Tall.
Quiet.
Gray beginning at his temples.
A calm voice and gentle hands.
He drove me to school.
Picked me up after practice.
Remembered my friends’ names.
When my mother stopped breathing, I walked into the hallway.
Raymond was standing there.
He didn’t say anything.
He simply opened his arms.
I walked into them.
And he held me while I fell apart.
My father landed in Atlanta at nine that night.
He came straight from the airport.
Gray business suit.
Briefcase still in his hand.
He stood in Mom’s doorway for a long time.
No tears.
No words.
Then he looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Simone. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
I walked past him.
Raymond was still waiting in the hallway.
After Mom died, my father disappeared even deeper into work.
When he was home, he stayed behind the closed door of his study.
