Then I noticed movement beside me.
Travis had stood.
At first, I assumed he was simply joining the applause.
But his hands remained at his sides.
He was staring toward the court.
His jaw tightened.
Then he reached for the railing and stepped down from the bleachers.
My heart began racing.
There were four steps between our seats and the gym floor.
I counted every one.
Travis crossed the sideline in his work boots, moving toward Kaylee and Dad.
They were about ten feet from center court when he reached them.
He approached Kaylee’s other side.
Then he offered her his arm.
My daughter stopped walking.
She looked at him.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
I could see her shoulders rise as she took a breath.
Then she slipped her free hand through his arm.
The three of them continued together.
Grandpa on one side.
Travis on the other.
Cane.
Step.
Step.
Travis adjusted his pace to match my father’s.
