If they wanted a stage, I was willing to let the curtain rise.
“Emma,” I called out casually, “why don’t you show your dad the card you made?”
“Oh right!” Emma ran to her room and came back with the card.
She handed it to Kyle.
“A Father’s Day card from my daughter,” Kyle said loudly, turning slightly toward Ava’s camera. “Let’s see what she wrote.”
He opened it right in front of the phone.
The smile slowly disappeared from his face.
His expression shifted from confusion to something closer to embarrassment.
Ava lowered her phone.
Inside the card, Emma had written:
“Happy Father’s Day… to Mom.”
Kyle blinked several times.
“What… is this supposed to mean?”
Emma answered calmly.
“Mom helps me with homework, cooks for me, comes to my school plays, and takes me to the doctor when I’m sick. Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do?”
The room fell silent.