No performance.
No desire for attention.
He was terrified.
Almost as terrified as Lily.
He simply had better practice walking while afraid.
At the end of the aisle, Mara hurried toward the stage stairs.
Duke stopped before climbing.
She looked him up and down.
For the briefest second, even she seemed stunned by the tutu.
“Bear…”
Nobody outside his family called him Duke anymore.
The name Bear had started when he was sixteen, long before the beard, when he was already larger than most grown men.
Mara lowered her voice.
“Are you certain?”
Duke looked toward Lily.
“No.”
Mara’s eyebrows lifted.
He swallowed.
“But she packed it for me in case the stage felt too big.”
Mara looked at the enormous pink tutu again.
Then at Lily.
Understanding reached her face.
“Oh.”
Duke nodded.
“She said if she got scared, I had to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“That she wasn’t the only one allowed to look silly.”
Mara pressed her lips together.
Her eyes became wet.
Then she stepped aside.
“Go.”
Duke climbed the stairs.
The entire recital hall quieted.
Not instantly.
But enough that the music suddenly seemed louder.
He walked onto the stage.
One of the little dancers saw him and nearly forgot her own steps.
Another girl grinned so widely she lost count for a second.
Mara motioned from the wings for them to continue.
Duke approached Lily.
His daughter stared at him.
Her mouth opened.
For the first time since the music began, something other than terror entered her face.
Disbelief.
“Daddy?”
Duke stopped in front of her.
He lowered himself carefully onto one knee.
The tulle puffed around him.
That almost made Lily laugh.
Almost.
He held out one massive hand.
“You don’t have to do this alone, baby.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“I forgot.”
Duke nodded as though she had told him the weather.
“That’s all right.”
Her face crumpled.
“I forgot all of it.”
“Well…”
Duke glanced at the other children.
Then back at her.
“I never knew it in the first place.”
A tiny sound escaped Lily.
Half laugh.
Half sob.
Duke smiled.
“There she is.”
He lifted his hand higher.
“Want to teach me?”
Lily stared.
The music continued.
She took his index finger.
Her hand could not wrap around it completely.
Duke rose.
He had attended every practice he was allowed to watch.
That did not mean he could dance.
He knew where Lily usually stood.
He knew when the girls lifted the baskets.
He knew there was a turn near the end.
He knew at some point everybody pointed one foot.
That was approximately the extent of his expertise.
Lily took one step.
Duke copied her.
Wrong foot.
She looked at his boots.
Then at him.
He whispered:
“Already messed up.”
A second laugh escaped her.
Not from the audience.
From Lily.
That sound changed the room.
Parents who had initially laughed at the biker were now watching the little girl.
Duke lifted one arm.
It was too high.
Lily reached up and pushed it slightly lower.
“Here.”