Make Me Yours
Her jaw drops and her pretty, pretty eyes go round. “Shut up.”
“It’s true.” I walk over and sit on the sofa in the center of the patio.
She follows me and sits on the table in front of me, excited. “You can sing?”
“I was in a band in college… for about a minute. Until Howard found out.” I take a sip of the dry wine. “Naturally, he was horrified.”
“I take it Howard’s your dad?” I nod, and her lips press into a knowing smile. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“Lillie has a great ear for music. She never gets off key, and she keeps the tempo steady, even a capella. That’s really huge for a four-year-old.”
Not what I expected, although I like hearing it. “I thought all children could sing those songs. They all seem to.”
“Um, no. Most little kids are all over the place. Lillie’s special.” Her voice turns soft. “Like you.”
An unexpected compliment. It sends my mind flying down that old familiar rabbit hole, but she changes direction quickly. “What kind of band were you in? Rock and roll?”
“Classic country.”
She almost chokes on her sip, covering her mouth and laughing. “No way!”
“Way.”
“You are a very unexpected man, Remington.”
“Call me Remi.” I give her a wink and polish off my glass. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know a song on our set list.”
“Ha! That’s where you’d be wrong.” She points her finger as she polishes off her wine. I reach for the bottle and pour us each another glass. “My mom is a huge classic country fan. It’s how I got my name.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “You’re named after the Kenny Rogers song?”
“I am indeed. Ma loves it. She’s fascinated by the Asian war angle.”
“It’s kind of depressing.” I sip my wine, thinking about the lyrics. “Ruby leaves her crippled husband at home to cat around in town.”
“First, it’s not clear he was her husband.” She’s counting off on one hand, holding her wine in the other. Absolutely adorable. “Second, a woman her age has wants and needs.”
“Still, she leaves him to… take her love to town.” I cock an eyebrow, and she raises hers as she sips her wine. “We should have dinner with your mom. I’d like to discuss our shared love of Kenny.”
“Do you love Kenny Rogers?” She gives me a skeptical look, and I take her hand, singing the first line of his song…
“Everyone considered him the coward of the county…”
She laughs, and it’s sort of magical. We’re out on the flagstone patio under the stars, singing, drinking wine under the moon with the lake gleaming behind us. I want her to sit beside me so I can put my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, kiss her head, her lips…
?
?My favorite is The Gambler.”
“He made a life out of reading people’s faces.” I study hers, wondering if I’m reading it right. If so…
“I thought it was weird how they made a whole TV series out of that song. It’s really sad. He dies.” She whispers that part as if it’s a secret.
“He broke even.”
A breeze filters through, sweeping a long dark wave over her shoulder. Her chin drops, and I’m fascinated by her. She’s so pretty. When she looks up at me again, her eyes are deep, like she’s contemplating telling me something.