Thursday, June 22, 2006

her dad was at the wedding.

i knew what he looked like because one day we were walking home from school smoking cigarettes and pushing each other into the street and there was a minivan trailing us for four blocks. oh! she said. that's my dad! and she jumped in the van and i stood there smoking my cigarette thinking about how now i had a face to put with the name i saw on my caller id. phillip. because he never bothered to cancel with at&t when he took off to sacremento. i would like to move to california, he said. i am tired of chicago. i am tired of the cold. and then the next day he was gone. i am tired of this family. he was in town for her brother's graduation.

i saw him at the deli the next day. he looks just like her. i felt like i should say something. you don't know who i am but i know who you are.

i met your daughter at a yard sale when i was nine, i could say. she bought some of my books. i could tell him she has a scar at the nape of her neck from scalding herself in the showers after swim class. right where her orange hair fades into strawberry blond. you know the spot, i could say. of course he wouldn't though.

i was watching him at the wedding. he was smiling. he took so many pictures.
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