"I dance like a dork. I'll embarrass you." He ain't kiddin'," Sheila said."Only the slow dances then," Charlotte said. "We'll be the hottest couple there!"Charlotte was being uncharacteristically teen. It was a side of her I hadn't seen yet — the giddy little schoolgirl that thought going to school dances was cool. It wasn't a bad thing. I was just more used to seeing her sexual persona, like a full grown woman. This side of her was perhaps more normal for a girl her age, but it was relatively new to me. Going to dances wasn't really my thing, nor Sheila's, but I decided I'd go if it made her happy."Sure, I'll take you," I said. "I'd be honored." What about you, She?" No thanks," she said. "Third wheel's not my style." We don't even have a song, our song!" Charlotte proclaimed. "We need a song!" I guess," I said. "I never thought about it. We've only been a couple for a week now." We gotta have a song!" What's your favorite song, Char? Love song I mean." I have a few, but none that. His wife, Kendra, had passed away from breast cancer just a little before Christmas the year before, leaving him a widower with three children all under the age of ten. Michael, the oldest, was eight, his carbon copy, and had stood stoic and silent, his hand holding his sister’s tightly as he watched his mother’s casket being slowly lowered into the ground. Katie was six, the image of her mother, with red hair and green eyes and a scattering of freckles across her tip tilted nose. She had cried for days, not understanding why her mother had been taken, why she couldn’t be there Christmas morning as she had been for every year of her young life. And little Meghan, his tiny angel, was four. With her big blue eyes and curly tow head, she reminded him of the glass Christmas angel his grandmother had brought with her from Germany, carefully wrapped in layers of shawls against the rough sea crossing. That same Angel that would grace the tree that he and the kids would trim in the next.
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