"Hey, I got my license today!"

"Oh, that’s great."

He wasn’t excited. He hadn’t talked to me in years and the only reason I decided I would try a relationship with him is because my mom didn’t feel like seeing me hurt anymore. I would do anything to please my mother, even if it was to my detriment. He sighed into the phone. I could hear the sister I never met screaming for a bottle in the background.

"Is Maria there?"

"Yeah, why? Did you want to talk to her?"

"No, I wanted to take you out for a victory dinner. But I don’t have enough money to take all the kids . . . "

"Be here in a half hour."

"Okay."

I had been circling the block for an hour now. I was waiting to see his pitiful face. I wanted to see the siblings he cared about more than me. I wanted to see them run into the house, expecting a bowl of chicken noodle soup as an after school snack and throw their little arms around his gigantic waist. I wanted to see his ever pregnant wife waddle her fat ass out of the house to get the mail. I wanted to see the family that forgot me.

I parked and honked. This was Sixtieth and Capitol, a car horn sufficed as a doorbell. He peered out of the window and I waved. He looked behind him. He must have been yelling something to Maria. He came out, fumbling with his keys. He locked the door and gave me that heinous smile. I returned it, gritting my teeth.

When I was four and five, my Daddy was my hero. He would buy me anything I wanted, pick up whichever sibling I wanted to see and take me to McDonald’s whenever I squealed for a Happy Meal. He was a great guy. Then there was June of 1993.

I stood out on my Grandmother’s lawn, waiting for him to come. I had on my favorite polka dot jumpsuit. I had a plastic Little Mermaid umbrella over my shoulder like it was a parasol and I was a little rich girl. The sun shone down on me for hours. I stood there, stood there, stood there. I was frozen next to that cheesy ass barrel of flowers for the entire afternoon. My mom called me inside when it started to pour on me. I sat inside the screen door, hunting for his car. He never came. He didn’t come for another eight fucking years. And even then, it was a mistake.

He sat next to me. He hadn’t changed cologne for as long as I knew him. That same cheap shit. Straight out of the dollar store. At least he got rid of that greasy ass curly shit. The early nineties were a horrible time to have black hair. I would hate to have that curl juice all over my piece of shit Tempo.

My mom bumped into him at Target. He said he wanted to talk to me again and they exchanged numbers. I called him, but it was odd. I was supposed to be the child, the interviewee. I interrogated him about his life for nearly an hour, but I never asked him why he left me standing next to those ugly ass marigolds that day. I knew he couldn’t answer.

"How’s your summer?"

"Alright, I’m ready for college, though."

"Yeah, I wish I woulda went."

He picked me up the Saturday after that phone call. We went to Target to get Maria registered. She was pregnant with their second child and his sixth. She scanned everything from bottles to fucking Cheese Nips. I wanted to tell her that no one would actually bring Cheese Nips to a baby shower, but I knew she wouldn’t listen. She was one of those old ghetto girls. She clamored for anything that would make her look richer than she was. She kept more weave in her hair than she kept food on the table, which doesn’t quite explain how he got so damn fat. I hope to God I didn’t get those genes. I would hate to look like an eight ball through my thirties. He dropped me off after our Target excursion and disappeared again.

"I can’t wait to get out of Milwaukee. I hate it here."

"Oh, it’s a great city. It’s not fun when you’re young . . . "

"How can you think that as a black male? Don’t you know that a white man fresh out of prison has a better shot at a job than a black guy with a college degree here?"

"You think Iowa wants anything to do with you? You’re probably the first black girl to ever willingly go there."

Skip forward to graduation. Remember those six siblings I had? I was the second oldest. I had one older sister who was desperately trying to find me. I was the missing link in her life. She had wondered about me for years and years, while I went on in my life forgetting about her. Sure, we had fun together when we were kids, but that was then.

I got my diploma. I walked off the stage. A woman asked to take my picture. I agreed, but then asked her who she was.

"I’m your stepmother, Maria. You don’t recognize me?"

I gave a quick pose and hurried back to my seat. I could not concentrate on any of the mundane speeches, I couldn’t clap for any of my friends and I couldn’t think about anything but finding him. I searched the auditorium. I saw that fat fuck and nearly dry heaved. Worthless sack of shit. I excused myself from whatever unimportant asshole was droning on and went to the bathroom to call my boyfriend.

"What’s wrong? You’re a high school graduate, be happy!"

"Derrick is here."

"Derrick?"

"Got my mom pregnant."

"Oh . . . um . . . I can come get you right now if you want . . . "

"No, you can’t. I have to wait until after the ceremony to get my diploma."

"Can you just hold out a little longer? Don’t think about it."

"How the fuck am I not supposed to think about it?" I screamed into the receiver. "He fucked up my entire life!"

"I’ll be there in a half hour, okay? I’ll call you when I get there. Stay calm, don’t do anything brash."

I sat back in my seat and stared blankly at our principal’s mouth moving. My phone vibrated and I instructed James to meet me on the third floor, where my diploma was being handed out. After the interminable speeches, I found my mother.

"So why do you wanna go to that school?"

"It’s kinda far from Milwaukee and all the drama that resides here."

"How come you can’t talk like a normal person? You always gotta add big words . . . "

"I’m glad someone in this car is eloquent."

"Eloquent? No one says that any more."

"I do."

She bounced my baby sister on her hip after hugging me and congratulating me.

"Who was that? Who took your picture?"

"Maria."

"Shit."

"Mom!"

"I didn’t want them to be here."

"Why are they?"

"Jamie Miller is your sister. He’s here for her."

Again, I had been put in my place. I wasn’t as important to him as she was. We had been in Government class together for a whole semester and did not even realize that we were related. She was older than me by only two and a half months. I tried to avoid her, but there came the inevitable awkward meeting. Her mother had told her too.

"I’ve been looking for you for years!"

I couldn’t share her excitement. She started to cry after hugging me. I smiled and told her we would keep in touch. I darted into the hallway and to this day, I wish I wouldn’t have.

"So where are we eating?"

"You aren’t dressed for Lake Park Bistro, so we’ll go to P.F. Chang’s instead."

"What kind of food they got?"

"It’s Chinese. Well, commercial Chinese. If you want the real thing, you have to go to Jade Garden."

"Aren’t you little Miss Culture?"

"No, I just really like wanton soup."

I looked to the left to see my boyfriend. I let out a giant sigh of relief and headed toward him with open arms. I stopped when I heard my name.

It was him. That fat fuck. He had a camera ready. He was uneasy as he headed toward me. My teeth were clenched so tight I thought they would all crack.

"Who is he, babe?" James asked, closing his arms around me and kissing me on the forehead.

"That’s Derrick."

"I’m her father, who are you?"

"This is my boyfriend . . . "

James offered his hand and a smile. James was so damn naive. He was too friendly with people. It must have been a Mormon thing. He refused his hand.

"How about you take a picture of me and my daughter together?"

"Don’t you fucking dare take that camera. You have some goddamn nerve, calling me your fucking daughter."

"Watch your tone . . . "

"Fuck you. Don’t you ever talk to me ever again. I swear to you, I will fucking gut you . . . "

"Let’s go, babe. You don’t need to be here anymore."

I acquiesced. James looked so scared, I know he’d never seen me enraged like that before. He had a can of tepid root beer in the car waiting for me. Insignificant things like that made almost killing a man with my bare hands a distant thought.

"Eat well. It’s all on me tonight."

And of course this cheap fuck did. He ordered some crab bullshit. I ordered chicken and broccoli, the only good thing they offered. He drank down martini after martini. I should have made him pay for his own damn drinks. He sure didn’t mind spending my money.

We didn’t say a word to each other. We ate everything on our nice little wannabe Chinese plates and got back in the car.

"You should call him and apologize."

"I’m not apologizing for shit. He’s an asshole and he shouldn’t have said a fucking word to me."

"Okay, you’re going to call him and apologize regardless of if you want to or not."

"I’ll call him after my road test."

"Fine."

I didn’t drive him home. He didn’t deserve to be driven straight home.

"Where are we going?"

"The lake. I hear it’s beautiful on nights like this."

"It’s getting pretty late, I should be getting home . . . "

"You abandoned me for half of my goddamn life! The least you could do is enjoy another hour with me."

He sat back in his seat, silent and stone faced. I turned the radio up. I knew he hated rock music, but it was my life. I swung my hair around while screaming the lyrics as if I had written them myself.

"Do you like work?"

"Does anyone?"

"Well, it’s not like your job is all that hard . . . "

"You entertain five jacked up seven year olds for an hour and tell me how easy it is."

I shut him up again. He called Maria, telling her he was out late with me. I could hear the distrust in her voice. As they continued to talk, I drove right on the sand. We rode along the water, getting a little deeper every few minutes.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Remember that day you were supposed to come and get me and you never did? Do you remember that? I was six years old, what the fuck did I ever do to you? I stood out in the goddamn rain waiting for you to come and take me out. I wanted some McDonald’s. I wanted a new Barbie. I wanted to see my sisters. I wanted to feel important that day. You never came. You never came and I never forgave you. I was six years old and I was already jaded because of the bullshit you pulled. The least you could have done was called, you piece of shit."

"Look, I know you’re angry . . . "

"Angry? That’s it? Just angry? What child grows up hating her father? What child grows up not knowing what her father looks like? I did, damnit. I did and it’s all your fault."

"Do you want a fucking reparation check?"

Boom.

He flopped like a fish out of water and slumped towards me. His eyes began to glaze over and he gasped for air.

Boom, boom.

He was gone. There was no life left of him. I opened his door and rolled his huge ass out of the seat and into the water. The sweet crimson colored the water around him. I smiled, watching him be carried away. I wrapped my jacket around my hands, pushing the shattered glass into the water. I washed my hands and his seat. I slammed his door shut, adjusted my rear view mirror and headed to McDonald’s.

"Just a Happy Meal, please."