Not so amazing.
“I’s never naughty, Daddy.”
“Uh-huh.” He turned away and if she thought she could get away with it, she’d have poked her tongue out at him.
Spike moved towards a big cane basket, that sat next to the stage. That was new too.
“What’s in there, Daddy?”
“Play outfits.” He opened the lid and started pulling things out. There was a sparkly pink cape and a princess tiara. A bright orange feather boa. A pair of oversized glasses.
“Here it is.” He held up a lavender tutu.
“Daddy! That’s so cool!”
“Figured it might be easier to wear than your ballerina outfit with your shoulder.”
Yeah, her ballerina outfit would be hard to get on and off, but this would be perfect.
“I wanna wear it now. I needs tights and a top though.” She glanced down at her own outfit.
“I’ll get you something to wear. First, though.” He drew out her behavior chart, adding two ticks to the naughty side.
“What’s that for?” she cried.
“For earlier. Trying to wear that awful outfit.”
“I thought you were joking about that!”
“Since when do I joke?”
He grasped hold of her hand and led her to the desk and chair. On top of the desk, he’d set out paper and her coloring pens already.
“Sit.”
When she was seated, he handed her a ballpoint pen and pointed to the bit of paper. “Fifty lines. I am perfect just the way I am.”
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.
“Not as much as I love you.”
* * *
Later on that evening, they sat outside on the rocking chairs. She still wore her tutu, although she had plenty of other layers on too. And she was bundled up under a blanket. She finished her hot chocolate as she stared out at the twinkling lights.
Spike stood and grabbed her empty mug, placing it down. He held out a hand to her. “Dance with me.”
Her mouth parted. “Really? I thought you didn’t like to dance?”
He shrugged. “Will be more like swaying back and forth than dancing.”
With a smile she put her small hand in his much larger one and he gently helped her up, holding her hand and leading her down the steps onto the lawn. Under the fairy lights, he drew her close against his wide chest. Placing both hands on her lower back, he was careful not to place any pressure on her injured shoulder.
She snuggled in close, breathing him in. She felt so safe. Loved.
“Promise me something,” he murmured.
“Anything.”