Bar counters and Shirley temples. Beer can deposits that pay for cookies & cream ice cream with extra jimmies and whipped cream at Brigham’s with Doris. Long days waiting for phone calls that never come and sitting on the steps hoping for a drive by kiss; this is not who I want him to be but it is who he is.
He lives just up the street and once promised me $5 for every A; an easily avoidable mistake if he’d paid attention. At Grandpas store (known as Elite to grown ups who don’t know any better) he’s the chef and manager, you’ll find no mac-n-cheese better than his. People come from all over for is food and his smile. He has the charm of a movie star, as his 2 ex-wives regretfully know.
Steve, the man with the mustache who owns and breaks my heart simultaneously. I know he loves me but I’m not quite good enough for him. If I were he’d spend more time with me and not his next wife’s kids.
Its ok. For now I’ll cherish the fancy birthday lunches and afternoons at one of his friends’ bars playing Pac Man while he talks. I’ll settle for some rather than none at all. I’ll keep my heart safely guarded between here and my day dreams of a loving dad who lights up when he sees me, tells me he’s proud and that Im the most beautiful girl in the world.