"I can't depend on anybody, can I? I have to do what I say I'll do, but nobody else does."
Around the circuit again, Laura thought. "I'm sorry you're disappointed your father won't be there. He's—"
"I don't care about him." In a bad-tempered move, Ali shrugged and scooted out from under her mother's hands. "He never comes anyway. It doesn't matter."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Nothing. I'll go. I'll do it because I keep my promises. My hair looks much better now," she said with dignity. "Thank you."
"Honey, if you'd—"
"I have to finish getting dressed." She pressed her lips together, a small girl, pretty in her tights and ballet skirt. "It's not your fault, Mama. I didn't mean it to sound that way. I'm not angry with you."
"Then what—
"Mama!" Kayla's wail bounced down the hallway. "I can't find my red shoes. I want to wear my red ones."
"You can go help her," Ali said and tried to smile. "I'll be downstairs in a minute. Thanks for doing my hair over."
"It's all right." Because she could see the sorrow haunting Ali's eyes, she leaned down and kissed her on both cheeks. "I love playing with your hair. And I suppose if you wanted to put just a little of that lip gloss on, it would be all right."
"You mean before we go, not just for onstage?"
"Just for tonight." Laura tapped her fingers against Ali's lips. "You're not growing up on me any faster than I can help it."
"Maaamaaa, my shoes."
"And neither is she," Laura murmured. "I'm coming. Downstairs, Ali, ten minutes tops."
She found the shoes. Who would have expected to find them right there on the shoe shelf in the closet? After pulling a brush through her own hair, Laura herded her girls toward the door.
"Come on, troops, get a move on. This train leaves in five minutes. I'll get it, Annie," she called out when the doorbell rang. "Could you check on Bongo before you leave? He's under my bed and—"
She broke off as she pulled the door open and found Michael standing on the other side.
"Michael! You're home."
"It looks that way."
If she had leapt into his arms, right there in her own home, there in front of her children, he doubted he could have stuck with the decision he'd made. But she didn't. She only smiled at him, held out a hand.
It was Kayla who leapt. "Did you bring Max back?" With the simplicity of childhood, she hugged his waist and lifted her mouth for a kiss. "Did he come home too?"
"Sure. Max and I travel together. Where'd you get the red shoes, kid? Pretty snappy."
"Mama bought them. They're my favorites."
"You came."
Michael halted his admiring study of Kayla's red shoes and lifted his gaze to Ali's face. She looked, he thought, so much like her mother just then, with that stunned wonder on her face and the emotion swimming in her eyes.
"I told you I would."
"I thought you'd forgotten. I thought you were too busy."
"Forget an invitation from a beautiful ballerina to watch her dance?" He shook his head as he straightened. "Boy, that wouldn't say much about my memory." Head cocked, he held out the bouquet of pink baby roses. "We do have a date, right? You didn't go call some other guy to take my place?"
"No. Are these for me?" Mouth open in a litle O of confused delight, she stared at the roses. "For me?"