Where's Daddy?

“Mommy! When's Daddy going to be home?” my daughter asked.

“Soon,” I answered.

“Where is Daddy?”

“At the office, but he'll be home soon,” I lied.

“Why don't you go clean your room?”

“Will you call me when Daddy gets home?” she looked worried. Could she suspect? That seemed almost impossible, yet, somehow, I sensed she knew that he wasn't coming back.

“I'll let you know. Go on now.” I patted her lovingly on the head.

Molly skipped down the hall of our two bedroom apartment, and I could hear her rustling around in her room. I really didn't care if she cleaned it or not. I just didn't want to explain to her about Jack.

Jack wasn't her real dad, but he was the only dad she could ever remember having. He'd stolen her heart, and now I was very afraid I was going to have to break that heart by telling her the truth. Jack wasn't going to be coming back to our little apartment.

I awoke this morning to find all of his things gone. Vanished in the night.

I went to the shelf where I kept my Bible and dusted off the cover. I sat on the couch as tears streamed down my face, again. Praying there, I felt a comfort. I knew Molly and I would make it without Jack.

Opening my eyes, I found Molly in front of me.

“Daddy isn't coming back, is he mommy?” she said in a calm, and solemn way.

“No, sweety, he's not,” I choked through my tears.

“It's ok, mommy. Don't cry. I'm still here with you,” she said as she leaned over and gave me a hug. It was maybe the best hug I've ever had.