chapter 4
1200 Words
**SAGE**
Tommy is crying in my movement class and I don't know what to do about it.
He's sitting against the studio mirror, knees pulled to his chest, and the other students are pretending not to notice.
I sit down beside him. "You want to talk about it?"
"My dad saw pictures from the showcase," he says quietly. "He told my mom I'm confused. That letting me dance is encouraging delusion."
I feel anger spike in my chest. "What did your mom say?"
"She didn't say anything. She just stood there."
The silence is worse than the words.
"Tommy, look at me." He lifts his head. "Your dad is wrong. You're not confused. You're exactly who you're supposed to be."
"Then why does it hurt so much?"
"Because the people we love have the power to hurt us most. That doesn't make them right."
He wipes his face. "Does it get easier?"
I want to lie and tell him yes. But I'm tired of pretty lies.
"Sometimes it gets easier. Sometimes it just gets different. But you surviving and becoming who you are? That's not negotiable."
He nods slowly. I stand and offer him my hand.
"Come on. Let's dance it out."
After everyone leaves, I stay behind to lock up.
My phone buzzes. A text from Adrian: *Where should I meet you tomorrow?*
Me: *Jefferson High School. 1:45 PM. Don't be late.*
Adrian: *That's oddly specific.*
Me: *Day four is about showing up. Literally.*
I pull up his name on Google and scroll through recent articles. Buried on page three is a brief mention of his daughter Natasha winning a regional swimming championship.
The article is eight months old.
**************
Saturday afternoon, I'm sitting in the bleachers at Jefferson High School. The pool smells like chlorine and echoes with announcements.
Adrian isn't here yet.
One-fifty. One fifty-five. The meet starts at two. I'm about to text him when I see him walking through the entrance. He's wearing jeans and a sweater, the most casual I've seen him.
He spots me and climbs up.
"This is day four?" he asks.
"This is day four."
"My daughter's swim meet."
"Yes."
"How did you know about this?"
"Your ex-wife called me. She wanted to make sure you'd actually show up."
"She doesn't trust me."
"Can you blame her?"
Before he can answer, the announcer calls the first event. Girls' 200-meter freestyle. Adrian leans forward, searching the pool deck.
"That's her," he says quietly.
Natasha has Adrian's dark hair and sharp features, tall and lean in her team swimsuit. She's laughing with another girl on her team.
The swimmers take their positions. The buzzer sounds. Natasha dives in and I watch Adrian watching her. His whole body is tense, hands gripped on the bleacher seat.
She finishes second. When she climbs out of the pool, she looks up at the stands.
She sees Adrian.
The smile disappears. She stares at him for three full seconds, then turns away without acknowledging him.
Adrian looks like he's been slapped.
"She saw me," he says.
"Yes."
"She didn't wave."
He stands abruptly. "I should go talk to her."
I grab his arm. "No. You should sit here and watch the rest of her meet. She needs to see you stay."
"The performance is watching my daughter ignore me?"
"The performance is showing up even when it's uncomfortable. Even when you're not welcomed."
He sits, but everything about his posture screams discomfort. We watch three more events. Natasha swims in two of them. Each time she finishes, she looks anywhere but at the stands.
During a break, a woman climbs up to our section. Diane.
"You actually came," she says to Adrian.
"I said I would."
"You've said that before." She glances at me. "You must be Sage."
"Yes."
"Thank you for making sure he showed up."
"He showed up on his own. I just reminded him where to be."
Diane studies me, then looks back at Adrian. "She's swimming in the final in twenty minutes. Stay for that at least."
"I'm staying for all of it."
Something flickers in Diane's expression. She nods and heads back down.
Adrian is quiet. Finally, he speaks.
"I missed her last three meets."
"I know."
"Before that, I missed her birthday. And the school play."
"I know that too."
"Why do you care? This isn't in the contract."
I think about Tommy crying against the mirror. About my mother's silence when I needed her to speak.
"Because showing up matters. And you hired me to make you feel things. Well, this is one of them."
"What is?"
"Being present for someone else's moment instead of your own."
The final event is called. Natasha takes her position. Adrian leans forward, and this time I see his lips moving.
"What are you saying?" I ask.
"Come on, Natasha. You've got this."
She can't hear him. But he says it anyway.
The buzzer sounds. She dives. This time she's in the lead from the start. Adrian is gripping the seat so hard his knuckles are white.
She touches the wall first. Wins by a full body length.
Adrian is on his feet, cheering louder than I thought he was capable of. Natasha climbs out, and this time when she looks up, she doesn't look away.
She doesn't smile. Doesn't wave. Just looks at her father for a long moment.
Then she nods once and turns back to her team.
Adrian sits down slowly. "She acknowledged me."
"Yes."
"That's something, right?"
"That's everything."
When the meet ends, Natasha emerges from the locker room. Diane is waiting at the bottom of the bleachers. They talk briefly, then Diane looks up and nods. Natasha, reluctantly, starts climbing up.
"You came," she says.
"I came."
"Why?"
"Because I should have been here for the last three. And I wasn't. And I'm sorry."
She shifts her weight. "Okay."
"You were incredible out there."
"Thanks."
The silence stretches. Finally, Natasha speaks.
"Are you staying for dinner? Mom's making lasagna."
Adrian glances at me. I give him a look that says this is your choice.
"If that's okay with you and your mom, yes. I'd like that."
Something softens around her eyes.
"Okay. But you have to help make the salad."
"I'm terrible at cooking."
"I know. Mom told me about the breakfast thing." The corner of her mouth twitches. "It's actually kind of funny."
"It's humiliating."
"Yeah, but funny and humiliating." She adjusts her bag. "Come on. Mom's waiting."
She heads down. Adrian looks at me.
"Day four?" he asks.
"Day four. I'll see you on Monday."
"Sage." He catches my arm gently. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank your daughter for giving you another chance. Not everyone gets those."
I leave him and head for the exit. As I'm walking out, I see them through the window—Adrian, Diane, and Natasha walking to the parking lot together.
It's a start.
My phone buzzes. A text from Viv: How'd it go?
Me: He showed up.
Viv: And?
I watch Adrian help Natasha load her swim bag into the car, and something in my chest shifts uncomfortably.
Me: The kind where I'm starting to care if this actually works.
- Writer
