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He kicks his feet as I carry him down the steps, just as the bus pulls up.Boy, that was close.
“Luca!” Caleb yells as he runs toward us full steam.
I quickly scan the area to make sure no one has heard him shout my name. Thankfully, besides Myla, Truitt, and Cliff’s dogs, we’re all alone.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”
“Neither did I. But something came up at work, and your mom asked if I could help out until she was able to get home.”
Myla walks past me without her usual smile. It’s so unlike her, I turn to watch as she enters the house, flings her backpack on the entryway bench, and runs up the stairs.
“What’s going on with your sister? I’ve never seen her act like this.”
Caleb shrugs his shoulders as he follows along into the house. “She gets that way if she gets a B on something.”
I had no idea this child was so hard on herself.
“Mom would probably throw a party if I got a B on something,” Caleb says as he enters the kitchen.
“What do you mean, Tarzan? You’re smart.”
Caleb drags one of the kitchen stools over beside the refrigerator. “I don’t always do a good job on some of the worksheets,” he adds as he nearly knocks the jug of milk off of the top shelf of the fridge. I rush to hand it to him. “Mama says it’s because I have ants in my pants.”
“Ah.” Putting Truitt back in his highchair, I decide to let him gnaw on a Graham Cracker while Caleb has his snack. Once they’re occupied, I make my way to Myla’s backpack. Unzipping the top, I peek inside to see if an assignment with less than an A is visible. I don’t want to invade her privacy. The backpack is neat and orderly with the exception of a crumpled paper wedged in the front. As I retrieve it, I get a strange sensation in my chest.
Father Daughter Dance
Friday, May 31st
5:30 p.m.
Hanover Recreation Center
“Tarzan. Can you be a big boy and watch Truitt for me for a sec? I need to go check on your sister.”
“Yeah,” he answers, his mouth full of food.
I take the stairs. My heart feels as if it’s lodged in my throat. Once I reach Myla’s door, I find it cracked and peer inside. She’s lying face down. I don’t hear crying, but just the sight of her has me wanting to burn down the world. I knock gently on her door.
Myla finally turns her red-rimmed eyes in my direction, and I don’t wait for her to invite me in. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, I run my hand down her hair. “Myla. I’m so sorry.”
She blinks up at me.
“Caleb thought you were upset about a bad grade. That’s silly, right? You’re so smart. If you ever got a bad grade, that would be nothing to cry over. It wouldn’t mean you weren’t still the brightest girl I know.” I pause. I’m not sure why, as it’s clear this sweet girl is protecting herself. She’ll talk when she’s ready, and I doubt after finding that invitation, today will be that day.
“Please don’t be angry with me. I should’ve asked you first. But when you didn’t come down, I looked in your backpack, to see if that was what had upset you.” Pause. “A bad grade.” Lord, give me the right words to help her. “And I found the invitation to the dance.”
Now I can hear her crying. Her body is visibly shaking.
“Please don’t cry, Farfalla.” I don’t care if it’s not my place, but I can’t watch her like this. It’s killing me. Reaching under her arms, I lift her up, and place her in my lap. “What can I do to help?”
Myla buries her face in my shirt.
“I’m sorry your father can’t be here to take you.” I can’t help but wonder, if he was still alive, would this have hurt as much knowing he was in another country, and couldn’t take her? I’d never contemplated this before. Children of military parents struggle with issues few give them credit for. “Would it be okay if I took you? To the dance?”
Myla doesn’t move, but the crying slows as I rub her back. She slowly turns her head to face me, her eyes still swollen and full of tears. But I see it. The slightest nod.
“Really?” I need to find a way to turn this around. Watching her like this is tearing my heart in two. “I’m excited. I haven’t been dancing in a long time.”
