First Dance

As she came down the stairs, she felt as if she was floating on air. "Which is a good thing," she thought ruefully. "If I wasn't floating, I could break my neck trying to walk in these heels. How am I ever going to dance?"

She smiled at her mother who was waiting nervously by the front window.

"You look beautiful," her mother beamed. "Pink is definitely your color and that raspberry sash shows how tiny your waist is. All the other girls are going to be so jealous. Doesn't you daughter look beautiful, Henry?"

"She's always beautiful. Pink dress or muddy jeans." Henry replied with his eyes glued to the television.

"Oh, Daddy," she giggled, "look at me. Do I look all right?"

Henry turned off the TV, got to his feet, and motioned for his daughter to turn around. He frowned and pretended to study her from all angles. "When did my little girl grown up?" he wondered. "What has happened to the little girl in muddy jeans and pigtails that liked to go fishing with me?"

"Well, do I?" she insisted. "Do I look all right?"

"Princess, you're way past "all right". You are the most beautiful girl in the world, next to your mother, of course." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. ""May I have the first dance with the most beautiful girl in the world?"

Her mother laughed with them as they twirled across the living room floor. "My heart is bursting," she thought. "What did I do to deserve a daugher as sweet and beautiful as Sarah Lynn and a man so full of love as Henry?"

She began to cry, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She tried hastily to brush them away, but the stream turned into a torrent and the accompanying sniffles alerted her husband and daughter.

Her daughter ran to her anxiously. "Mama, don't cry. What's the matter?"

"It's all right, honey," she assured her, "It's just that I never danced with my father."