Kelly-Anne and I made a cake from scratch,
Victoria sponge smothered in pink icing
and red sprinkles.
Dad didn’t know how to behave
when he got in from work,
when we both kissed him and
gave him home-made cards.
He ate the cake quietly,
unable to look up.
Thank you, he finally muttered.
But I feel bad cos I didn’t
do anything special.
You don’t believe in Valentine’s Day, Dad,
that’s OK, I said.
Kelly-Anne nodded, stroked the back of his hand.
He stood up from the table roughly.
And what does that say about me?
Tell me what it says about a person
when he can’t even buy a box of Milk Tray
for Valentine’s Day.
He cried then.
The first time I’d ever seen it happen,
and Kelly-Anne hugged him until he stopped.
Finally, we knew, he loved us.