“It’s sweet that you visit him so often. I’d teach my grandmother how to sign if I thought she’d remember the gestures. She seems to have taken a liking to him.” She quirks a brow. “You too.”

I grin proudly. “Old ladies love me.”

“Probably because they’re senile.”

“What happened to our truce? I gave your shoe back. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

She chuckles. “Oh! I love this song. The kids look so adorable doing the dance.”

Without thinking, I slide my hand inside hers. “Come on. Let’s go show these kids how it’s done.”

I bite back a smile at the look of shock on Raegan’s face as I lead her onto the makeshift dance floor. I swipe the microphone off the stand at the front of the room. “Do you guys know how to do this dance?”

“Yeah!” the students shout.

“All right, Roosevelt Elementary. Let’s see your moves!”

I slide my jacket off and hang it on the microphone stand. Hannah, dressed up as Wonder Woman, runs up to me and waves.

“Hey, Hannah! That is the perfect costume for you.”

“Thanks. Can I dance with you, Mr. Waters?”

“Of course.”

She beams and claims the spot beside me. Once the chorus starts, Hannah and I begin moving to the beat. The other students crowd around us and join in.

Raegan’s standing off to the side, watching and laughing as I perfectly execute the steps.

I gesture for her to come dance.

She shakes her head.

I jut out my lower lip.

She crosses her arms.

I lean down and whisper in Hannah’s ear. “Go get Ms. Donahue to come dance with us.”

My girl Hannah uses her doe eyes and kid pout to coax Raegan onto the dance floor.

Raegan rolls her eyes at me, but she’s smirking. “You play dirty, Mr. Waters.”

Oh, Ms. Donahue, you have no idea.

The next day, I walk through the doors of the indoor pool hoping to see Raegan with her grandmother again. After doing a full sweep of the area, I’m disappointed to find she’s not here.

I spend an hour in the water with my grandfather. Halfway through, he asks me why I keep looking at the door. You’re looking for that blond beauty, aren’t you? he signs.

I neither confirm nor deny it, but I don’t need to.

Grandpa knows me too well.

He tells me about Annette’s dementia. How some days are great, while others are difficult. If you don’t see Annette in the pool for therapy, you can assume it’s a tough day, he signs.

I should’ve gone home after saying goodbye to Grandpa. I should’ve headed for the exit and gotten in my car.

But I didn’t.

Something’s telling me to look for Annette’s room. Just to check. Make sure everything’s okay.