Kyle hasn’t called for weeks, but suddenly he wants to visit us on Father’s Day. I agree, knowing that what you are looking for are “like”, not love. What don’t you know? Our daughter innocently made a card that could bring the truth to light, and I’m letting it happen.
Since we finished our divorce, Kyle has built what I can only describe as a digital sanctuary to his fatherhood.
A man scrolling on Instagram | Source: Pexels
A man scrolling on Instagram | Source: Pexels
Her Instagram is a carefully preserved museum of birthday cakes from years ago, selfies with Emma from years ago and captions that make your teeth hurt because of her sweetness.
“Always proud to be your dad,” he posted last week on top of a photo of Emma on her sixth birthday.
A woman frowns while consulting her phone | Source: Midjourney
A woman frowns while consulting her phone | Source: Midjourney
But this is what happens with social networks and reality. While Kyle is busy collecting “likes” and heart-eye emojis from strangers who believe he is the Father of the Year, he has evaded his real responsibilities.
He has not sent the alimony for half a year and the canceled visits accumulate as unopened mail.
He hasn’t even texted Emma for almost a month.
A girl looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
A girl looking over her shoulder | Source: Midjourney
Not even a “what’s school like” or “slee sleep well”. Nothing.
I have seen my daughter looking at the phone after dinner, expecting something from it. Anything. Seeing how his face falls when there is nothing… it breaks me.
Then, like clockwork, a few days before Father’s Day, a message from Kyle appeared on my phone.
A mobile phone | Source: Pexels
A mobile phone | Source: Pexels
“I’m thinking of stopping by on Sunday to see Emma for Father’s Day.”
I stared at the message for a minute. How daring! Six months of radio silence and then appear as a kind of Christmas hero? I swallowed the desire to throw the phone across the room.
Instead, I replied, “Sure, come at three.”
A woman using her mobile phone | Source: Pexels
A woman using her mobile phone | Source: Pexels
I knew I had to prepare Emma. So that night I sat next to him while doing a puzzle and said gently: “Honey, maybe your dad will come on Father’s Day.”
“Really?” she asked, cautiously hopeful, but her voice broke when she said the word.
I nodded and passed a lock of hair behind his ear. “He sent me a message. He said he wanted to see you.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
He got up and rummaged in his backpack.
From one of the side pockets he took out a slightly wrinkled cardboard – half covered with wax hearts and the other half in white.
“We started making cards at school. My teacher said we had to do it,” he said softly. Then he lowered his voice to whisper. “But I didn’t know how to end it. I don’t even know if I have a dad anymore.”
A girl with a card in her hand | Source: Midjourney
A girl with a card in her hand | Source: Midjourney
My heart broke at that very moment.
I knelt in front of her and held her in my arms. “Honey. You don’t have to make a card if you don’t want to.”
He turned away and studied my face as if he was thinking about it a lot.
And then, that spark – the one he hadn’t seen in his eyes for weeks – blinked.
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney
He smiled suddenly and said, “Actually… I know exactly what to do.”
He sat at the kitchen table with his markers and cardboard. From time to time she asked me for help to cut out shapes and clean up the spilled glue, but she did most of the work alone.
Then, she carefully applied glue inside the card and called me to help her with the glitter.
Glitter in containers | Source: Pexels
Glitter in containers | Source: Pexels
Together, we carefully pour purple and blue glitter over the inside of the card. I didn’t see what I had written until we carefully shook the excess.
My breath was cut and my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t say anything, I just hugged her like a bear.
This card was going to change everything.
A woman crying with happiness | Source: Pexels
A woman crying with happiness | Source: Pexels
Exactly at 2:58 p.m., Kyle’s sedan entered the entrance.
He left as if he had arrived at a photo shoot. A cloud of cologne hit the air before it reached the porch. She wore designer sunglasses on her head, ironed hatimons and a shiny gift bag hanging from her wrist.
But Kyle didn’t come alone.
A man with sunglasses | Source: Pexels
A man with sunglasses | Source: Pexels
A tall blonde in a summer dress and stiletto heels followed him to the front door. I already had the phone in my hand, prepared like a red carpet reporter ready for the photo of the money.
I opened the door before they could knock.
“Hello,” Kyle said, showing a megawatt smile. “This is Ava, my girlfriend. He really wants to meet Emma. And you, of course.”
A man smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
A man smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
Ava greeted me with her hand as a toll operator greets. Polite but distant. Almost professional.
Emma appeared next to me, curious but cautious. I had inherited my ability to read a room, and this one, without a doubt, gave off strange vibrations.
“There’s my girl!” Kyle opened his arms wide and Emma stepped forward to give him a hug that seemed more forced than excited.
A girl with an expressionless expression | Source: Midjourney
A girl with an expressionless expression | Source: Midjourney
Ava’s phone turned on. He began recording, clearly looking for the perfect reel for the “Father’s Day surprise.” He could practically see the caption forming in his head: “When my boyfriend surprises his daughter 💕 #stepmother #assembled family #love.”
Then, Kyle raised the tone and put it on egg. “I brought you something special, honey. I thought you would love it. I have chosen it just for you.”
A person holds a gift bag | Source: Pexels
A person holds a gift bag | Source: Pexels
Kyle handed Emma the gift bag with a flourish.
Emma looked inside and took out a modern water bottle covered with holographic stickers. The kind of thing that screams, “I’ve spent five minutes in the Target gift aisle.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, because I have educated her to be polite even when adults behave strangely.
A girl smiling kindly | Source: Midjourney
A girl smiling kindly | Source: Midjourney
I saw how everything unfolded from the kitchen door: Kyle, smiling too much while Ava moved from one side to the other like a director with her eyes set on an Oscar of cinematography, and Emma trying to figure out why her dad had brought a stranger with a camera to what was supposed to be their time together.
But if Kyle wanted a stage, I would be delighted to raise the curtain.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
I called sweetly from the kitchen: “Emma, why don’t you show your dad what we did for him?”
“Oh, yes! I almost forgot!”. He ran to his room, leaving Kyle and Ava in the living room with a confused face.
Emma returned a minute later with the card and handed it to Kyle.
A girl with a card in her hand | Source: Midjourney
A girl with a card in her hand | Source: Midjourney
“A Father’s Day card from my special girl!” he exclaimed, turning to show it to the camera. “Let’s open it!”
I saw how he opened the card in front of the camera. His smile faded and a confused brow briefly took his place before the color of his face went away. Ava’s phone dropped a centimeter.
“This… what the hell is it? He says ‘Happy Father’s Day… to mom!’. Kyle blinked as if someone had poured cold water on him.
A man gasps in shock | Source: Pexels
A man gasps in shock | Source: Pexels
Emma didn’t miss a detail.
“I made it for mom. She is the one who helps me with my homework, prepares dinner, goes to the school plays and takes me to the doctor when I’m sick. That’s what parents do, right?”
Kyle’s mouth opened, then closed. Then it opened again. No sound came out.
A stunned-looking woman holds a mobile phone | Source: Midjourney
A stunned-looking woman holds a mobile phone | Source: Midjourney
The silence was lengthened like a taffeta until I decided to break it.
“Oh, and since you’re here,” I said, taking out a Manila folder from the kitchen drawer, “I’ve printed a few things you might want to look at.”
I gave him a lot of papers.
A person holding papers and folders | Source: Pexels
A person holding papers and folders | Source: Pexels
Kyle was dumbfounded as he flipped through the alimony spreadsheet that I had been saving, the notifications from the court that he had ignored and a letter from my lawyer in which he explained the steps to follow.
A small and tidy set of reality, organized and highlighted to facilitate reading.
Ava had been reading it over her shoulder, but now she took a step back, with a high-pitched voice because of the kind of anger you feel when you are lied to.
A woman staring at someone | Source: Pexels
A woman staring at someone | Source: Pexels
“You told me that everything was going well with your daughter. That you had shared custody and that your ex was just being difficult.”
Kyle stammered: “It’s complicated…”
“Complicated?” Ava’s voice raised. “This says you haven’t paid alimony in six months. That you have missed twelve scheduled visits. Twelve!”.
A woman facing someone | Source: Midjourney
A woman facing someone | Source: Midjourney
I then stepped aside, pointing towards the front door with the kind of friendly hostility that takes years to perfect.
“I’m sure you’re both busy,” I said with a slight smile. “And I wouldn’t want to ruin your day with deeds. Happy Father’s Day.”
Kyle went dragging his feet towards the door, Ava behind him. The car doors slammed shut, the engine started and they moved away towards the discussion that awaited them.
A car driving through a suburban area | Source: Pexels
A car driving through a suburban area | Source: Pexels
Emma picked up her card. Kyle must have fallen when he was looking at my Father’s Day gift.
He looked at me. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No, honey. You’ve done everything right.”
We went to the kitchen, tied the matching aprons and baked cookies with chocolate chips as if nothing had happened.
Chocolate cookies on a baking tray | Source: Pexels
Chocolate cookies on a baking tray | Source: Pexels
Emma licked the spoon, I pretended not to see her drink too much chocolate chips and we talked about everything except her dad’s strange visit.
When it was time to go to bed and I wrapped her up, she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“You really are my two dads,” he whispered against my skin.
A woman hugs her daughter | Source: Midjourney
A woman hugs her daughter | Source: Midjourney
I kissed her on the forehead and let that phrase sink deeper than any victory in a trial or any raid on social networks.
