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So we start in the grass. I keep a hold of the back of the seat, my other hand ready to grab the handles if I need to. But I won’t. Rosie has gotten a hang of riding her bike. She just needs a bit of reassurance.
After crossing the front yard a couple times, I say, “How about we try the street now?”
Rosie stares at the road, chewing on her bottom lip. Then she glances back at Jade, who nods. “You won’t let go of me?” she whispers.
“My hand won’t leave the bike seat.”
With a determined nod, she grips the handles of the bike. “I can be brave. Auntie Jade is brave. She stands up to my dad all the time.”
What?I glance at Jade, but I don’t think she heard.
Over the past year, I’ve learned a little about Rosie’s dad. He doesn’t seem like the greatest guy, which is probably why Jade takes care of her. It also makes sense why I’ve never seen him stop by. Hell, he didn’t show up for Rosie’s birthday party a few months ago. Even I went, and that’s saying something. I haven’t been to a birthday party since I was a kid.
“Ready, Mister Dominic?”
“Yeah.”
I grab the back of the bike, and Rosie starts pedaling. When we hit the end of the driveway, she stops and looks for cars, and I can’t help the prideful warmth that spreads through me. Just a couple weeks ago, she was still forgetting to make sure the road was clear. It isn’t that busy since it’s just a residential area, but you can never be too careful.
“Good job, squirt.”
She pushes off again, tensing as she moves from the driveway to the street. But she handles the little bump well.
“Don’t let go, Mister Dominic! Please don’t let go!”
“I’ve got you,” I say. “I promise.”
As she picks up speed, I run next to her, keeping my grip on the bike seat firm. We go down a few houses before turning around. I know Jade doesn’t like Rosie riding too far. She’d be fine since I’m with her, but I don’t want Jade to miss this.
After a couple more loops, Rosie gains some of her confidence back. The look of hesitance on her face fades, replaced by a cute little grin.
“You want me to keep holding on?” I ask. Then I check the road for cars before we turn around and head back.
“Yes! I can’t do it by myself!”
“I think you can, squirt. You just have to stay focused.”
“Mister Dominic, I don’t want to fall!” she shouts with a slight quiver in her voice.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I won’t let you crash.”
Brooke was the same way when she learned how to ride her bike. Her parents didn’t want to teach her, and her nanny tried, but she wasn’t very patient. So me, Alex, and Blaze all taught her. We did the same thing when she needed to learn how to drive, too.
The four of us were close growing up. It pained me to watch Alex get his parents’ attention while Brooke was constantly chided and scolded for the smallest things. It destroyed her self esteem, and whenever she tried something new, it showed.
When it came to teaching Brooke to ride her bike, I was the one who helped her the most. I’m the oldest, and at the time I was the biggest, so it made sense. But the thing is, Brooke didn’t need a lot of help—she just thought she did.
Eventually, I stopped holding onto Brooke’s bike and just told her that I was. She rode perfectly. When I told her what I’d done, though, she got so mad that she stormed off. In hindsight, lying to her wasn’t my best move.
But I wonder if I can take a slightly different approach with Rosie. Keep her safe—and most importantly, make herfeelsafe—while showing her that she can do this on her own.
For one more loop, I keep a strong hold on the seat. But after that, I slowly loosen my grip. My hand stays on the bike so I can grab it easily if Rosie starts to fall, but I’m not helping her balance at all.
And, just like I said, she doesn’t need my help at all. She even has her turns mastered. And fuck, does it make me proud of her. Now we just have to work on her confidence.
After a few more loops, I say, “Hey, Rosie, let’s stop for a second.”
“Okay!” She brakes, slowing to a stop in front of her driveway. When she looks up to me, she looks worried. “Did I do something wrong?”
