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The last one wasn’t quite as relevant as the first two.
“Please, Momma!” Luna begged, her hands folded in a prayer sign. “Please.”
A phone rang and Billy grabbed his cell phone. “I’ll just be a minute and then we can talk.”
Billy answered the phone and walked to the end of the bar.
“Please, please, please Momma!” Luna continued to plead.
“It’s just out back.” Hank motioned to a glass garage door that looked out on an outdoor patio.
I took a step to the right and saw that there was, in fact, a pen. And inside the pen there was what looked like a pig.
“Um…sure. I mean, yes, thank you.” I knew that he’d only offered so that I could interview in peace.
Hank grinned once more at me before taking Luna’s hand and the two walked down the hallway. Luna was talking a mile a minute as I watched, their backs retreating, hand in hand, I felt an ache in my chest.
It was absolutely one of the most precious sights I’d ever seen. I knew that I was being ridiculous. But I’d never had a close relationship with my father.
He’d wanted a boy and made no secret of that fact. My father was a figure in my life, a presence, but not someone I felt close to. He wasn’t someone I talked to. He spoke to me when he was giving orders; what time we were leaving, what chores needed to be done, telling me to do my homework. Or if something I’d done wasn’t up to his standard he’d let me know and there’d be consequences, usually in the form of losing privileges like TV or the phone, being grounded, or having to do extra chores.
But he’d never asked me to fix a pigpen with him. He’d never asked me to fix anything. I was just starting to tear up when I noticed that on the bartop there was a newspaper with a picture of Hank, Billy and another man.
The headline read: A New Generation Challenging “The Comfort Curse”
I was about to pick it up and read it when Billy got off the call and started walking toward me, so I set it down.
“Did you want a water or anything?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.”
He motioned for us to sit down at a high top. I was just settling in and preparing myself to answer questions about my past employment when he sat across from me and said, “So, you’re the one.”
“The one?” I repeated, wondering if this was part of the interview process.
“The one to put a smile on Hank Comfort’s face.”
