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.

“I walked a lot farther than that in a snowstorm to get to the barn,” he said. “I suppose I can make it across a gymnasium for my granddaughter.”

I didn’t tell Travis that night.

I want to be honest about that too.

I could have told him.

He’d have known what it meant. Maybe he’d have changed his mind before the game.

But then it would’ve been the same thing as making him. A man changing his mind because his father-in-law was about to show him up.

I didn’t want that either.

So I let him go to bed not knowing.

He kissed me goodnight, like always. He set his alarm for 5:15, like always. He didn’t say anything

about Kaylee. And neither did I.