He’s a sexy single father. The voice in the back of my head says and I grab hold of Emely’s hand. “I need some punch,” I tell her.
“You know it doesn’t really have any alcohol in it,” she says with disappointment in her voice as I drag her to the snacks table. “I have some alcohol in my purse, if you want I can add a few drops to your drink,” she adds.
I stop in my tracks, turn around, and pin her with a stare. “You brought alcohol?!” I whisper-yell.
“You brought me to a kid’s party… I figured I’d bring it in case I needed something to get me through it.”
“Don’t make me regret inviting you,” I tell her, trying to be the adult. Truth is, I would definitely feel more relaxed with some alcohol in my hand and better yet if it were already in my body. Pre-gaming this would’ve been awesome. That would never happen though, that’s not the way to leave a good impression. It’s the first time I’ll meet the parents, even if only the fathers, so I need to be on my best behavior and my best friend does too.
“You’re no fun.”
“Promise you won’t drink,” I tell her.
She gives me a pouty face and I don’t react. “Fine. But you should be more worried about them,” she says, pointing at the three teachers who are in charge of making sure this dance runs smoothly.
“I hope I don’t have to worry about them… I wouldn’t even know how to go about correcting them.”
“You’re the boss, but if you need any help, I got you.”
I laugh. “Yeah, no thank you.” We keep walking and reach the table. I pour some punch into my cup and Emely and I appreciate the peace of a mostly empty gymnasium. We watch as the DJ sets up and teachers run around getting the last things in order. I stand by ready to do whatever is asked of me, but as time passes it seems that no one needs my help.
Emely and I move toward the bleachers and take a seat. We chat away as we wait for the parents and students to pour in. I half listen to whatever Emely is saying as I look at the main door behind her. I know I’m supposed to be angry with him. I’m supposed to be over him. But I’m not. Right now, I’m just anxiously waiting for him and his daughter to walk through those doors.
CHRISTIAN
“Smile,” my mother instructs as she points the camera in our faces. I smile while kneeling down next to Ari. We’re getting ready to head to the father-daughter dance, which means it’s been two days since I left Amari standing at her doorstep thinking about my answer. I want you.
“This reminds me of your prom pictures,” mom says, reminiscing. I smile when the memory resurfaces. My mom was the only parent who knew back then about Amari and me dating. I didn’t want her parents to know because I knew the moment they saw me, the moment they knew about my reputation, they’d force her to stop seeing me. It was the right move for any parent, I’d do the same if my daughter would ever think about dating a guy like the one I was, but I loved Amari. I didn’t want us to be pulled apart… not after we gravitated toward each other like magnets.
“Is that the same camera you used back then?” I ask, trying to inject some humor into this conversation.
She looks at the camera then laughs. “It absolutely is!” It’s one of those old cameras that you have to take to the pharmacy to print out your photos. I wonder if the pharmacies still do that.
“Could you take a couple with my phone just so that we have a backup plan?” I would hate for all the pictures to get lost.
“A back up plan for what?” she asks, baffled.
“In case that dinosaur of a camera fails. I want to make sure Ari and I have these photos,” I tell her, pulling my phone out of my tuxedo pocket and handing it over to her. This is only the second time ever I’ve worn a tux, but the occasion required it, at least that’s what my mom and Ari said.
“Dad, can we hurry up, I don’t want to be late!” Ari says with her hands on my cheek as she turns me to face her.
“Absolutely. Grandma! You get one shot,” I tell Mom.
“No pressure!” She replies.
Ari laughs, the camera clicks, and the moment is captured forever. “Daddy,” Ari says as I rise from my kneeling position.
“Yes sweetheart?” I respond, my eyes fixed on her.
“Thanks for coming to this dance with me,” she tells me and I lift her up in my arms. “Be careful with my dress!” she warns.
“I’ll be careful,” I tell her then give her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s the father-daughter dance, as your dad, it’s kind of a requirement that I go.” Not that I’d miss this for the world.
“Some of the students don’t have daddies, just like I don’t have a mother,” my ever-smart daughter tells me and her words sober me up.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say to justify her mother’s absence. The reality is that she should be here sharing all these moments with her daughter. It should be her taking the photos instead of my mother. She’s probably taking many photos of her latest adventures, forgetting her daughter even exists. I haven’t heard from her since the last time she called and Ari overheard.
“Don’t be sorry, Dad. If she wanted to be here, she would be.” My daughter’s words once again surprise me. She’s mature beyond her years. “Can I ask you a favor?” she adds and I wonder what she’ll say next.
“Anything for you,” I tell her, meaning every word.
“If there’s anyone at the dance whose father isn’t there or who’s sad, could you dance with them?”
I smile at the little girl in my arms. “You just point them out to me and I’ll see what I can do. I don’t have the best moves, but I’m sure they’ll suffice,” I tell her, breaking out into the craziest and most uncoordinated dance routine with her in tow.
She laughs and laughs, which only makes me dance even crazier. My daughter’s carefree laughter reminds me that I didn’t screw it all up. “Gotta make sure we ask permission before you start dancing with anyone,” she tells me.
“That’s true. You just point them out to me and I’ll ask permission,” I assure her, setting her down.
“Okay, will do. But Dad…”
“Yes?”
“First and last dances are mine,” she says, her hand in mine.
“Always, baby girl.”
My mother clears her throat and I notice the tears in her eyes. “As moving as this is, you both need to get going before you’re late.”
“Grandma, are you crying?” Ari asks, perceptive as ever.
My mother nods as she wipes at the tears of pure joy. “I just… I’m really proud of the both of you.”
I look at Ari and she looks back at me. Winking at her, I give her the signal and we both run over to my mother and trap her in a group hug.
“We love you, Grandma,” Ari says.
“More than you know,” I add.
“I love you both so much, my heart is full when I get to witness moments like this.” We release my mother and her hand comes up to my cheek. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.” I take in her words and gotta admit I agree with her. There’s a lot more for me to do, but I’m proud of the path I’ve taken. Statistically, things could’ve gone a lot differently for me.