I’d get excited, put on my favorite clothes, and sit beside the front window waiting for his car.
Sometimes I waited all afternoon.
He usually never came.
My mother worked long hours to support us, and I watched her struggle to provide everything I needed.
I promised myself that when I grew up, my own children would never have to wonder whether their father cared enough to show up.
One afternoon, when Tony and I were teenagers, he found me crying after another missed visit.
“Still waiting for your dad?” he asked.
I wiped my face.
“Not anymore.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I don’t understand why he keeps making promises he doesn’t intend to keep.”
Tony sat beside me.
“What do you want him to do?”
“Just show up. Even once.”
I looked at him.
“One day, I want a house full of children. I want family dinners and birthdays where everyone comes. I want a husband who actually means it when he says he’ll be home.”
