“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
His answer sounded exactly like Kaylee’s response at dinner.
I watched the side entrance as the junior varsity match continued.
Six o’clock passed.
Then six-oh-five.
I started worrying that Dad might have encountered trouble on the road.
At 6:12, the side door finally opened.
My father walked inside.
He wore his tan Sunday jacket, a crisp white shirt, polished shoes, and his favorite green seed-company cap.
In his right hand was his familiar hickory cane.
Instead of joining us in the bleachers, he walked directly toward the seniors gathering near the court.
Kaylee saw him and broke into a smile.
She hurried over and slipped her arm through his.
From the bleachers, I watched Travis notice them.
First came confusion.
Then recognition.
He turned slowly toward me.
“Jodi?”
“She asked Grandpa to walk with her,” I whispered. “Tuesday night, after dinner.”
Travis looked back toward Kaylee.
She was laughing at something Dad had said.
