Golden Lockets

Happy Just to Dance With You

Serenity wanted to go out with Adam, Sylvia, and a gaggle of other kids in her class, although she felt terrible about doing it. For reasons she couldn't explain she didn't feel right leaving George at home by himself. She spent a lot of Saturday afternoon alone in her room, wondering what she could possibly do. Serenity knew Adam didn't want George to come along - it wouldn't help his reputation any - and she wanted to please him. But George was her dad and she loved him more than anyone else in the world.

Serenity flopped on her bed, buried her face in a pillow, and let out a muffled scream. She didn't know what to do. She was torn in two. After a few minutes of tearing at her hair and pummeling the pillow, Serenity sighed heavily and sat up. She glanced at the cassette player that was sitting on her set of drawers. There was a messy pile of tapes beside it. She bounced off of the bed, slipped a tape into the deck, and hit play. Dancing Queen echoed through the bedroom, invading Serenity's ears and soothing her anxious thoughts. She started to dance, waving her arms and twitching her hips.

"Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen..." Serenity sang softly, careful not to raise her voice. She had to keep the noise down for two reasons. Ringo was asleep in the next room and would become unbelievably cranky if he was woken too soon. The other reason was George's dislike for ABBA - Serenity knew he would come banging at the door if he heard her playing "such distasteful music".

"Maybe he's just jealous of ABBA." Serenity muttered as she twirled around the room. "Poor Dad, he hasn't had a hit for a while. Music seems to have moved on from all of his Indian stuff."

"Poor Dad, all right!" said a voice.

Serenity jumped and spun around guiltily. She saw George standing in the doorway, only his head and part of his shoulder visible. His eyebrows were raised questioningly. "Serenity?"

"Hi, Daddy!" Serenity said, her voice unusually high-pitched. She rushed over to the cassette player and quickly ejected the tape. She pretended to rummage through the other tapes. "I was just looking for, uh... my Queen album!"

Serenity rammed the tape into player, spilling the other albums in her wake. They fell onto the carpet with several small thuds. She dropped to her knees to gather them up, her cheeks rapidly turning pink. George opened the door to its full extent and strolled into the room. He got down beside Serenity and began to collect up several tapes, stacking them in neat piles.

"Did I hear ABBA playing before?" George asked, not looking up.

"Maybe." Serenity said, her tone clearly guilty.

"What's up, lovey? You only listen to Dancing Queen when you're upset."

"No I don't... So what if I do? I'm not upset."

"Don't give me that nonsense." George said sharply. "Tell me what's bugging you."

"None of your business." Serenity sighed. She placed the pile of tapes back on the set of drawers, ambled over to her bed, and fell onto it. She placed her head back in the pillow and lay there, completely still. George stared at her, shaking his head fondly.

"You know I can tell when you're mad at me." he called from the floor.

"I'm not mad at you." Serenity mumbled into the pillow. "I'm mad at me."

George heaved himself up and sat on the bed beside her. He stroked her back gently, even though she tried to wriggle away from his touch. 

"Why are you mad at yourself, baby?" he asked softly.

"Don't call me a baby, Dad." Serenity whined. "I'm too old for silly nicknames."

"All right. Why are you mad at yourself, Serenity?"