Daddy lives about half an hour away. Once I arrive in Daddy’s neighborhood, I park my car quietly and text Daddy to tell him I’ve arrived. He comes to his door to greet me, I see his tall, dark shadow in his doorway, and my heart starts to beat faster, fluttering in my chest like a hummingbird. I’m nervous and scared, and I should be scared: Daddy is a scary mother fucker. The phrase “still waters run deep” describes Daddy. Like a lake at night, you just never really know what’s going on under his cool, smooth surface, really. We say hello and he leads me through the darkened house and out to the area behind the house where it’s quiet and cool and we can see the lights of San Diego in the distance. He’s drinking a cup of wine and offers me some, and offers me a homemade bong. I hold the contraption up and examine it, laughing. Daddy laughs too and says, “Yeah, it’s real ghetto.” I like this moment, because it feels like we are friends. I place the beer I brought on the table. Daddy’s. I mentioned it on Friday as we were coming home from Registration and Daphne said "of course I completed all the assignments" and then she said to remember that I had not been too well for a week or two. But I don't really remember that either. It's only what Branca and Daphne told me. And I thought it was odd that she said she'd completed the assignments, she usually says "Oh, we did that together." So I still worry. It's as though I can never move on to anything else, always being brought back to Daphne by other people whose faces I can never quite remember. Except for one. And her name is Connie. Presently I rise and go through my stretching routine, finishing outside Daphne's door on my knees kissing her feet. I just cannot understand why I behave like this and more to the point why Daphne never says anything. It's almost as if she expects me to behave like this. I go in to her bedroom to go through our checklist:Daphne: I only slept rather fitfully last night and I'm glad when.
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