My husband refused to walk my 17-year-old daughter, his stepdaughter for nine years, at her high school senior night. “That’s something a real father should do,” he told her. But when her name was announced Thursday evening, her 79-year-old grandfather appeared with his walking cane and proudly accompanied her onto the court.

Dad didn’t criticize Travis.

He didn’t ask why Kaylee had been rejected.

He simply said, “What time should I show up?”

Thursday evening, the school gym was filled with the familiar scents of popcorn and freshly polished floors.

Maroon and gold decorations hung along the railings.

At our school, seniors were

introduced before the varsity volleyball match.

Each player walked to center court with a family member and presented that person with a red rose.

There were six graduating seniors.

Kaylee was scheduled fourth.

I took my seat in the front row, wearing my maroon booster club sweatshirt.

Travis sat beside me in his fleece vest.

He didn’t know my father would be there.

I hadn’t mentioned it.

And I knew that was my decision to answer for.

At 6:12, the side entrance opened.

Dad stepped inside wearing his tan

Sunday jacket.

His favorite seed corn cap, the one he saved for special occasions, sat on his head.