Dancing in Lake Mistletoe (Lake Mistletoe #4)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dutch

I t’s daddy-daughter date night.

Isaac and I treat Josie and Cobie to dinner at the Italian Cucina on Main Street before corralling them into my truck and heading to the Sun Valley Resort.

Mom and Sela helped get them ready. They’re the cutest things, wearing dress coats with gold buttons and faux fur collars, Christmas dresses, tights, and matching ballet flats, topped with a red bow.

We haven’t told them where we’re taking them, and the two are nearly bursting at the seams with excitement.

“I love surprises,” Josie says as I help her into the backseat.

“Me too,” Cobie squeals from her seat.

The two chat animatedly the entire ride, and when we reach the resort, they ooh and aah over the lights and the holiday decorations.

I hand the key fob over to the valet as Isaac helps the girls out.

We lead them through the crowd in front of the hotel, my hand firm around Josie’s small one as we make our way around to the entrance. It’s chilly outside, the winter air biting. The snow from Wednesday’s blizzard is still piled high, but the warmth from the large stone fireplace in the lobby envelops us as soon as we step through the doors.

People are milling around. Some are dressed in snowsuits, ready to hit the slopes for some evening skiing. Some are gathered around the fire in comfy attire with mugs of warm cider or cocoa in hand. Others are waiting at the bar, dressed for dinner.

We make our way to the right of the check-in desk and down a hallway leading to the theater. The resort shops line the way, every winter luxury imaginable displayed in the windows.

When we make it to the large wooden doors at the front of the theater, I guide us inside and present our tickets to the box office attendant before going in search of our seats.

Josie’s eyes are wide, taking it all in—the twinkling lights strung across the ceiling, the grand staircase leading up to the balconies, and the people around us, dressed in their finest for the evening. She looks up at me, her face a mix of excitement and nerves, and I smile down at her.

“Ready for the show, kiddo?” I ask, giving her hand a light squeeze.

“The show?” she repeats.

“Daddy, are we going to the ballet?” Cobie asks beside us.

Isaac’s eyes come to mine. Then, he smiles down at his little girl. “We sure are, sweetheart.”

Josie’s eyes go round. “Are we gonna see Mindi in The Nutcracker ?”

I nod.

She jumps in the air as her eyes dart around, looking at everything. It’s her first time at a real ballet, and I’m not sure what she’ll think of it.

She’s used to her classes, recitals, and the general chaos of her dance school, not professional sets and orchestras. But when she came home from class one day and told me her teacher had mentioned The Nutcracker , her eyes lit up, and when she found out I was working on the sets, she peppered me with a thousand questions.

I knew I had to bring her then, and that was well before Mindi came into our lives.

We find our seats near the front—close enough for them to see the dancers, but far enough back that they can take it all in. Josie climbs into her seat, bouncing a little as she settles in, her legs dangling over the edge. I hand her the program, and she looks at the pictures, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Which one’s Clara again?” she asks, pointing at the cast list.

Mom purchased a storybook about The Nutcracker last week, and we’ve read it every night before bed in preparation for tonight.

I point to the ballerina’s picture. “She’s the girl who gets the nutcracker,” I explain, leaning in so she can hear me. “She’s the main character, kind of like the hero of the story.”

She nods, her eyes lingering on the picture. The lights start to dim, and she sits up straighter, clutching the program tightly in her hands.

The hush that falls over the audience when the curtain lifts and the overture begins is almost as magical as the setting itself.

Josie leans forward, eyes glued to the stage. I glance down at her, watching her face more than the performance. Her eyes are wide, reflecting the lights from the stage, and she barely blinks as the dancers begin to appear. The music grows louder, filling the theater with an unmistakable festive sound, as the battle scene with the Mouse King captures her attention completely.

She jumps when the Nutcracker Prince fights back, gripping my arm as if she were watching an action movie.

When the snowflakes begin to fall in the Land of Snow, she lets out a breath, her hand still on my sleeve, her gaze softening as the ballerinas twirl in perfect unison.

“They’re so pretty,” she gasps.

During intermission, Josie turns to me, her face flushed with excitement. “Daddy, isn’t the Sugar Plum Fairy next?” she asks.

I grin. The Sugar Plum Fairy is her favorite character from the storybook, and Mindi is her favorite ballerina in real life.

I ruffle her hair. “I’m pretty sure we’ll see her soon.”

We lead the girls out to the concession stand and let them pick out a snack and soda while Isaac and I order a cocktail. Josie spots a plush Sugar Plum Fairy doll. She tugs me to the souvenir counter, where she talks me into buying the doll and a set of nutcracker ornaments for our tree. Isaac also purchases a doll for Cobie, and we end up carrying their drinks as they tote their prizes.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” Isaac says as we follow them back to our seats. “She’ll never forget this.”

“My pleasure, man. I’m glad we could do this for them.”

The lights dim just as we get settled in, and Josie hugs the doll tightly as we wait for the second act to begin.

I only get so many years with her. I have to make each one memorable before she goes off to college and meets some boy, and I have to pass the baton to him, and he gets to be the prince who holds the key to all her smiles.

Until then, they’re all mine.