Summary: Renesmee and Edward attend a Father/Daughter dance being held at Nessie's elementary school.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, come on!" She pulled at my arm as the other father's held hands with their daughter's, looking at the decorated school. Lights were strung throughout the hallways in straight lines of twinkles. It almost reminded me of the decorations that were hung about the trees at Bella's and my wedding, along with the graduation party. I thought back to those days when life was simple and easygoing, but now as I look down to my daughter who was impatiently still pulling at my arm, I am thankful for all the complications that I went through to get to her. I would go through everything all over again.
We entered the large gymnasium to see the dim lights along with soft music playing. Chairs were displayed around tables that were set up along the sides of the gym. Candles on each with a glass of water. I had to admit to myself, for fourth graders, this was defiantly fancied up enough even to impress a 105 year old.
The principal greeted us and told all of the men entering with their daughters, to pick a table of their choosing. Our table was further to the corner where my skin would not show in the lights that were lit within. Renesmee knew this, and it made me proud to know that I didn't have to tell her but that she already knew our limitations. "This is quite the nice setup." I said, admiring the tables with white tops and flower petals splayed out.
"Yes," She agreed easily as I held out her chair, and scooted her in. "You clean up nice." She laughed her glorious laugh that I always longed to hear. I looked down to the simple tie and white shirt that I had put on. Brushing my hair, and shining my shoes, must have been the improvement that she wanted to see on me. If I could have blushed, I would have. And she knew that.
"Not in comparison with you." She did blush.
A song kicked on and each of the father's held out their hands to their litte ones. I stood up as well, holding my hand out to the second reason for my existence. She shook her head. "Daddy, I'm like Momma, I can't dance!"
I picked her up as she laughed with delight. Once we were on the dance floor, I set her two little feet on top of my big ones. She didn't complain, only enjoyed the music. But one thing that got to me the most was the fact that she was not only enjoying being at the dance, but she was enjoying being with me.
And to any father who's ever experienced this kind of love coming from your child, would know what I'm talking about.