The music builds and the tree starts to grow—the painted backdrop rising slowly, branches extending upward until they reach toward the theater ceiling.
“Oh, this is my favorite part,” I say to no one, pausing mid-stitch to watch.
The tree towers now, impossibly tall, transforming the intimate Christmas scene into a magical world. Marie steps onto the stage in her costume nightgown, eyes wide with wonder as the Nutcracker Prince appears.
* * *
EVAN
I return from the car with both tuxedo bags and find the theater in full snow scene mode. Paper snow is falling from above, the tree backdrop is towering, dancers are moving through the choreography. I set the tuxedos down on a chair near the wings and watch.
A small boy in a mouse costume approaches me.
“Are you a real dad?”
I look down. He can't be more than eight, with brown hair sticking up at odd angles and his mouse ears askew.
“No, I'm just helping. Party parent for the weekend.”
“Oh.” He considers this. “Can you do a backflip?”
“No.”
“That's okay. I can't either.” He sits down on the floor next to me, pulling at his shoes. “My laces keep coming undone.”
I kneel down to look. Jazz shoes—the kind with the split sole. The laces are tied, but they're loose, the knot already starting to slip.
“Want to know a trick?” I ask.
He nods eagerly.
I show him how to loop the laces differently—over and under, then pull tight before tying. The same way Elsbeth taught me, frustrated that my tap shoes kept coming loose mid-routine.
“There,” I say, finishing the second shoe. “Try that.”
He stands up, bounces on his toes a few times. “They're not slipping!”
“Good.”
“How do you know that?”
I hesitate. “I used to dance.”
His eyes go wide. “Really? What kind?”
“Tap. A long time ago.”
“Why'd you stop?”
The question is so direct, so honest, that I don't have a prepared answer. Why did I stop? Because my father told me to. Because it wasn't ‘appropriate.’ Because I learned to put away the things that made me happy if they didn't fit the person I was supposed to become.
“I thought people would make fun of me,” I say.
He frowns. “That's stupid.”
“You're absolutely right.”
“Josh!” His mom calls. “We need to fix your tail!”
