“What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry young lady?”
I took my father by the hand, trying to pull him back from the door, it was three AM and neither of us had slept properly for a week.
“It’s me! Jenny. Your daughter!”
He stared at me, a confused look on his face, as if he was struggling to grasp the concept.
“A daughter? I have a daughter? You must be mistaken.”
He came easily enough away from the door but all the time he was speaking to me.
“If I had a daughter I’m sure I’d remember it. What do you think; my mind is going?”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see the tears.