Dad and I sit on a bench
in the shade.
He holds my hand.
He asks me what I’m reading now.
I tell him: “Pollyanna.”
I ask him what his new job is like.
He tells me: “It’s a lot like my old job—
personnel manager.”
He asks me how I like living
above The Dancing Pancake.
I tell him: “I’m kind of used to it now.”
I ask him how he likes living with
Aunt Darnell and Uncle Tim and Jackson.
He winces. “It’ll take some getting used to.”
Finally I ask the Big Question:
“Dad, why did you leave us?”
He scowls, groans. “You’re too young
to really understand, Bindi.”
I give him what Mom calls one of my looks.
“C’mon, Dad. I deserve to know this.”