She groaned. In all the hoopla, she’d forgotten to get herself ready. She was still dressed in her oldest pair of jeans, a baggy UW sweatshirt, and scuffed Adidas. “I look like a bag lady.”

“But one who went to college.”

Ignoring him, she ran out of the car, hearing Marah shriek behind her, “Wear makeup, Mom!”

Kate dug through her drawers, found a pair of fairly new black stirrup pants and a thigh-length black and white V-neck sweater. Were stirrup pants still in style? She didn’t know. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she anchored it with a white scrunchie, then brushed her teeth and put on mascara and blush.

Outside, a horn honked.

She grabbed a pair of black silk ankle socks and a pair of suede flats and ran back to the car.

“We’re going to be late,” Marah whined. “Everyone else is probably already there.”

“We’re fine,” Kate said, only slightly out of breath.

They drove through town and parked at the Island Auditorium. Inside, it was pandemonium: twelve girls between the ages of seven and eleven, their harried parents, dozens of rowdy, disinterested siblings, and Miss Parker, their seventy-year-old dance instructor, who demanded strict propriety at all times and somehow managed to corral this wild bunch without ever raising her voice. Kate carried the costumes into the dressing room, where she helped the girls get ready, bobby-pinned and ponytailed and sprayed their hair, and helped them put on a few touches of mascara and lip gloss.

When she was finished, she knelt down in front of her daughter. “You ready?”

“Did you bring the video camera?”

“Of course we did.”

Marah grinned at that, showing off her crooked, oversized teeth. “I’m glad you’re here, Mommy,” she said.

And suddenly it was all worth it: the crazy deadline, the late nights sewing and ironing, the tired, bleeding fingers. She did it all for a split second of togetherness. “Me, too.”

Marah hugged her. “I love you, Mommy.”

Kate held her tightly, smelling the sweet, powdery scent of her. She thought in that moment how close they were to childhood’s end and the start of puberty, and she held on too long. These moments were too rare already.

Marah pulled back, gave her another grin, and ran backstage with her friends. “ ’Bye!”

Kate got up slowly and went out to the auditorium, where Johnny sat in the third row, center, with a son on either side of him. She searched the seats around them, looking for Tully. “Is she here yet?”

“No. And she hasn’t called, either. Maybe something came up.” He grinned. “Like a date with George Clooney.”

Smiling, Kate took her seat beside Lucas. All around her, parents and grandparents filed into their seats, bringing out their video cameras as soon as they sat down.