The small distance between us wasn’t his fault. In fact, compared to most children’s relationships with their parents, we were two peas in a pod, even if he didn’t have my eyes and I didn’t have his hair. The first time I really noticed that my father was out of the ordinary was when I was in 2nd grade and it was right after school. My father had stayed a while to talk to my teacher, a smart, friendly lady named Miss Howard. She had announced to our class that day that she was to be wed to a man named Carl Johnson, who worked at the local deli. My father had always had many women friends, though he loved none of them as anything more than that. He was also very friendly with my teachers, especially outgoing ones like Miss Howard. They talked for a good while, my teacher probably going on about what a delight I was to have in class, my father agreeing with her every word, almost as if I were a watermellon that won first place at the state fair, or a poodle that was voted best in show.