Dad laughed. Mom covered her mouth to hide her smile. Sophia glared at me like she was trying to melt the skin off my face, but she turned and headed back up the stairs, so I'd take that as a win for the morning.
It was probably the only one I'd get.
"DADDY, I DON'T think my hair is right."
We stood inside the studio door, hand in hand, watching all the other little girls with their hair in perfect little buns on the top of their heads. Yeah, it was safe to say Sophia's didn't look right, seeing as I had no fucking clue how to do a bun.
"It'll be fine, sweetheart. It's just … " I trailed off and looked at the knotted mass of tangles that sat slightly cock-eyed on her head, " … slightly different is all."
I could see sympathetic looks from the moms that were still milling about and wondered if 'How to Make a Proper Bun' was something I could find on Google.
"Hey guys." Lilly's cheerful voice cut through my musings, and I turned just in time to see her closing the distance between us. She was wearing another one of those outfits that damn near bordered on indecent, and I had to fight my body's reaction to seeing it.
"Hi, Ms. Lilly!" Sophia shouted. "Look it! Daddy and me went to the store and bought a whole bunch of ballet clothes." She pointed down at the bright pink leotard she was wearing that declared her a DIVA in fuchsia rhinestones. She didn't have the first clue what a diva was, but the thing was pink on pink so she just had to have it … along with about a million others that looked just like it. I swear to God, I could feel by balls retreating back up into my stomach when the cashier was ringing up all the pepto-colored spandex.
"Do you like it?"
She bent down to Sophia's level, the smile on her face like a punch to the chest. "I love it! You look like a professional ballerina!"
I hadn't thought it was possible for Soph to beam any prouder than she had when we first purchased the ugly leotard, but I was wrong. Her face glowed like she'd just gotten the world's best compliment. And to Lilly's credit, she didn't say a damn word about that disaster of a bun on top of my daughter's head.
"We're about to get started, so why don't you go join the rest of the class?"
"Okay!" Sophia took off without a backward glance, leaving me alone with the woman I'd been struggling to get out of my head.
"Thanks for not saying anything about the … " I trailed off and pointed to my head, causing Lilly to laugh.
"Hey, I've seen worse, I promise."
I rubbed at the back of my neck, my skin tingled with awareness at her close proximity. Jesus, I really was a fucking mess. "Yeah, well, I never was much of a stylist."
She placed her hand on my arm and sparks lit beneath her palm. "Hey, the fact that you even tried speaks volumes. Most dads wouldn't have even bothered."
Christ, her compliment was exactly what I needed to hear. I'd been questioning whether or not I was doing right by my daughter for so long, that hearing another person validate my efforts was a shot right to the gut. There was no question about it. I needed to get the hell out of there. The guilt inside of me was quickly snuffing out the excitement I felt at Lilly's declaration.
I pulled my keys from my front pocket and began to move back. "Well, I guess I'll let you get to it."
Her brows pinched in confusion at my retreating demeanor. "Yeah. We'll see you after class."
"Yep." I turned on my heels and headed for the door without looking back.
Lilly
"HELLO?" I CALLED out as I walked through my parents' front door. No one greeted me, but I could hear soft music and the sound of hushed voices coming from the living room at back of the house.
I walked on quiet feet down the hallway and stopped just in the doorway of the living room. The sight before me made me smile happily in spite of the painfully bittersweet feeling tying my insides in knots. It was absolutely beautiful and heartbreakingly sad all at the same time, and I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes as I watched my father hold my mom in his arms as he led her around, dancing to the crooning voice of Eric Clapton.
"Wonderful Tonight" had been one of my mother's favorite songs for as long as I could remember, and watching the two of them dance in a tight embrace transported me right back to my childhood. I could remember how seeing them, so in love, so enamored with each other, used to embarrass me when I was much younger. Now, well, I'd have given anything to make sure my parents had years more of this.
My own tears finally spilled over onto my cheeks when I saw my mother's eyes well up as Dad sang softly into her ear, and I thought to myself, God, to be so lucky as to have a love like theirs. And for some reason, the image of Quinn popped into my head at that very moment. I wasn't naive enough to think I might possibly love the guy. I barely knew him. And his mercurial personality made it to where I wanted to sometimes punch him in the face, but I couldn't deny feeling a pull between us. There was something there … like a shared pain that made me feel closer to him than anyone else I knew. It was strange, really, but I just couldn't get the guy out of my head.