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He has me there. I’m about to tell him this is actually my last one when I hear the familiar intro toI’ll be seeing youflow from the piano. I latch onto Jim’s arm so I don’t pass out from excitement.
“Oh my God.” I moan, closing my eyes and dropping my head to feel the melody. “I’ll be seeing you. It was originally recorded by Dick Todd in the early 1940s but made more popular by Bing Crosby later that decade. In my opinion, of all the versions out there, Billie Holiday sings it the best.” I take a swig of my drink, leaving my hand firmly latched onto his arm.
“This will forever be my favorite song. It’s about love.Realfucking love. Not that type of love you think you know when you have your first crush, but the type where you can still feel someone, even if they aren’t physically there anymore. You see them in everything around you, and they consume your every thought.”
This song will forever be my happy place. At six and eight years old, my sister and I were continually bounced from foster home to foster home. Most people didn’t want to take on two kids at once, and even though I was only eight, I had the attitude of a teenager. Thank God for the administrator who refused to split the two of us up, because all those failed homes led us to our forever home.
I’ll never forget the day I walked into my now-parents’ house. They were both in their later fifties at the time, hearts so big they couldn’t say no to a temporary foster situation, but never in a million years did they think they’d end up adopting the both of us as soon as they were eligible.
We walked into their home, and I knew, justknewthat this was it. That this was my home where my sister and I could be safe, and I knew my parents were good people. After a dinner of sloppy joes and tater tots, they showed us the den where we could watch cartoons. My sister was drawn to a rerun of Mickey Mouse when I wandered over to check out their wall-to-wall collection of vinyls.
I was a bratty pre-teen, a poor record behind me, and my dad never hesitated to show me how to use their antique turntable. My sister and I laid on the carpet most of the evening, listening to my dad play record after record as we listened. I fell asleep beside her, curled up next to her side, listening to Billie Holiday croon these words to me, and it will forever be the best day of my life.
“It’s about real love,” I tell him again. “About how love can transcend time.”
I finally break my gaze from the band to look up at Jim, and the look in his eyes as he stares back nearly chokes me. “What?”
He shakes his head softly, looking me right in the eye. “It’s almost like you have no idea how fucking beautiful you are. And not in the classic, I’m a hot redhead with an attitude, beautiful—”
I laugh, interrupting his sweet confession. “Is that even a thing? Hot because someone is a redhead with an attitude?”
“It is to me,” he deadpans. “You’re like a mix of Jessica Rabbit meets Poison Ivy. A super-hot redhead with an attitude. But you take it the extra mile by having a little bit of Shari Lewis in you, too.”
“Who in the hell is Shari Lewis?”
Jim pauses, stares at me as if I just swore on his grandma’s grave. “Shari Lewis is the actress who voiced Lamb Chop…remember Lamb Chop? That puppet?” He folds his fingers over his thumb, clapping them together to mimic a puppet’s mouth.
A laugh escapes me, and I reach over to grab his shoulder and give a light shove. “You’re comparing me to a lamb puppet?”
He smiles big enough that his dimple pops out. “I am. You’re hot like the angry redheads and at the same time sweet like Lamb Chop. But your soul is what does it for me—you’re deep, finding beauty in music and the meaning in something like that. It’s…it’s rare.” He trails off, brushing off his emotion with a sip of scotch.
I stare at his strong profile, the handsome jawline. I've had a small crush on Jim since the moment I met him at one of the rare times I was able to escape to a cookout at Lainey’s house. He’s always had this charisma to him, able to carry a conversation and make small talk with any stranger, able to make anyone laugh no matter the circumstances. Confident in himself and his abilities, but not cocky. Unlike myself, he doesn’t clam up over awkward conversation, doesn’t seem to second-guess what he says or every move he makes. He has the same, smooth talking playboy persona Ryan did once upon a time. And in another life, I would have wanted him badly.
Or, I would have at least had my fun with him, even though he has blonde hair.
“You know, Jim. You’re not as bad as you pretend to be.”
He laughs into his drink. “That’s rich coming from someone who refuses to go on a date with me.”
“Trust me when I say, you don’t want to date me,” I mutter, turning to look forward. I gaze into the mirror behind the bar, noting my flushed face, redness starting to show on my chest and the exaggerated freckles from the summer sun. I also notice something I rarely see—a genuine smile. Realizing now I’ve had one on my face all evening since being with Jim.
He turns to me, those broad shoulders facing my side. “That’s right, I tend to ask out women I don’t really like, hoping to get repeatedly rejected.”
I squint my eyes at him. “Now that I think of it, have you everreallyasked me out? All I can recall are blatant sexual comments while we are in large groups of people. Not exactly my kryptonite.”
He squints back at me, “Is someone wishing I would?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, Jim. First of all, you couldn’t handle this redheaded lamb puppet, secondly—my life is complicated. Dating and relationships are something I can’t do right now.”
“Why’s that?”
I hesitate, feeling the words gather at the tip of my tongue. I almost want to tell him the way my world has been turned upside down and how I’m still scrambling to keep it all together. Instead, I defer, ushering the bartender over for another round. “That’s a story for another day.”
~
“Oh my God! You’re going to drop me!” I squeal, clinging to Jim’s shoulders for dear life.
“If you would stop wiggling,” he grunts, pausing to hike my legs higher up on his back, “this would be a heck of a lot easier.”
