The first day of junior year, she was back to a size 4. They thought she’d been dieting over the summer, but all she’d lost was 8 lbs, 6 oz.
On his deathbed, a father that had abandoned me asked for stories of my childhood and his grandchildren. In my anger, I told him everything.
I sit by his bedside, waiting for some sign of life. For fourteen years I have lived thus, hanging on to hope. A faithful, wasted wife.
Before leaving for work, he caresses his newborn who suddenly holds his finger in a tiny hand. He’s touched & helpless. Meeting is postponed.
“Hi Papa,” she says. “I have your Father’s Day gift.” Sobbing, she spits a wet gob of phlegm against his headstone. “See you next year.”
He wasn’t supposed to take a five year old to the bar. “Damned cute!” Coins dropped to the floor for me to grab. I tattled when we got home.