No tears.
No words.
Then he looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Simone. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
I walked past him.
Raymond was still waiting in the hallway.
After Mom died, my father disappeared even deeper into work.
When he was home, he stayed behind the closed door of his study.
Sometimes we passed each other in the kitchen around midnight.
He would ask how school was.
I would say fine.
He sent Raymond to everything instead.
Raymond attended my high school graduation.
Third row.
Charcoal suit.
He applauded when they called my name.
He drove me to Spelman College.
Carried my boxes into the dorm.
He came to my college graduation too.
Afterward, he took me to a small restaurant on Auburn Avenue and told me my mother would have been proud.
Dad sent flowers.
Two dozen white roses.
Congratulations. Proud of you. — Dad.
He was in Singapore.
The summer I turned twenty-two, Dad called me into his study.
He had created a position for me at Caldwell Freight.
Executive training.
A corner office within five years.
A board seat within ten.
“This is what I built,” he told me. “For you. All of it.”
“I don’t want it.”
