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Show S33 (L do that. He was my father. The day of Becky's birthday dinner, Brian told me that he would be gone. "Why, Brian? I made p l a n s . " I put down my scrub brush and looked up at him. It was bad enough that he wouldn't help clean house but to desert me at a moment l i k e t h i s! Brian's face was immobile. "You should have checked your plans with me. " "But i t ' s your d a u g h t e r ' s b i r t h d a y . . . I thought y o u ' d . . . ." "That's what you get for doing your own thinking." His voice challenged me to object. I flushed and t e a r s prodded the corners of my eyes. I stared at the bucket of grey-brown water and was reminded of the general s t a t e of our r e l a t i o n s h i p . But I didn't want to fight with him a g a i n . . . n o t today. I wanted Becky's birthday to be perfect - something to remember, just as my mother had made a l l my birthdays special; even during our poorest times. I swallowed. "What are you doing instead?" "Danny got me off the hook," he grinned. "We're going fishing t h i s afternoon and won't be back u n t i l well after dark." I nodded u n c e r t a i n l y . "It won't be easy to explain why you aren't here. I wonder what my parents will think." "Let them think the worst. They probably do anyway." "They do not! My parents love you, Brian!" I knew that was true. Despite his long h a i r and the ubiquitous odor of cigarette smoke, they always t r e a t e d him l i k e a long-lost son. |