Learning to Dance

Her new haircut always made her hair stick up all over the
place when she first woke up. Her eyes were still sleep-
filled, her skin a little puffy. He wanted to get back in the
bed and kiss her a thousand times over.
“Are you ashamed of me?” he asked instead.
Her eyes flashed with something he couldn’t read. “Stop
asking estúpido questions, Up.” She rolled lightly out of the
bed and walked toward the bathroom. “Let’s go and see
Rosie. And don’t forget, we’re sparring today. I hope you’re
ready.”
She said it playfully, but he couldn’t help but hear a
warning there. Had he imagined it?
They arrived at Rosie’s hospital room to see her awake
but looking exhausted, little Ty sleeping beside her, a
bundle of squirming blankets curled in her arm.
“Rosie,” said Up.
“Hi, Up,” she said, in a shaking voice. Her cheeks were
creased with tears. “Hi, Taz. Thanks for coming.” She
smiled, and pressed a kiss to the top of the bundle. “This is
Ree.”
“Ree?” asked Taz.
“Rheanna, it was my grandmother’s name,” she said,
looking at the bundle with love. “But Connor had a thing
for nicknames – Ty hasn’t been Tyson since the day he was
born.” She took in an unsteady breath, and gave them
another small smile. “She’s awake - would you like to hold
her, Up?”
“Oh, no, I don’t think-”
“Don’t be silly,” Rosie said, raising the bundle toward
him. Doubtfully, he reached out and took it, nestling it
awkwardly against his left arm, and his chest.
It – she – was so tiny. Her little eyes struggled to open,
and a miniscule hand emerged from the blankets to grasp at
him. He let her wrap her hand around his right index finger