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I wiggled under his stare. Then I forced myself to be still.
“Because the world waits on me. I don’t wait on it.”
There wasn’t a smile, but something on my father’s face said I’d pleased him. “That’s right. Do they start the class before you arrive?”
“No, sir. Not now.” After only a couple of days of being a few minutes late, the teacher had begun to wait to start the lessons.
“That’s my boy.”
I usually tried to stay out of my father’s way, but I liked this kind of attention. I’d done good.
“Where’s Mother?”
“Getting dressed for dinner.” He leaned forward. “She’s the only person you ever wait for. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“When she tells you a time to meet, always be twenty minutes early. Don’t forget. Not even when you’re my age.”
I nodded again. I really wanted to know why, but I didn’t dare question Father.
He stared at me, and I tried to stay still. The pleased look came back. I puffed out my chest but didn’t have the courage to ask why Mother was different.
“Because she’s special.”
And so was Father. He could read my mind.
