Moonlight Dancer by Mona Ingram Page B

his cheek and his eyes glittered in the light from the dashboard. “I’ll walk you inside if you like.”
    Charlie lifted her chin. “Don’t get me started or I might have to hurt you.”
    Jason chuckled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He reached across in front of her and opened the door. As he pulled back, his eyes met hers and then dropped to her mouth. For what seemed like forever they sat looking at each other and then with a ragged breath, he pulled back. “I guess we should say goodnight.”
    Charlie blinked, finally breaking eye contact. “Guess so.” She slid reluctantly from the seat. “Thanks for the ice cream and the walk. I enjoyed it.” She closed the door.
    He leaned across the seat. “Would you like to try again next weekend? Say on Saturday?”
    “Try what?” She grinned at him through the window.
    “You like to make a guy work, don’t you?” He shook his head, but returned her smile. “Would you like to go to The Trip next Saturday? With me?”
    Janelle’s dance instructor had better be good. “Yes” she said, “I’d like that.” She went up the back steps and turned with her hand on the screen door. He was sitting with one arm draped over the steering wheel and the other along the back of the seat. She couldn’t see his eyes but she could feel them on her.
    “Goodnight” he called, his voice full of promise. Next weekend seemed like a long time away.
    The house was eerily silent when she entered. Thomas was curled up in his favourite chair and she picked him up and cuddled him, burying her face in his fur. He tolerated her attention for a moment and then squirmed to be let down. Tail high in the air, he stalked toward the cat door and slipped out into the still night.
    Charlie opened the fridge and stared at the food with unseeing eyes. She wasn’t hungry after the ice cream; looking into the fridge was more of a habit than anything. With a sigh, she headed for the stairs, grateful for the night lights that guided her along. At the top of the stairs, she turned toward her bedroom and then paused, drawn toward the compelling portrait of the young woman. She had only looked at it once before, but it was already familiar. She turned on the overhead light and stood rooted to the spot, feeling an odd tug of kinship. The eyes looked back at her, almost alive. Beyond the heartache that Charlie saw in them, they seemed to be trying to tell her something. Willing the unknown woman to communicate with her, she reached out and touched the glass with her fingertips. It was cool to the touch and for a brief moment Charlie wondered if her imagination was running away with her. Was she trying to create a connection where none existed? With a last look into the woman’s eyes, she walked back to her room, flicking off the light switch as she passed.
    Her room was a comfortable sanctuary with the bedside light casting a soft pink glow over the old quilt. She prepared for bed and slipped between the sheets, reaching out to turn off the bedside light. The moon was now higher in the sky, its pale, thin light bleaching the colour from familiar items, painting them in tones of grey and silver. She rarely noticed the moon at home. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually looked at it, let alone thought about it. But then a lot of things were looking different since she’d met Jason. She stared at the ceiling but didn’t see the shifting shadows cast by the moon. She saw long, muscled legs encased in faded blue jeans. She saw strong, confident hands on a steering wheel and generous lips turned up at the corner in a heart-stopping smile. She saw hair the colour of ripe wheat falling over eyes as blue as the prairie skies on a clear summer day.
    Headlights illuminated the room and moments later a vehicle pulled up behind the house. Charlie turned her light back on, hoping her aunt would stop in for a quick visit. About a minute later, Janelle poked her head around