She turned toward the aisle.
Dillon was already standing. The four rows between them might as well have been four miles.
He didn’t move toward her. He waited.
Of course he did. He was Dillon, who showed up. Showing up meant being there. It didn’t mean closing the gap before the gap was hers to close.
She tried to walk to Dillon, but she promptly got mobbed by people congratulating her for Makayla’s spectacular performance. She was forced to spend several minutes being gracious and pleasant. She appreciated everyone’s enthusiasm, she really did. But she had somewhere else to be right now.
Finally, the other WoWS ran strategic interference and formed a wall between her and the well-wishers that let her escape and walk over to Dillon, standing patiently in his clean shirt and sport coat with his cowboy hat in his hands.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice unsteady.
“I promised Makayla I’d come.”
She nodded, not surprised to find out her daughter had engineered him being here today.
“I would have come anyway, though.”
She smiled. “I know.”
He looked at her like a man surrendering. Not to her. To himself. “Tessa. Can we— Can I—” He stopped.
She waited.
“Can I follow you home?”
She drew a long breath. The auditorium was full of parents chatting and collecting children. Arlo was standing at the back, not approaching them, but watching their exchange with deep satisfaction.
“Yes, Dillon. Follow me home.”
Makayla flew out of the backstage door and across the auditorium, which was starting to look like a gym again as some dads started stacking chairs off to one side of the space. Tessa watched her daughter throw herself into Dillon’s arms with such force he had to take a step back to regain his balance.
Laughing, he set her on her feet and grinned down at her. He said, in a voice rough with feeling, “Makayla Lawrence, you are the best fiddler in Montana.”
“Did you see the tempo change?”
“I felt it in my teeth.”
“I had a hard time getting it just right, but Professor Cohen said I could do it.”
“He was right.”
Suddenly shy, and looked at Tessa and asked cautiously, “What did you think of my performance?”
“That was the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life,” Tessa said, and her voice broke on the word life in a way she did not try to disguise.
Makayla burst into tears.
So did Tessa. Again.
Dillon, with one hand on Makayla’s shoulder and the other at the small of Tessa’s back, pulled them both into group hug that was very nearly the best moment of Tessa’s life.
Around them, coats were collected. Goldfish crackers were demanded. The music teacher, passing on her way out, paused long enough to touch Tessa lightly on the elbow and murmur, “She’s a remarkable child, Mrs. Lawrence. Also — for the record — she has been driving me crazy for months, coming into my room at lunch to practice fiddling. I’m very glad it’s finally out in the open and she can practice at home, now.”
Tessa laughed wetly. “Thank you so much for helping her.”
The teacher smiled warmly and left.
