Page 16 of Dancing in the Dark

“There was eight of them. They wiggled their butts.” She wiggles hers. “And attacked me!”

I fake a loud gasp. “They attacked you?”

“They got me on the ground and tried to eat me up!” she cackles. “They were licking my face all over, and one tried to bite my hair.”

“Oh my goodness! And your hair looks so beautiful today, too.”

She turns shy for a beat, blushing. “Do you fink my hair looks silly? I did it by myself, but it didn’t really turn out like the picture I was trying to copy.”

“Baby, I have no clue what picture you were trying to copy, but this,” I look at the messy ponies. “This is art. You look so cute, I promise.”

“Okay!” From shy to elated, she beams bright enough to power an entire city. “My arms started to hurt when I was doing it,” she giggles. “It’s hard work doing your hair.”

“It really is,” I snicker. “Some days, I just want to give up.”

“But you never would,” Minka teasingly singsongs. “Miss Fifi prides herself on having the prettiest hair in the room.”

“Don’t listen to her.” I wrinkle my nose and earn a fitful giggle from the girl in my lap. “Aunty Minka doesn’t know what she’s talking about. How could I possibly have the prettiest hair in the room if you’re in that room, too?”

“You have pretty hair all the time.” She picks up a long lock and studies the ends. “If I keep growing mine, do you fink it’ll be as long as yours someday?”

“Of course.” I wrap my arms around her hips and keep her close. “It took me a really long time, though, so you’ll have to be patient.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Aubree pokes her nose between us. “It’s not that I wanna interrupt this cute little reunion, but it’s my birthday, Moo, and you didn’t even say hello yet.”

“I’m sorry!” She throws herself wildly to my left and lands in Aubree’s lap with a splat. Aubree grunts. Tim grunts. Mia squeezes them both in a hug and scrunches her eyes tight. “Happy birthday, Aunty Aubree! Did the baby come yet?” She pulls back and looks down at Aubree’s flat stomach. “Did it work?”

“There’s no baby in there yet, silly.”

“But soon? You’ll tell me as soon as it happens, huh? Then I can talk to your belly and say hello to the baby. Because even though the baby isn’t gonna be yours and Uncle Tim’s, it’ll still grow in your tummy, and that means it’ll still be my family, right?”

“Absolutely, it’ll still be your family.” Aubree brushes wild locks of hair off Mia’s face. “And since the baby will actually be my brother’s baby, it’ll still be my niece or nephew. And since you and I are family, and the baby will be my family…”

“It’ll be my family!” she hoots happily. “You don’t even have to grow in someone’s belly to be family, though, did you know?”

“For sure. There’s only one person in this entire building whose tummy I grew in, but everyone else here is still my family. Just like they’re all your family too.”

She strokes Aubree’s belly and exhales a happy sigh. “It’s so cool how mommies grow a whole person right there where their lunch goes.”

“Sera…” Charlie ambles closer, his muscular thighs stopping only because the points of my knees bar him from coming nearer. He’s not the same loud-mouthed, chronic flirt I remember from two years ago, back when his divorce was final and his hurt had subsided enough to make spending a night with a woman fun again. He’s not the same flirty guy I remember from a year ago, either, back before his ex-wife died and, despite the signs all pointing toward pain, he still hoped beyond hope there could be a happy ending.

If not for him, then at least for Mia.

Now, he’s a quieter, more reserved version of the man I once kind of detested. Jada’s spiral toward death humbled him in all the worst ways, so these days, I wish far too often for a return of the guy who used to annoy me.

At least back then, he still seemed to believe he deserved good things.

He offers a small smile and brushes his fingertips over the peak of my knee. “It’s good to see you.”

“Can I come to the doctor's appointments when there’s a baby in your tummy?” Mia’s voice rings loud enough to draw eyes. “Pleeeeease? I didn’t get to go to any of those appointments in my whole life, and my mom and dad didn’t make any brothers or sisters for me.”

I pluck my wineglass off the bar—I need booze, which is a callous irony, considering Mia’s mom suffered from addiction—then I slide off my stool and loathe how Charlie’s refusal to move means our chests touch. Our eyes meet. His hand goes to my hip, and for just a second, his tongue comes forward to wet his bottom lip.

And dammit, my eyes follow every infinitesimal movement.

I use the decades of dance skills my mother made damn sure I’d absorb and twist out of his grip. Ducking under his arm, I cut a line straight across the room and swallow heavy mouthfuls of my wine as I go. I move around tables and through groups of cops and autopsy techs. I drink until only half remains, then I dump the glass beside Aubree’s discarded gift bag and push through the door and onto the sidewalk outside.

“Jesus.” I greedily suck fresh air into my lungs, gulping it down in heaped bubbles and pressing my back to the brick exterior of the bar.