Chapter 9 - The First Dance
“Dad?”
I turned around to find Jessi standing in the doorway of the balcony, the soft glow of the patio lights catching the intricate lace of her veil.
“The band is waiting,” she said softly, holding out her hand with a tender, knowing smile. “And I believe you promised me the first dance after the ceremony.”
My throat tightened, a sudden lump forming that no amount of logistics management or warehouse grit could swallow. I reached out and took my daughter’s hand, feeling the quiet strength and grace that she had carried through every single year we had fought together.
As we stepped onto the polished wooden dance floor under the canopy of fairy lights, the murmurs of the crowd faded away. Mark joined us halfway through, cutting in with a wide grin to spin his new bride, while my other five daughters rushed onto the floor to join the circle, laughing and dancing with an uninhibited joy that filled the entire courtyard.
I stood back for a moment, watching them spin—six strong, brilliant, extraordinary young women who had never needed a designer handbag or a Caribbean vacation to know their own worth.
Arthur Vance walked up beside me, handing me a crystal flute of sparkling cider.
May you like
“To raising good kids, Luca,” Arthur toasted quietly, tapping his glass against mine.
“To raising them right,” I agreed, watching my daughters laugh together under the stars.
