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I don’t give a damn what you want.
You are not welcome in this house.
I told you that when you went away,
and I haven’t changed my mind.
“Went away,” meaning he was locked up
by the State of Nevada. Again. That was
eight years ago. I remember he called to
share the news while we were planning
my ninth birthday party. I had no
idea what “five to fifteen” meant.
But it sure seemed to take all the fun
out of talking about balloons and cake.
Apparently it’s working out to “more
than five, less than fifteen.” At least,
that’s what I’m hearing from the kitchen.
You may have paid your debt to society,
but you haven’t paid your debt to me.
Not to mention to your daughter. She
doesn’t even know who you are, and
neither do I. Car thief? Drug addict?
You just stay the hell away from here.
I don’t need that kind of worry.
This call is costing an arm and a leg.
I’m going to hang up now.
AND HE DOES
The phone slams against the table,
loud enough for me to hear it
from here. I scoot away from
the door, down the hall, just as
Grandfather exits the kitchen.
