‘I’m very happy to see you.’ He squeezes me harder. ‘And, again, I’m so sorry about Eli.’

I didn’t know he referred to Mum by the nickname Melody uses, Eli for Eleanor. It feels more intimate. I hear people moving around us, but I don’t budge. He smells a little of apple. A touch of smoke too? Not cigarette, but more the log-fire type.

What happens after this hug ends? I’m scared to talk to him, too many questions, and afraid his answers will bring back my anger. He could have come to see me a billion times, on any of the nearly 5835 days of my life. This shouldn’t be the first time a girl hugs her father; it isn’t right. He obviously never cared enough to visit me. And then there’s the embarrassment of Father’s Days at school, with dads flipping burgers at the barbecue, and cheering at sports carnivals. And all the other things I missed out on: riding on my dad’s shoulders, learning to ride a bike at the park. Not to forget, he cheated on my mum with Melody.

I also think about Mum. In all my most important moments, until six months ago, she was with me, or at least I knew I could tell her what happened soon after. But just like during all my other recent life-changing events, she’s not here now. I wish she was, but that’s crazy; she didn’t even want me to meet him. Am I betraying her? Or should I be angry she told me nothing and kept me from him?

I didn’t even know his last name was Black until a couple of months ago. I’ve tried to be understanding about how she refused to mention his name, but deep down I know it’s not fair for a kid not to know their father. If she were alive now, I’d tell her that, and more. My father sent me a letter soon after I was born along with a huge cheque, enough to take a lot of stress off Mum’s shoulders. My aunt Paula showed it to me, still uncashed fifteen years later, after we found it in the special suitcase Mum left me. The letter didn’t tell me much more about him—just that he hadn’t been ready to be a parent. Coward.

So maybe Mum had good reason to keep us apart. I mean, the fact that he cheated with Melody—beyond gross—would be a good enough reason for Mum to cut him off, but that doesn’t explain it because she didn’t know. There must be something else wrong with him, a major glitch in his personality.

I rest my cheek on his shoulder, not caring who is watching or how long we’ve been standing. For now, I don’t want this moment to end and my fantasy to be destroyed.