Page 55 of Ace of Spades

“Well,” I say, looking down at Josie. “I’m honored that you trust me to style your hair.”

The little girl doesn’t look me in the eye. She, instead, looks down at her feet, kicking them against the overturned bucket, and smiles.

I make quick work of braiding two strands on either side of Josie’s face, just like mine. And the whole time, her little feet just kick against the bucket, a happy little rhythm.

When I finish I kneel down in front of her.

“All done,” I sign with my hands. She follows my movement with her eyes and then does the same thing with her own hands.

I look at Levi who’s still watching us, just outside his office.

“Does she sign?”

He shakes his head.

I sign,“Thank you.”

And again, the little girl does the same.

Well… she might not speak vocally, but from the looks of it shecancommunicate.

I smile at her and help her down from the bucket and together we walk back to Levi.

He has his hands in his pockets, and licks his lips before he speaks.

“Um…” He clears his throat. “We have a lot of work to do. Come on, Josie girl.”

She lets go of my hand and takes Levi’s as he leads us back to his office. The sight reminds me of what it would be like to see a delicate flower next to a rocky mountain.

Inside the cluttered office, he clears up a corner and sets up a little workstation for her in the with her own little makeshift desk, chair, and lamp.

And Josie happily scribbles in the notebook that Levi gave her.

“Sorry, she’s usually with her mom,” he says to me when he catches me watching her.

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s sweet that you bring her to work with you,” I give him a half smile.

Levi might not want me here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge a sweet dad move when I see one.

“Yeah,” he says thoughtfully, before drawing our attention back to the spreadsheet on the computer. “We should talk about payroll. I handled it this week, but it’s done every Friday.”

“And then you take the crew out for poker?” I ask, not even trying to hide my grin.

“Poker night was Brody’s idea,” he says. “If you can imagine it.”

Somehow I can.

Brody does seem like the kind of guy that works hard and plays harder.

I perk up at the mention of my dad.

“Does he go to them?”

He gives a dry chuckle.

“Used to. That man’s been… busy.”

He clicks around and shows me the system he has for doing payroll, almost like he’s ready to move on from the subject.

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