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i cannot dance upon my toes

Summary:

JJ and Emily attend their daughter's dance recital.

Notes:

iris is 5 y/o

title from an emily dickinson poem :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

JJ carefully slides in the last bobby pin, hands lowering to rest upon Iris’s narrow shoulders. She meets a pair of curious brown eyes in the mirror. “What do you think?”

Iris purses her lips and reaches up to pat the neat bun JJ had pulled her dark hair into. “Good.” She decides.

“Not too tight?” JJ checks. Sounds of Emily rummaging around downstairs drift in through the open bathroom door. They likely don’t have too much time left until they need to get going and she’d rather  re-do Iris’s hair here at home, than in the cramped, busy changing room of their small local theatre.

Iris shakes her head, though. JJ smiles and gathers the hair supplies, figuring it’s better safe than sorry to bring them along anyway. Iris hops down from the step stool, and JJ is glad she enforced a ‘non-slip socks over tights’ situation (much to Iris’s dismay) because she prefers not needing to change their plans from driving to the theatre, to driving to the hospital because her daughter’s antics have her slipping and falling. Emily is already nervous enough right now. (As is JJ, if she’s being honest with herself).

“Where are my glasses?”

JJ sticks the comb into the small pouch and zips it up, grabbing Iris’s glasses from their spot on the sink. She unfolds the legs and crouches down, sliding the frames onto Iris’s face. They slide down a bit and Iris scrunches her nose to move them back into place. “There you go, baby.”

“Not a baby,” Iris argues. She skips out of the bathroom and seconds later JJ hears little footsteps thundering down the stairs. There’s a somewhat muted yell of “Mama!” followed by Emily’s excited gasp and gushing over Iris’s completed dancing attire.

A smile plays at JJ’s lips as she turns off the light and follows Iris downstairs. Emily has concluded her complimenting of Iris’s outfit, and their daughter is now busy running circles around the living room, but the adoration is still plain in Emily’s eyes. JJ sidles up to her, arm resting on Emily’s waist as she presses a kiss to her wife’s cheek. “I know, right.”

“I just want to pause this moment,” Emily says quietly. Her eyes track Iris, whose excitement and hyper-activeness are upping with every passing second. JJ knows a big part of it is nerves for her first recital, for the unknown experience. They’ll take a moment before heading into the theatre to sit with Iris and give her a chance to cling and ground herself. “Maybe not forever, but a little while longer, at least. I can’t believe how big she’s getting.”

“Feels like only yesterday that we brought her home.”

“Yes,” Emily agrees. “And now she’s in school making friends and doing dance recitals.”

JJ recognises the melancholy feeling; being oh-so proud of their little girl growing up, gaining independence and finding out what she likes. There’s still plenty Iris depends on them to do, but they’re also learning to let go, sometimes, let Iris explore parts of the world by herself, with her friends. Like dance class: a strict ‘no parents allowed in’ situation, outside of which Emily and JJ had seen Iris bloom and gain confidence as she showed off her dance moves.

JJ’s arm tightens around Emily’s waist. “We’ll just have to soak it in as much as we can.”

Emily sighs. “Yeah.”

They watch bemusedly as Iris continues her zooming around the living room, until she gets a little out of hand. Emily steps out of JJ’s embrace just in time to catch Iris as she is mid-air from a big jump off the couch arm.

“Okay, silly goose,” Emily says, settling a giggling Iris on her hip. “I think that’s enough running around for now. We’ll go put on our shoes and get ready to leave.”

“Can I wear my rainboots?” Iris wriggles in Emily’s grip until she’s set down and hops her way to the hallway.

Emily and JJ cast a simultaneous glance at the clear blue sky outside.

“Sure,” JJ allows. “Take off your socks before you put them on, okay? Once we’re at the theatre, you can put on your ballet shoes.”

Emily follows Iris into the hallway. There’s the rustling of jackets and thumping of shoes while JJ makes her rounds through the living room and kitchen to gather the last supplies, zipping everything up into Iris’s backpack. When she gets to the hallway, Iris is impatiently waiting by the door, tracking JJ’s every movement as she puts on her boots and jacket.

Iris turns to Emily. “Can we go now?”

“Now we can go,” Emily confirms. She unlocks the deadbolt and Iris uses all her strength to pull on the doorhandle until the front door swings open.

“Here,” JJ says. Emily turns just in time to catch the car keys. Iris hops down the porch to the stepping stones, completing her usual ritual of jumping down them towards the gate, giving JJ ample time to set the alarm and lock the door.

The ride to the local theatre takes them barely fifteen minutes, but it’s plenty of time for Iris to fall silent and practically vibrate in her car seat with nervous excitement. JJ attempts to distract her with her favourite songs, but even that helps very little.

Once parked, unbuckles Iris and helps her out. Their usually very independent daughter latches onto her side, one arm wrapped around JJ’s leg, the thumb of her other hand disappearing into her mouth, wide brown eyes looking around the busy parking lot. JJ checks the time, then exchanges looks with Emily, who pops open the car booth.

“C’mon, Iris.” JJ gently guides her over, sitting her on the edge of the trunk next to
Emily, before she too takes a seat.

“We have to get inside,” Iris protests around her thumb, looking between her moms.

“We have a minutes,” JJ says. They watch other cars drive by on the parking lot, kids hopping out of their seats, dressed and ready for a dance performance.

Iris’s shoulders drop and she scoots over, climbing onto Emily’s lap. JJ moves, closing the gap between them. Iris tilts her head up, Emily leaning down until Iris can whisper to her.

Emily hums in response. “I know.”

Iris presses her lips together. “That’s not very helpful.”

Emily supresses a smile at the sass. “Hm, maybe note. But did you know Mommy and I still get nervous?”

Iris blinks. “You do?”

“Totally,” JJ says. She runs a gentle hand over Iris’s head, careful of her bun. “All grownups do. I used to be very nervous to stand in front of crowds.”

“But not anymore?”

“Sometimes, still,” JJ admits. “But I’ve had lots of practice, so it’s not anywhere near as scary.”

“I haven’t had any practice,” Iris pouts. “What if I do everything wrong?”

“The most important thing,” Emily says. “Is that you have a good time. And your teacher is coming up on stage with you, right?”

Iris nods.

“So, if you do forget, you can just look at her.”

Iris takes that in, face serious, but JJ sees some of her worries taking a back seat.

“Is it just nerves that you’re feeling, in here” – Emily pokes at Iris’s tummy, prompting a short giggle – “or is it other stuff, too?”

Iris thinks on that for a second. “I’m excited too, I think.” JJ and Emily hum. “I get to wear a costume, and it’s got lights.”

Now that is something that has come up before in Iris’s excited recount of her dance lessons during the run-up to the recital. JJ rests her hand on the small of Emily’s back, hoping to convey her gratitude for allowing Iris to remember the joy as well.

“And your hair is all done-up pretty like a real ballerina,” Emily says. “and you get to hang out with your friends until it’s your turn to dance up on the stage.”

Iris nods.

They spend another minute or so in contemplative silence, there, in their car booth, as a family.

“Can we go in now?” Iris asks finally. Her eyes track along the parking lot, having spotted a teammate.

JJ hops down, helping Iris down from Emily’s lap. “Yeah, let’s go inside, baby.”

Emily shuts the trunk and locks the car, Iris’s backpack dangling from her shoulder. Iris grasps a hand from each of them, swinging their arms back and forth with every step. Some shyness is back in her step when they cross the threshold to the theatre, but it’s forgotten soon after when she spots her dance teacher and class gathering in a corner of the foyer. A handful of older teens hover nearby, chatting with the little kids. JJ figures they must have been recruited to keep the kids in control.

Iris detaches herself from her moms to run up to the group, greeting her friends. There’s a brief moment of hugs and kisses, after, Emily helping Iris to put her backpack on and with a last good-luck wish, JJ and Emily head into the theatre to find a seat. They’re not the first inside, but they’re plenty on time and find a seat not too far back where they settle and wait for the recital to begin.

JJ stares at the dark, empty stage. The air is filled with the buzz of chattering guests—family, friends and proud parents alike. She hopes with all her might that Iris has a good time tonight, not too touched by the nerves she’d talked about. JJ wasn’t lying, when she said there are still times she gets nervous to be the one talking in front of big crowds. Sometimes, there’s that moment of fear she needs to push through to do her job. But she knows she can do it. Just like she knows Iris can.

When the overhead lights finally dim, Emily’s hand finds hers, squeezing softly. JJ leans into Emily’s side, ever so grateful they get to experience this moment together.

Tonight is a combined, end-of-the-school-year recital of the different groups from Iris’s dance school, a true mix of all ages and dance styles. Iris’s class isn’t the first, but they don’t have to wait too long for it to be their turn. The crowd quiets as a group of tiny ballerinas flit from the wings, guided by their teacher and her assistant.

JJ cranes her neck, watching the kids trickle onto the stage one by one. When Iris finally appears, Emily and JJ gasp as one.

Their daughter is wearing a white tutu on top of her pink leotard, with fairy lights shining through the fabric like she’s told Emily and JJ many times before. She resolutely stares at the floor as the teacher directs her to her spot, but once she’s in place, she glances up, out at the crowd. Her face scrunches a little as she squints against the bright theatre lights.

Emily waves, just in case, but Iris doesn’t appear to notice. She glances aside at her teacher, hands coming to rest on her hips in a perfect copy o the teacher’s pose when the first notes drift from the speakers.

JJ holds her breath as the dance begins, the row of little girls faithfully copying the teacher’s movement as best as they can. There’s hesitancy is Iris’s body, but after the first refrain from the song is over with, it’s slowly but surely replaced with more certainty, her dance moves bigger and louder, her careful twirls full of energy.

JJ’s heart grows about three sizes, threatening to burst out of her chest.

It’s mesmerizing, watching her daughter up on that stage, knowing that is the little person they’re raising.

The music swells, and the group of little ballerinas gather together in a circle, carefully locking their hands before skipping around. JJ doesn’t think she has ever seen anything cuter.

Time simultaneously appears to stretch out endlessly and go by too fast. The song can’t last more than a minute or three, and when the music does fade, the kids pose along with the teacher, loud applause arising from the crowd.

JJ’s hands are sore from clapping when the teachers and ballerinas gather in a line at the front of the stage, ready to take a bow. She glances at Emily, needing to share this moment, when-

“Em? Are you crying?”

“No, I’m not,” Emily hoarsely denies, suspiciously glinting eyes glued to their daughter’s form.

JJ simply wraps her arm around Emily in support, trusting her wife to applaud for two as they watch Iris shine on stage.

Notes:

this was stuck in my drafts for a bit, so figured i'd post it! not entirely satisfied with the last parts, but i'll come and edit later. hope you enjoyed this domestic fluff :)

<3

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