His voice cracked.
“But I was wrong.”
He swallowed.
“I’ve been showing up for you for nine years, Kay. I’ve been your dad in all the ways that matter. I just never had the courage to say it.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
He handed the microphone back.
Kaylee didn’t speak.
Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
He hugged her tightly.
Her long blonde braid fell across the back of his fleece vest.
I stood in the bleachers, crying openly.
Then Dad did something I will never forget.
Kaylee had given him her red rose when they reached center court.
He was holding it carefully beside his cane.
When she stepped away from Travis, Grandpa extended the flower toward him.
Travis shook his head.
“No, sir. That’s yours.”
Dad kept his hand extended.
“Take it, son.”
Travis hesitated.
Grandpa smiled.
“I already raised my daughter. This one’s yours.”
