2. On the Platform
He was waiting. Just like he was every time for the past three years.
"Sadie!" He cried, pulling me into a bear hug, "You've gotten so big!"
It was always the same doting father act. I got my hopes up the first time but the fourth? That would be beyond naïve. He was a different man behind closed doors.
"Hi, dad," I say, playing along with the act. If I do well, he might hold off on beating me badly until after dinner.
After some general conversation, we walk along to where the car is parked. He drops my bags as soon as we're out of sight, of course and I have to lump them to the trunk myself. I always wished I was one of the other girls that had a real dad.
"Hurry up, or I'm driving away without you. God knows that I don't need another strain on my wallet."
The act is over. He's back to his normal, angry self.