“No!” I screech at him. “I’m thirteen, a teenager. Almost an adult” I throw my arms out to my side and then start to spin around in a circle. “Can’t you see I’m not a little girl anymore? I’m all grown up!” I mean, not that he would be looking at me like that, but I have boobs now, that makes me a grown-up woman in my eyes, right? That’s what Felisha and I think, but I would never say that out loud, that would be so embarrassing.

Daddy just bursts out laughing at my twirling display and replies, “You will always be my little girl no matter how old you are, Harper.” Then he picks his briefcase back up and tucks me under his arm, walking us toward the back of the house where the kitchen is. Mum has cooked my favorite meal for my birthday, BBQ ribs, mac and cheese, and pumpkin pie for dessert. We might not live in America anymore, but my mum still loves to cook some of the food we miss from there. I know the ribs are Daddy’s favorite too, that’s why I picked them.

“Mmmmm, something smells great in here.” Letting me go, he goes to my sisters who are already sitting at the table. Rachel is in her highchair, flapping her arms up and down with excitement at the sight of Dad, and Amanda looks up with such a sweet smile. He gives them the same amount of love that she just showed me. Then he wraps his arms around my mum from behind and kisses her on the cheek as she dishes up the food on to the plates. He whispers something in her ear which makes her giggle, and she pushes him away.

I often look at them and am so grateful that I have parents who love each other so much. Compared to my best friend Felisha whose father is all grumpy, and they hardly ever spend time together. He scares me, and I don’t like him. Her mum is beautiful and is so prim and proper the way she dresses and acts. But when it’s just her, Felisha, and me, she is really funny and lots of fun.

Things start to get blurry, and I try desperately to hang on to those memories when everything was perfect. When I felt his love in every hug.

But then that vision turns to that night, the one I hate but can never shake, when I thought I saw him standing outside my bedroom window at my apartment, just watching me. I waved to him, and he waved back with such sadness on his face. I ran down the stairs to get to him because I was worried about why he looked like that, and I was freaking out a little. Why didn’t he just come to the door and knock?