a long time. I could hear the clock over his stove ticking. That clock’s been ticking in that kitchen since before I was born.
“Well,” he finally said. “What time do I need to be there?”
I told him JV played at five-thirty. Senior night would be right after. Around a quarter to seven.
He said he’d be there by six.
My father has never been late to anything in his life.
“Dad,” I said. “You’d have to walk all the way across the gym floor. It’s a long way.
