He tells me it’s good. He loves bananas. Can he have another?
He doesn’t ask me about my day. Children never do.
He doesn’t know about my migraine, or the pile of laundry sitting on the floor of my closet.
He doesn’t know about the rejection I received from the City Arts Council.
‘Vase of Tulips’ didn’t make it in the show.
I ask him if he likes my art.
Yes, it’s pretty, he says.
He blows me a kiss.
And I smile.
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.
I check my phone. No messages.
Did Daddy say hi? she asks.
Nope, Daddy’s very busy.
She beams proudly. He’s famous, she says.
One day, I’ll be famous too, she adds.
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
It’s lunchtime. I don’t know what I’ll make for dinner.
Can we have macaroni and cheese? she asks.
Chicken nuggets, he says.
I wonder what he’s having tonight. Filet mignon?
I picture him.
He’s dashing.
Pressed suit, hair slicked back.
Swooning colleagues and fans.
Daddy’s busy. Of course he has no time to message me.
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.
I’ll let you know when Daddy says hi.
As soon as he does.
Which is never soon enough.
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.
