He Better Never

"Mommy... When will dad come back?"

I could almost clearly remember the exact tone and pitch of my innocence.

"Never, son."

My mom was blunt, and my child self was okay with that.

"Good."

I said to myself snapping out of my trance to when I was a kid, remember the young adult I am.

I was standing there cooking potatoes at a restaurant, the same restaurant my dad works at.

He was washing dishes that day, and it took my all not to approach him and tell him who I was.

I glared at the fat, hunched over piece of shit who was my father.

"He better never."