab River’s hands and sing.

Let’s rock; everybody, let’s rock.

Everybody in the whole cell block

was dancin’ to the Jailhouse Rock.”

River laughs hysterically as I twirl her and shake my hips like crazy. I, too, am lost in a fit of giggles when someone seizes my arm and jerks me until I slam into a hard body.

“Let’s show her how it’s done,” Sniper purrs as he twirls me around. He spins me in a series of maneuvers while River squeals with delight. I can’t deny I’m impressed with his dance moves. When the song almost ends, he picks up River, twirling her while she holds her arms out and laughs. When the song finishes, we’re all giggling until the sound of loud handclapping sounds throughout the room.