children.
Derek and his wife, Laura, had a daughter named Mia who was the same age as Audrey.
The girls had taken beginner ballet together years earlier.
Derek was familiar with our family, and Audrey had grown up calling him Uncle Derek.
That Sunday, he was having dinner with us when Audrey brought up the studio again.
“Dad, what if I take the earlier bus?”
Scott sighed.
“Sweetheart, we still have to figure out how to get you home.”
Audrey looked down at her plate.
Derek set down his fork.
“Why hasn’t anybody asked me?”
Scott looked confused.
“Asked you what?”
“To drive her.”
I turned toward him.
“Derek, that’s three evenings a week.”
He shrugged.
“My office is just down the street from the studio.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I can pick Audrey up after school, take her there, finish paperwork nearby while she’s in class, and bring her
