daddy's here

(dedicated to Jessica Ronan)

last night i watched a daughter and her father reunite. 14 years apart. 14 years of silent questions and late-night sorrow. he took her hand in his worn one, peered into her eyes over his coffee begging her to believe he wasn't bad. wasn't the monster she'd tried to scratch out of her memories. wasn't the man her mother said he was. 'i want to see you tomorrow night, and the next night, and the next,' he croaked. a lone tear traced his weathered cheek, she sat there in 16-year-old awkwardness not sure how to handle this weeping man. 'i will always be here for you, she can't come between us anymore,' he said, and his daughter wilted. platinum hair sheltered the tiny red-headed girl he'd lost so long ago. her face began to crumble like the muffin in her hands, and he held her, whispering 'daddy's here.'