Nat
“It’ll be OK, El,” Tim says confidently, bending over to look her in the eye. Eleanor is a bit of a wreck right now; it’s her first school play, and she’s been practicing her part so hard the last couple of weeks. She’s word perfect and could do the dance steps in her sleep, and she’s been nothing but confident and enthusiastic…
…until she saw the stage all ready, and the families all filling the seats in the school hall.
“Promise?” Her lip is trembling and her eyes are huge. Her costume - she’s dressed as a rabbit, a costume I spent freakingageson YouTube figuring out how to make - jiggles as she hops from one foot to the other. She and the other children are in clusters backstage, and there’s a heady mix of excitement and nervousness in the air.
“Promise.”
“Pinky promise?” she pleads with him. I beam. That’s her ultimate litmus test. If someone pinky promises her something, they’d damn well better follow through.
Tim offers her his little finger, and they shake on it. “I’ll be right there, in the front row. If you get nervous, wiggle your nose at me, and I’ll make funny faces until you feel better.”
El giggles, reassured and a little more settled. Tim is a lot better with her worries and fears than I am. I try to logic them out with her, which doesn’t seem to really make a dent, whereas he justhas this knack of coming up with good workarounds and making her laugh until her confidence returns.
I remember him doing the same thing for me before I went on stage for my dance performances. Having him there, so filled with confidence in me and unabashed admiration for what I did… My goodness, it made all the difference.
I tuck my phone back in my bag. I won’t remind her that we’re filming this for Granny, my mother, who can’t be here tonight. She’s been admitted to hospital because she collapsed a couple of days ago. The cancer treatment has been rough on her, and they’re keeping her in for a couple of days for observation.
Tim must notice the distracted look on my face, because he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll record it, too,” he whispers, and I smile gratefully. Mum was so upset that she couldn’t be here to see it, and she made me promise over and over to film it for her. Eleanor’s too young to understand what cancer is, but she knows her Granny is very poorly, and she hugged her in the hospital bed and promised to dance ‘extra super awesome’ for her.
“OK, everyone, it’s time,” Miss Yaroslaw calls to the children milling around, and they all gather to her. “OK, take your places, just like we rehearsed.” El turns and waves at us, before taking her friend Jenna’s hand and wandering away.
Tim and I sit next to each other in the front row with Sadie and his parents. Sadie gives me a wink, Cathy smiles warmly, and Mr Stewart deigns to give me a nod. Must be a red letter day. He does try with Eleanor, but I’ve had to speak up a few times when he’s been a little over-demanding with her. I know he doesn’t like that, but he doesn’t scare me anymore.
Besides, Cathy is wonderful with her, and El hero worships her Aunt Sadie.
The play begins, a sweet story about the Easter bunny losing all his eggs the night before Easter, and the quest to find them all with his bunny friends. El’s part doesn’t begin until about ten minutes in, and without knowing when it happened, I realise Tim and I are clasping hands, the ones not holding our phones up. He looks as achingly proud and touched as I feel, and this moment makes everything seem worthwhile. From the lack of a social life to giving Tim up for the sake of stability… I wouldn’t trade this moment, thislife,for anything.
Eleanor tap dances with sweet little hippety hops, like the bunny she’s playing, and she looks much more at ease now she’s into it.
Until…
As a dancer, I know that it happens sometimes. You get wrong footed and stumble. You work hard to make sure it doesn’t happen on the big night…but sometimes it just does.
El stumbles and falls to the stage floor, banging her knee. Fortunately I can tell she’s not injured. But her pride is smarting and she’s very embarrassed, and she looks at me and Tim with eyes swimming with tears. Her bunny face crumples as her friends carry on with the routine, and there is an audible hum of startled sympathy in the audience. Even Miss Yaroslaw looks a bit wrong-footed.
Before I can blink, Tim has dashed up onto the stage and scooped Eleanor up for a cuddle, not caring that the whole place is watching…and then…
My heart…
He encourages her to keep dancing bycopying the moves himself while holding her hand. He’s a little clumsy, but he has the basic moves down, and throws himself into pirouetting and leaping to make everyone forget El’s misstep in their amusement.
“Yeah, Tim!” Sadie shouts, clapping and hooting her support. This inspires a round of applause from everyone else. Well, almost everyone else. Mr Stewart looks sour at being the only grandparent whose grandkid screwed up, followed by his son making a spectacle of himself to support her.Miserable old fool.
I stand up and cheer them both as the routine finishes, and I’m thrilled to bits to have been able to film this. When Eleanor is older, this will be a precious, albeit cringeworthy, memory to look back on; but the bottom line is, she will know how much her daddy had her back. How much he always will, even if that costs him a little pride.
Or maybe it hasn’t. He gives her a big high five and holds her arm up like she’s won a wrestling match, completely at his ease. Our eyes meet, and I’m sure I’m looking at him with all the love I feel for him, but I can’t bring myself to stop.
Not this time.
Especially when it makes him smile so big.
“Dad, give it a rest,” Tim bites out while we all wait for the children to come out of the changing rooms.
But of course, he doesn’t let up. “I’m just saying,sheneeds to stop daydreaming when she’s supposed to be performing, and bailing her out like that isn’t preparing her for the real world.”
“Why would - ” Tim begins, scoffing, but his father cuts him off in a superior tone.
