anytime

It’s early in the morning. We are driving somewhere. Father-daughter bliss, the way it was always supposed to be.

Ain’t no sunshine when she goes.

You know I love this song, you say. You look happy but feel sad when you say it.

I wonder about the time so many years ago when you were late picking me up from school. You are never late. I held hands with the principal and cried while I watched the boys throw rocks into the creek. I didn’t even know we had a creek, until then. When did we get a creek? I asked. Just a few more minutes, she said. He’ll be here soon.

You pulled up and my heart exploded in my chest. She was worried, she said with an embarrassed smile, like I was her kid.

“That’s my dad,” I said, looking her square in the eyes. "That's my dad." 

She smiled again, and so did you. Yours was different.

You held my hand as we walked to the car. I won't be late again, you said. I won't let you down again.

And you haven’t.

I wonder though, so many years later on this early morning when we are driving somewhere:

Have I?

And this house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.